The boy heard the moon cry in desperate pale yellow hues, whispering ever so faintly against an ebony sky. Shadows cackled wildly, playing with dim ceiling lights as they loomed quietly above a scarlet trail dotting the cold floor. A pale face leaned toward the thick liquid, smiling unsteadily as his white fingers swam in the red pool.

Melted roses, melted roses...

He softly hummed as he let his fingers soak within that thick fluid, his eyes glazed with deranged wonder. He let his hand rest for a moment, glancing at his cream arm with curious emerald eyes. A thick puncture at the center of his forearm spilled with those melted rose petals, tiny red drops embracing a red rivulet.

Melted roses, melted roses...pretty smelling melted roses...

Musty clouds of sweat and death, sweet they were to inhale. Yes, that's how roses smelt, didn't they? The boy had wondered how a rose looked like; he had heard they were drops of red sown in intricate shades...that scores of men had taken a mere whiff of the scent only to come away with a wild happiness, something beautifully incommunicable. Men had sought to find the words, their lips only falling numb, finding nothing to say at all. And these florid rivers were roses--just melted, melted, melted.

No, but the little boy could describe how they felt like pushing against the skin; he could describe it's odor. It smelt of hard metal-- a dying, dying river it was.

No, melted roses. These are melted roses!!

But they matted his hair in wet slaps of red, his clothes in tangles of red, his skin in deep red circles...

He recalled a poem about roses, tucked beneath a heavy pile of dusty books in the library.

Shhh...It's a secret.

In a soft whisper, his lips slowly parted to echo the words of the poem, hoping that perhaps somewhere in that lonely world, someone would hear and come to him.

My beloved 'crecia,

Deeper than the bloom of a rose

Crooning against a solemn shadow.

There is you.

-Vinc

The paper had laid in a crumbled mess against the cold wooden shelf; there were shreds of that salvaged memory lying lonely in a dusty corner on the floor, but the boy didn't dare search for the words written on those scraps.

It was a pretty poem, and the boy lazily smiled at its memory, hugging his crimson-soaked body around the mess of cloths hanging limply at his knees. He wondered who it was for, what those words truly meant. They were written earnestly in solitude, where the mind wandered through the dark corridors of the soul, searching for a certain shred of something long lost-- to try to smile, to hope to possess the *strength* to smile. But to the boy, it was just a very pretty poem to accompany his reverie of swimming in melted rose petals.

His mind felt lighter now, the curtains of his eyes remaining wide open but the sky beyond the window dimming to a lonely black...dimming and dimming. He last heard the moon's strong cry bellowing before his dimming, dimming eyes.

"Don't cry moon! Stop it!" the boy huskily wept.

"Sing moon, sing. See the melted roses? See them?" But he couldn't see them then, and he grasped the final moan of the moon, for one silent moment before he slept.

***

"Insolent beast, what the hell did you do!" the man seethed, oily black strands sticking tenaciously in massive clumps against his wrinkled white face.

"R-roses?" the boy mumbled weakly.

"Sephiroth, there are no roses here."

"N-no there are-,"he protested weakly.

"None. I assure you, there are NONE."

"N-no but there are. They're melted, see?," he motioned to a red stream flowing down his white arm.

"That's blood, you fool. B-l-o-o-d."

"NO! They're roses," he wept slowly, his eyes glazed firmly to that rivulet.

"Sephiroth, there are no roses here," the scientist paused. "Now here, We have to make you strong."

"Hojo?"

"Yes?" he grumbled in frustration.

"I'll be stronger than the world, right?"

"Mmhm."

"Then, can I smell roses? Not melted ones."

"You can do whatever you want,"Hojo mumbled, pouring blue liquids in a vile.

"Really?"

"Yes, now shut up," he growled, as he clasped the flickering needle, pushing it firmly in Sephiroth's forearm.

"When?"

"When you're ready." The last drop of the vile fused coldly with Sephiroth's blood.

"I want to know when," the boy persisted.

"Shut up or you'll never see your damn roses."

"Oh. All right."

