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FFVII Rarepair - Music
They don't really celebrate a lot of holidays at the Hewley house.
Going all out for holidays? That would cost money, and money is in eternally short supply with them. They're always having to repair cheap things they used to repair one thing to begin with, or get new stuff like shoes because Angeal is outgrowing everything faster than he can even break the previous stuff in... It's not cheap, being poor.
Which isn't to say it all passes him by, or anything like that, or that he never gets to enjoy a regional fair. Genesis, being his best friend, makes sure that he can always have something to celebrate, even if it's not fancy, and he can sometimes find a way to scrounge up a little spending money if he really wants to do something when fairs or festivals roll around. He might be poor, other kids might make fun of him on occasion, but it's not like he's miserable.
And honestly... it's not like he's missing out on all the holidays. If you ask him, his family has a special one of a kind holiday that's all for them. When he remembers that... Angeal thinks he could skip all the rest of the holidays altogether.
His parents' anniversary.
Honestly, in some ways, it's that kind of thing where they actually have to prepare for it at least a good month in advance. Not because it takes a lot of time, but because it always comes down to money. It's a lot of work, it always is...
But as Angeal stands there at his mother's side, both of them together in the kitchen, he can't help thinking all of it is worth it as he takes in a deep breath and lets the aroma of spices and shimmering stock settle in his lungs. "Ma, I think we can start adding in the vegetables now," he says, glancing over at the various other pots and pans which clutter their little stovetop. Maybe one day, they'll be able to save up for one with even more space... Even if he knows that's silly.
They only ever make this much food once a year, after all.
He's barely had a second to move to the side so that his mother can look over the stock herself before Genesis is smacking up into his back and peering over his shoulder. "So that's going to be the main dish?" he asks with a grin. As if he hasn't been with them for years now and knows exactly the kind of menu they tend to have every single year. "It will go great in the rest of the gumbo!"
"C'mon, Gen." Rolling his eyes, Angeal elbows him in the stomach a bit. It doesn't do anything. It never does. Instead, Genesis just headbutts the back of his head. "Ow!"
All this dumb commotion in the kitchen, and his mother never does anything but laugh a little bit. "Now now, firebrand, remember to be careful. There's still plenty more cooking to be done. In fact, how about you help me get all the crawdads ready?"
How easily his best friend just leaps away from his side for a little bit of crawdad. "You bet! I'll get everything set up around in the back!" And then he's off again in the blink of an eye, knowing exactly where everything is in the Hewley house so that he can get it all prepped.
"You know what Gen said?" Angeal grumbles as he starts adding things to the stock so that it can simmer nice and long. "He said that he's going to be a great big scholar one day and have everyone know his name and go to see plays all the time. What kind of fancy guy like that falls in love with crawdad boils so much?"
He's only grumbling to grumble, of course. Honestly, if there's anyone he'd want more besides him during a big occasion like this...
Sometimes, it feels like his mother can read his mind and know exactly what he's thinking. Seeing him grumble just has her laugh into her hand, those warm eyes of hers so bright. "Well, there's no rule saying that a fancy scholar and theatre lover can't enjoy a nice boil, now, is there?" She turns back to the cutting boards, where all sorts of food awaits her steady hand. Angeal likes his mother's hands the most for that reason. They don't seem like they should be strong, wrinkles starting to gather around her knuckles and so frail they seem they could snap, but they never hesitate. "Do you want to go out and help him, Angeal?"
Honestly, a part of him sort of does. Genesis makes everything fun. He has all the energy in the world, and he knows all the best stories, and things just aren't boring around him. Sometimes, Angeal even believes him when he says that the rest of the world is out there for them and they won't be trapped in this tiny little town for the rest of their lives. Even boring chores aren't so boring with him around.
Despite that, Angeal shakes his head. "I'm fine here," he says stubbornly.
Because it's his parents' anniversary. And on his parents' anniversary, ever since he was old enough to be able to help with the cooking alongside his mother... He's always done that. Every single year.