The boy's green eyes flickered for a moment towards the glass containers coldly lying atop the steel counter. A distinct silver sparkle shined seductively at the edge of the table, winking as it had towards so many desolate, desperate men, seeking refuge from their gray empty lives they had endured for so long. The little boy had seen it happen, see men sob in broken tears, their fingernails furiously gnawing at their glass enclosures hopelessly, their eyes shimmering as if a clear ice sheeted them, a deranged, desperate stare peering in the distance. They would cry, crashing with a whirl of glass shards piercing their hard skin as they poured melted roses all along the floor. Their hands would search for a clean silver slice to the chest, and they would smile...The boy was thankful that so many men were willing to offer melted roses for *him*, to tug a smile on his eager lips. Sephiroth had seen plenty of melted roses drenching the floor...slippery ! melted roses. Hojo would curse slowly under his breath, scolding the cold corpses for their blunt stupidity. And the boy would swim in the bed of melted roses, Hojo reprimanding him, wearing a smug, disgusted expression along his face.

"What's the silver for, Hojo?"

"Silver? What the hell are you talking about, fool." Sephiroth simply pointed towards a fresh silver knife at the corner of the table, his eyes darting to Hojo's mysterious smirk.

"That..that's for tomorrow."

"What's going to happen?"

"Nothing you will understand. Just know that you will be stronger."

"Oh."

"And you'll like it, won't you."

Silence.

"*Won't* you,"Hojo laughed unsteadily, his eyes glazed in a nightmare far, far away.

"Yes, Hojo."

"Good. Now stay here. I have...other things to attend to."

"Bring some melted roses for me."

"Oh God no, you sick boy,"Hojo whispered in disgust, slowly shutting the steel door behind him.

The boy leaned against a gray wall, his emerald eyes staring solemnly through a small window hanging like a solid picture frame about the door. He looked beyond the window for several moments watching a sea of white coats swishing along, their feet gliding against the floor in long strides. He wondered how their faces looked beneath the heavy goggles shielding their eyes--Were they smiling, crying,....or did they wish they could sob but couldn't muster the water to make it *look* genuine. The boy stood, his eyes remaining motionless against the cold humming of ceiling lights playing above his hair. He liked the warm touch of light bouncing onto his skin.

And he wondered how the sun felt like; he imagined it to be a grand mass of gold spilling something beautiful for all of mankind to grasp, a ray of dreams which inspired the cold and helpless to think that there was something there, some sliver of hope in the distance, that dreams did come true.

Dreams?

Sephiroth never saw cotton masses of white floating carelessly through a morning sky, never saw the sun strongly pounding in laughing rays, roses scattered about for him to smell. Non-melted roses, that is.

He had grown tired of melted roses...

He wondered how a dream felt against that somber silent melody that drooped like heavy coats against his bruised shoulders; every night that melody came and he closed his eyes, simply sleeping with, speaking with that nothing, wondering if one day he could stretch his arms beneath the morning sun and dream of the roses scrawled on that poem, smiles... *anything.*

He wondered if he knew how to hope.

The door shifted softly, and a silent man entered the doorway. His hair was a thick dark brown, his eyes a soft sad gray against the ceiling light beams bouncing in the hard laboratory air.

"Sephiroth?" he questioned softly.

"Professor Gast?" the boy slowly mouthed.

"Yes, Sephiroth...look, you're going to be free, boy."

"What,"Sephiroth narrowed his eyes curiously, intently awaiting for a sort of explanation.

"You're going to see the world Sephiroth. They have no right to trap you in here, you understand? We're getting out," he spoke firmly, still whispering.

"So I can see roses?"

"Yea."

"The sun?" "Yea, you'll see all of that,"Gast's eyes widened softly, his eye brows shifting in a comforting expression of regret and hope.

"When, Mister Gast?"

"I'll come to your cell tonight, okay? And then we'll be out of this hell hole, all right?"

"Okay Mister Gast,"Sephiroth smiled slightly. The man leaned towards the boy, his arms slightly stretched as if to embrace him, but as his gray eyes fell upon his tanned hands, he stopped, nodding slowly with a smile as he walked away. He has forgotten that they were cold with metal, and that all his life, his mind had searched for reason where there was none--that this little boy was worth more than what he had to offer. It was his fault that the boy never felt a cool spring breeze, never laughed; his silence spoke more wrong than any words could have, and nothing could take it back. Nothing.

The man whispered a solemn, "I'm sorry." But he knew that the word had lost its meaning long ago, when man had used its power as an innate reflex to sin...as if it could wash it all away, that everything was forgiven and gone from that single word. It was still there, rooting itself to the tormented depths of the soul, never to shift, until the heart was forgotten, until the light in his eyes, his mind had failed.

But he wouldn't be weak now...No, not until that boy had seen the sun. He wouldn't fall until that boy had seen it, not until the boy had felt a dream.

And he couldn't be a coward for her. She wouldn't let him be a meek, vain scientist anyway. Gast grinned slightly in a sad sort of pride for his love as he whispered "Ifalna", the sounds of his footsteps dying against the dark hallways of the lab.


***

"Sephiroth."

A pause.

"Sephi-?"

"Gast?"the boy's restless eyes came upon a thin blade of light flickering from the door.

"Come here. We're leaving."

"Okay." The boy shuffled a bit carelessly through the mess of syringes and needles on the floor.

"*Quietly.*"

The boy said nothing, continuing to walk through the mess of fallen laboratory equipment in his path. As his eyes wandered through the open crevice of the door, he saw a woman. Her eyes shined in a compassionate green, her brown hair flowing endlessly down her back. He had seen her before among the specimens trapped in glass tube enclosures. But she didn't pound against the glass wall; she simply stood still, her head propped up in dignity, a faint watery web sown in her eyes. The boy thought he liked her.

She seemed so sadly happy if anything could be said of her eyes.

The woman's white hands clasped Sephiroth's shoulder as she replied in a soft voice, "I'm Ifalna."

Sephiroth turned to Gast slowly speaking, "She's a nice lady, Gast."

"Why yes she is Sephiroth," he paused for a moment. "We should be going now."

"Of course," Ifalna replied calmly. She motioned towards Sephiroth gently speaking," Here, hold my hand, Sephiroth."

The boy wavered for a moment, but hesitantly touched the white hand, soaking in seas of warmth from that single motion. He liked warm things.

"Let's go...hurry, hurry m'love." Gast quickly whispered, his legs gliding through the halls in unusual stealth. He searched through his deep pockets for a certain plastic card, his lips slowly echoing an "Ah" as his hands clasped it.

"There's an exit through this room,"Gast spoke, a nervous sweat developing upon his clammy forehead. He inserted his card through a metal slit at the door, quietly and quickly opening it. The room was quite small, a bed hugging the left corner, a modest sized desk and pile of papers pushed against right, a tiny window overlooking it all as a picture frame. Gast quickly gestured to a poster; it was an advertisement, a picture of man with deep gold eyes at the center. Gast's heart pounded wildly as he gently lifted the poster away, again motioning for the two to follow. A faint clatter echoed in a nearby room, and Gast simply froze, his eyes widening in apprehension, sweaty beads continuing to mat his sticky face. He couldn't fail them now, no not when for once in his life he thought that there was some good within him, something vaguely close to bravery. He had never felt that before, for everyday he would simply bow his head submissively to his betters, his mute lips pounding with something to say...to scream against the blood spilling on the floor, but falling numb in silence. But now, he would speak, paint something white over the blackened mess called his heart.

"T-this has to work," he huskily whispered, carefully tugging the poster away from the wall. A dark emptiness loomed beneath the bulky sheet, and Gast held his hand in a cautious gesture to follow. Ifalna and Sephiroth walked slowly, their hands intertwined tightly, their feet solemnly following the sound of the professor's footsteps. Gast moved his foot about, searching for another step below... and below that. The stairway was steep, and it felt as they were falling into some sort of dark, unknown abyss with each hesitant step.

Finally, there were no more stairs scaling below. A beaten wooden door stood, black traces of rot scattered about its edges. Gast slowly opened the door. His heart didn't pound quite as much now, and at the moment, he thought they would make it and be all right. He stared at the silent form of Sephiroth, his hand now loosely laced with Ifalna's own.

The child walked, allowing his hand to trail away from the kind woman. The sky was draped in black, and tiny white tears danced about, winking happily with soft white lights rolling over the earth. Sephiroth had never actually felt the sky, the earth's air. Perhaps on lonely days through a window he gazed at the wondrous things outside, but he had never stood there, felt fresh air boldly seeping in his lungs, seen something so endless.

The plains rolled forever, the sky stretched forever, the wind sang forever....And he was *there.* He could see it, stretch his arms and embrace it, and maybe he could dream--for tonight, for tomorrow, forever.

An arm tugged his shoulder to move forward, and he continued to walk, his green eyes still engrossed in his living dream.

They walked for sometime, hunching beneath the sparse scatters of forestry in the area, but soon felt their muscles tense and weary from the journey. They managed to hitch a ride from a kind man, strands of frost aging his red hair. He was heading for Kalm, to haul back a supply of materia he had said. The ride wasn't quite so pleasant; the pungent fumes of the vehicle caused Professor Gast to edge towards the side of the truck to graciously hurl back the lunch he had eaten earlier that day. Ifalna nodded her head, laughing softly while gently letting her hand rest upon Sephiroth's own.

They had arrived at Kalm without any serious quandary, and searched for an inn to rest their tired, heavy eyes. Sephiroth smiled slightly at the sight of the quaint town. Amber lights hummed gently from the cottages of Kalm, spilling upon the streets that quiet night. His eyes were a green sea that night, washing in awe against the earth's landscape, against the kind faces that had laughed along the way. It was so sudden, so different to see everyone so happy for once in his life.

Their inn room was modest in size, two fluffy beds resting against the edge of one wall, a large window peeking at the new found world. Sephiroth walked over to the wooden floor and rested his head against the hard planks, his eyes closing to a strangely peaceful slumber. Gast smiled sadly, nudging the boy gently.

"There's a bed over there, you know."

Silence.

"Sephiroth?"

"Dear, I think he's asleep," Ifalna giggled softly.

"Here, I'll pick him up and put him in bed," Gast replied, carefully lifting the boy to gently place him in the soft cotton sheets of the bed.

He looked back at Ifalna anxiously," Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes...Don't worry about me."

"How's she...or err he?"

"He-she? Well I think he-she's doin' just fine," she smiled warmly while glancing at her slightly swollen stomach, rubbing it compassionately.

"I hope the baby'll be all right. I hope *you'll* be okay. I hope it'll all be okay."

"It will, dear, it will," she reassured her love with proud eyes.

"D-do you think Sephiroth should live with us...Will it be-"

"I don't know dear. He deserves a new start, with someone who isn't on the run."

"Yea. He does."

"Poor dear," Ifalna sadly gazed at the child.

"Ifalna, I think they'll be searching soon."

"I know. But where should we go?" she looked around helplessly.

"We'll catch a plane, somewhere. Or a boat."

"Where though?"

"Somewhere away...Nibelheim, Gongaga? We'll leave Sephiroth there. "

"Okay, but then us-"

"We'll have to go somewhere farther away," he spoke pensively, "Somewhere in the northern continent."

"All right, dear. It'll be all right. The planet can hear our pain...they can hear it. And they'll do something." She paused. "We better get some sleep now. We may never get this again."

"I know. G'night love," he said slowly while reaching for the white blankets tangled messily about the bed. Ifalna nodded, lying beside Gast, her eyes flickering with worry before the blinds closed and she dreamt.


***


The morning sun spun about through the sliced blinds of the window, dancing and humming softly onto the child's skin. Sephiroth felt a warm hand move against his shoulder, gently shaking him to awake. He slowly opened his green eyes, murmuring, "W-what?"

"We're leaving,"a kind woman spoke. Sephiroth recognized her; she was that pretty woman with soft eyes and bouncing brown hair. The boy nodded his head following the hurried woman and scientist.

It was scarcely dawn outside, the golden sun just shimmering in it's initial soft yellow rays. The sky was a myriad of purple, orange, and pinks, the yellows growing stronger as time willed itself to the day. Sephiroth gazed at it once more, softly smiling as Ifalna gently tugged him to follow. They trudged along and approached a small steel building. Gast hurried inside and started chatting quickly to a middle-aged man, silver strokes painted softly against the man's black hair.

"Yea. We gotta plane to...,"he glanced at a paper, "Nibelheim."

"Okay, that's fine. Can we leave now?" Gast replied firmly.

"In a such a hurry, eh? Well, I guess I can manage that, ya know? Well, hurry on in,"the pilot grinned widely. The four scurried into the small rusted plane, leaning against the torn passenger seats. Bursts of white cotton plumped from the rips and Sephiroth examined them curiously with his pale white fingers.

"What are these?"

"Cotton, Sephiroth...Now, rest. It won't take long to leav-"

"Holy shit!"the pilot stared agape beyond the front window. A loud ring pounded against the steel plates of the plane as blue clad soldiers poured in like monstrous waves.

"Damn, what luck. Get stuck with a buncha freakin' Shrina fugitives...wait lemme guess? You're all con men err con people. Ya see, you're not really a scientist but a cold blooded ax murderer and-"

Pang

"Damn!" The pilot scowled as a thick crimson blot punctured his forearm. Gast stood still, his face white with shock, glazed at the scarlet mark on the man's arm.

"Why dontcha go to hell you Shinra scum!" the pilot seethed in rage, clasping the handle and lifting the plane above the sky. "Why the hell do I have to be so soft," he mumbled, as the plane lifted higher and higher above the ground, until all they could see were white puffs dancing in the air.

Sephiroth said nothing but merely glared at the man's arm and whispered sullenly, "Melted roses."


***

No one spoke for quite a while. Ifalna simply pondered on something beyond the thoughts of people, materials...Sephiroth glared at the white cotton protruding from the rip on his seat and back to the wound on the pilot's arm. Gast cried quietly mumbling if he failed while he rocked back and forth against his knees. The pilot said nothing, but continuously twitched his eyebrow at Gast's every sob.

"Dammit stop crying wuss! They're gone! They've been gone for over an hour!"he suddenly yelled.

"W-what?"

"They're gone!"

"She's alive...the boy, is h-he?"

"Yea, your whole freaky family is alive bub."

Gast nodded slowly, an unsteady smile gracing his lips.

"I know my sins can't be forgiven, but at least I've done something. Who knew, who knew," he laughed softly, his smile broadening against his face.

The pilot arched an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly, "I'm not gonna even ask."

Beyond the view of the window, mountains yawned against the morning sun, and one could vaguely see a small quaint town at the edge. The plane gradually lowered itself against green plains nearby and slowly the three descended down the steel bird, profusely thanking the pilot for his time. The pilot nodded quickly, cursing about being far too nice while flying away into the endless sky once more.

Gast shuddered for a moment. The wind suddenly felt like ice, and a familiar chill sliced through the webbed sins looming in the dark depths of his heart. He swallowed hard. "This is where it all started," he spoke slowly while walking in soft strides to the small town.

Sephiroth blinked curiously as he followed the woman and man, his lips curled in a slight smile at the town. Nibelheim looked very much like Kalm, and the people seemed so happy and kind. No one screamed or cried, but they slept soundly, cooked warm food. He could smell something fresh and delicious baking from a nearby cottage in the town, and his lips unconsciously watered, his tongue bidding him to taste whatever it was warmly baking in that oven.

Gast's eyes flickered about sullenly. Ifalna laid a reassuring hand against his shoulder as he nodded whispering, "I know someone who lives here."

"She used to work as an assistant to one of the scientists for Shinra, you see. But...but she got pregnant with who knows who and well, here she lives. I gave some money to the poor woman to give her a start again," he continued. "I wonder if she'll be able to repay the favor." Ifalna nodded, her eyes staring back towards the green-eyed boy knowingly. And within the sad green shadows of her eyes, she truly knew that this unconsciously broken boy deserved better than a trail of uncertainty...a trail one day white with soft sleet, the next pounding with screaming hail stones breaking upon the ground. He deserved to smile proudly more often, to laugh, to be happy.

Gast uncomfortably scraped his feet against the ground and approached the wooden door, lifting his tanned hand to rap against it hesitantly.

No answer.

He persisted again, a bit more firmly. A woman slowly opened a finger width of the door, her eyebrows cocked in wonder at the man. Her gold hair was wrapped hastily in a bun, and she rubbed a swollen part of her abdomen gently, unsteady breaths leaving her lips. Her eyes suddenly widened, and in a moment of recognition she quickly opened the door fully, greeting the three enthusiastically inside.

"Oh my! I didn't expect you here, Sir!"

"Nice to see you too Anna. You holding up okay?" Gast stepped inside the cozy cottage.

"Yea, I guess so. This lil boy's on its way I tell ya!" she spoke, patting her abdomen proudly.

"Oh, that's...good. Look, I-"

"*We've* got a favor to ask you, Anna," Ifalna cut in.

"Um, so what is it? I have to thank you for helping me out Gast, Sir."

"No need to say Sir. But I..err we need you to take care of someone."

"...who? what? I don't think I-"

Gast nudged Sephiroth forward, "His name is Sephiroth and he needs a home...and we were wondering-"

"B-but I can't. You guys would be better off..." Anna continued helplessly, clutching a tuft of hair from her scalp, her breath quickening.

"It's for the best. He'll be in danger with us...so you have to. Do you understand? You *have* to," Gast pleaded, looking back hopelessly to his love, Ifalna.

"Um..."

"As a favor back, please," Gast whispered once more, his eyes on the verge of watering, his voice choking.

"...all right," she quietly spoke glancing at the boy with softened eyes.

I-is she mad at me? Sephiroth looked down towards the wooden floor, towards the warm fireplace where embers flickered carelessly in glee. He looked up towards the woman. She was everything and nothing like the other woman accompanying Gast. Her eyes were a warm blue, but they were tired, lying heavy against the bags sagging her eyes. She looked at everything, even the heated flames near the hearth as if she were searching--searching for *someone* to fade away the empty loneliness she knew day by day.

But the boy didn't know that his own eyes had flickered in such a manner, with the desperate longing he had all his life--like how he stared at the moon beyond the small window at the ceiling of his room. It was too high to grasp though, beyond anything his feeble fingers could hope to touch...But he wanted to, oh how he wanted to.

Anna spoke louder, "All right...he can be here."

"Thank you, thank you," Gast sighed, slowly clasping the white hand of his love as they headed away from the room. Ifalna held her hand solemnly gesturing a sad farewell as they escaped through the wooden door.

Her eyes were sadly happy if anything could be said of them at all. It was the last the boy had seen of the two through the winds of changing faces he had encountered in life.

Anna approached the curious boy as she lay a comforting hand on his shoulder quietly whispering, "Welcome home, Sephiroth Strife."


*** Roses...melting, melting, melting, melting. Stop melting. Stay, why don't you...stay.

"Stay," he murmured.

"Stay!" he bellowed sternly against the night air. His eyes opened slowly against quiet night and he felt sweat slicking his clothes in a tangled mess; he touched his clammy forehead, coming away with that clear liquid. He heard foot steps echo hastily on the floor, and fear pounded behind his wide eyes.

Don't be mad...please, don't be mad.

"Sephiroth?" a woman's voice sounded anxiously through the wooden door as he heard it creak quietly.

"You okay, Sephiroth?"

"Fine,"he spoke curtly, his voice slightly trembling.

"You're not a very good liar, you know," the woman smiled slightly, approaching the bed. She searched for a while around the room and dragged a chair, seating herself silently beside him.

"Hmmhmmmhmmm,"she started, closing her lips softly to the tune.

"...smile and sleep beautiful boy mhmmmhmmm," she hummed slowly beneath half parted lips.

Sephiroth shot her a questioning glance but soon fell to that hypnotic tune as a comfortable sleep overwhelmed him, as he smiled. Anna sat there for sometime, gazing at the small child with wonder before walking away surprisingly content, unconsciously rubbing the swollen womb at her abdomen.


***

Push, push...breathe, just breathe

Like dew, sticky drops melted down her clammy forehead, anxious screams and yelps running from her tired, furious lips. Oh God, it felt like living death.

A woman dressed in plain brown held a blanket near the edge of the bed, whispering for the blue-eyed woman to breathe, to relax the pulsating veins in her body. Sephiroth huddled in a shadowed corner of the room, scared of whatever Anna was going through, wondering if she was going to die like everyone else... whether she'd spill melted roses and that he'd be alone.

I don't want to be alone.

The air smelt bittersweet, like vanillas and lemons squeezed in one breath. Tears danced with the sweat pouring down her face as she sobbed and screamed alone. The midwife said nothing at the edge of the wooden bed, an annoyed expression written clearly on her face. Sephiroth glanced for a moment towards the bed, towards the crying golden woman pouring her sorrows to solitude. The boy hesitantly brought one foot up, and then another and again and again...walking slowly towards the woman. Her screams faded in the abysmal thoughts of his mind, and as by reflex he glided through the floor to make sure that someone else wasn't alone, alone only to embrace himself when his eyes rained hard. His hand was cold but he took no mind to it, and as he laid his hand on her hand she smiled and through the blurry fog in his eyes, he didn't see her cry, and she was quiet.

A soft cry rolled within that room, and Sephiroth saw a smaller version of him washed and wrapped in a white blanket and placed gracefully in Anna's hands.

"Soft like a cloud,"she trembled through a wide grin. Her hands tightened around Sephiroth's fingers as she spoke, "Meet you brother...Cloud."

The boy's green eyes flickered curiously at the faint trace of blood painting Cloud's tiny, fragile body. Sephiroth hesitantly touched his skin, a strangely happy smile embracing his face as he felt its warmth-- like the sun.

***

The green-eyed boy stared at Cloud often, constantly wondering how such a fragile thing could make him smile and be happy.

Brother.

Sephiroth liked the sound of that. He wasn't a very older brother, only three years he reasoned from some rambled phrases Hojo had once said. Hojo wanted him to be a smart boy, to know things beyond the thoughts of mere men, to surpass everything good and evil, and be a god. But the little boy didn't want to leave this sunbathed cottage, leave Anna, or *his* brother. It was warm here and he liked warm things.

And that's why it was so strange and magical to discover that something cold could be so beautiful--that it could bring wondrous things.

The sky was a thick gray, and the wind was chilled to ice. He wondered if the sky was holding its breath to suddenly burst...the air felt that way. Anna was sitting in an old wooden chair, her lips rouged in a deep red, her blue eyes searching in anticipation at the skies above through the simple window at her side. Cloud was a bit restless at her side, pulling insistently on the edge of her white dress.

He could walk now.

The green-eyed boy stared at the window once more, only to see gray cobblestones beneath the looming, frustrated clouds above. He wore a questioning expression towards Anna, and the woman in turn replied,"I think it's gonna snow, Sephiroth."

"What's snow?"the boy asked a bit confused as he peered into the horizon.

"Something wonderful. Just wait."

Sephiroth nodded, rapping his finger against the hard window sill, his eyes darting across the air restlessly.

"It's no-"he stood quiet.

A single white particle of dust fell upon the somber cobblestone, a faint dash of light. More stars danced their way to the ground, matting it in a fresh white sheet. The boy's lips rested half open as the gems fell their way down the gray heavens, and it seemed as if something beyond him willed for this day to be happy...It was cold, but beneath the white light of the snow, it didn't matter. The boy stood there for sometime, glancing at Cloud, Anna, the sky, a proud, glorious smile embracing his face as the snow fell gracefully on the earth...as dreams fell upon the solid ground, whispering, inspiring all to be content in their morose lives.

"It's pretty, Anna,"he whispered slowly.

A distant cry echoed through the crystal lights, and Sephiroth quietly asked what it was.

"Oh, that. Our neighbor's having a baby, Sephiroth."

The snow poured harder, but not as to choke the past away, not as to blind the earth in white.

A nearby cry laughed happily, joyously ringing,"..girl!!...name her Tifa."

"Her name is Tifa then,"Anna whispered to both Cloud and the curious young boy.

"Oh, that sounds pretty."

"It does."

For a moment it seemed that the whole town was lit in an angel's white tears, an offering to spark a trace of a smile, a song, a dance...

But then it faded, and the snow slowly fell to one single crystal before there was only a single white transient blanket left-- left as a memory to that glorious day when the heavens bid for that silver-haired boy to smile a proud smile.


***

Dawn awoke from its dark bed, an orchestra of gold and orange humming in harmony with the brisk morning wind. A piano sounded nearby, playing as if in ignorance to the beauty bursting in the sky, as if something more was blooming in that cozy home of music. The fingers which embraced the keys were soft and firm, a light cream not so far off from the keys themselves. A beautiful baby girl slept in a flower-embellished crib nearby, her eyes blinking happily to the melody. The woman felt a man's strong arms wrap around her shoulders as her fingers pounded through the piano, a hearty smile leaving her lips as she saw everything happy in the world within one tiny room...so perfect.

Sephiroth heard the tune often through his small window, and he'd often cross his arms against the sill wondering what was beyond the soft yellow lamp at the edge of the neighboring window. Cloud would tug at his baggy pants, and in turn the green-eyed boy would pat him on the shoulder, occasionally allowing him to sit on his lap, murmuring a jumble of coherent phrases and gibberish all at once.

And as the leaves of birch trees crusted to a hard brown, as the wrinkles of Anna's face grew beneath her eyes, the music flowed in the very same way...and Sephiroth smiled as he listened. He wondered who else heard it.

He found out one idle afternoon, when ideas and thoughts lazily slipped the mind, when no one seemed to care what exactly happened or would happen.

Cloud was six that morning. Funny, Sephiroth never thought that one day this little baby would stop spewing his breakfast and making a yellow mess on the floor.

He still makes a mighty mess on his bed Sephiroth mused, slightly chuckling.

And the silver-haired boy walked, a certain underlying confidence beneath every bold stride as he made way to the ever-radiant sun. Perhaps, for once in a long time, something had faded; maybe it was that horror that he would be lonely forever and that there was *no* sun, no light blue in a rainy sky...no hope.

But there was always something faintly close to hope, singing very softly against the dying winds of the soul; there *was* a light in the murky depths of the sea that we could all grasp or at least try to catch.

Perhaps it wasn't quite an idle afternoon, after all.

A girl wandered around the town square, something blooming in her hand, something painted in a rainbow of red. And as she slowly walked about, a sweet wind followed behind her footsteps, a sweet enchanting wind radiating a bittersweet happiness in its trail. Her brown eyes glanced at the red gem in a magical daze, her thick mahogany hair swishing slowly against her back as she walked.

Sephiroth walked hesitantly towards the girl and with a furious rub against the back of his neck he asked, "What's that?"

The girl arched an eyebrow of disbelief as she replied, "Itsa wose."

"Huh."

"A wose."

"A rose?" he questioned.

"Thas what I've been sayin'," the girl replied a bit annoyed.

"Oh...can I see?"he asked, a certain sadness seeping in his eyes. He let the rose lay gently in his hands as he examined it carefully, wanting to decipher the mystery behind it. Someone had once said something beautiful of a rose...

Deeper than the bloom of a rose

Crooning against a solemn shadow.

There is you.

"Deeper?"he asked softly, his hand tightening against the stem of the rose.

Tightening.

Choking...

Until he saw melted roses.

No...not melted roses.

He glared at his red stained hand, suddenly angry at the rose, and yet refusing to let it go. The girl looked sympathetically at the crimson soaked hand, at without a single word, tore a piece of her shirt, tying it messily around his hand.

"My mummy does that when I get hurt," she whispered, resting a soft hand against his cheek.

Sephiroth stared at the white cloth for a moment, grinning softly as he mumbled a "thank you" through pursed lips. The girl walked away again, the wind softly sweeping against her thick brown strands with her steps. Sephiroth watched her leave for several moments, suddenly asking,"What's your name?"

"Tifa."

"Mine's Sephiroth, Sephiroth Strife." Tifa nodded slowly, the sound of her boots softening in the distance.

Sephiroth glared at his wound for sometime, unconsciously tracing the side of his cheek with a white finger, thinking.