Not like he's ever told his mother why he does this. Maybe she already knows? Yet she never says anything about it, or give any hint that she knows. Just like last year, and the year before it, on and on, she just smiles so fondly at him, and settles down besides him. As the two of them cook together, they talk. About all sorts of things - how he's getting along with the rest of the kids in town lately (middling, with a few jerks as usual), how he did in that part time job for old man Ceju (well, he even got a tip), where him and Genesis keep running off to (that's a secret, Ma, jeez). It's a nice rhythm between the two of them, their conversation, and the sound of knifes chopping, ladles clinking against pots. Angeal doesn't think he would give anything up for this life, where the smell of heady spices fills the room, his lungs.
Even for all his nonsense and that he was born the kid of the richest family in town, Genesis is far from useless. How could he be, when this isn't even the first time that he's helped with preparations for the dinner? He's back soon enough, just in time to attach himself to Angeal's side again and badger him on and on. Angeal elbows him in the side, but he likes it. It doesn't feel right without Genesis, does it?
Besides, there's something that only Genesis can do.
Eventually, as always, his mother looks to the cheap little clock that hangs on their wall and yet still reliably runs on time, thanks to his and Genesis's constant meddling. "My, would you look at the time. Genesis?" The redhead perks up from where he's still clinging to Angeal's arm while he's trying to make some beignets. "Do you think you could go over to the bakery and pick up Lou? I think his shift should be coming to a close in a little while."
It's like he's been waiting all day for this, the way that Genesis beams at the request. Probably, he has. "Can do, Missus Hewley," he says - the most respect anyone in this town gives Angeal's mother. "We'll be back in the beat of a bird's heart."
"Where do you get corny stuff like that?" Angeal asks, and is just shoved a little bit before Genesis busies himself with shoving his shoes on.
He comes back in around an hour - not because the bakery in town is far or anything. It's Banora; nothing is too far from anything else. Rather, when him and his father come through the door, their arms are absolutely loaded up with not only freshly made bread that didn't sell by the end of the day, but various pastries too. Setting it all down on the table, his father beams widely and makes a beeline straight for his mother - just like he does every day but especially days like these. "Gill! It all smells so good! You and Geal make the best food in all the country!"
Probably, it's just a little bit of an exaggeration. Definitely, his father means every word of it, and Angeal puffs up his chest in a quiet sense of pride. "Welcome back, Pa," he says, smiling as one large hand ruffles his hair. It's kind of embarrassing, lately, to see the way his father always ducks down to gives his mother a kiss... Maybe because of how starry eyed Genesis gets about it.
Sweeping his father's hair away from his eyes, his mother smiles at him - and that's why Angeal thinks he can kind of get it. Can understand what makes Genesis such a romantic. Not that he'd ever tell him that. "Welcome back, Lou," she says, and has to lean and lean around him just to glance back over to their dining table. It takes a lot of effort, to look around a guy his father's size. "It looks like they had quite a few leftovers at the bakery this year."
"Just one of those days! But you should have seen our Gen!" Laughing boisterously - his father doesn't know any other way to be - he goes over to smack Genesis square on the back. "He's a real Mister Popular! All the pretty girls at the bakery wanted to show off to him!"
The real answer, obviously, is that everyone is just real interested in the Rhapsodos name more than anything about Genesis in particular. That's how it's always been, for a lot of people in Banora. Angeal knows that. He's known that ever since him and Genesis first became friends, when they were far younger than they are now.
Because they don't see what Angeal sees. They don't see what his parents see. And they sure as hell don't see the way that Genesis's face lights up, where both of them can imagine just for a little while that he shines brilliantly all on his own, that everyone has the sense to love him for who he is. Genesis.
"That's our Genesis," his mother agrees, smiling that soft little smile of hers. "Now, ma moitié, can you and Gen start preparing the table? We'll have all the food out in just a moment, it's nearly done."
How couldn't the food be delicious, when his mother has been laboring all day over it? How could the bread not taste all the sweeter when his father had to take up that bakery job just to afford a little extra money during a time of year when they need all the hands they can get over there? Everything feels perfect, with the four of them sitting there all together, eating good food, laughing in the dim light of the few candles they've got going.
"You know, one of these days, your parents are going to figure out that you keep lying about being in your room all night or whatever, especially when that happens the same day every year," Angeal murmurs to his side, where Genesis is stuffing his mouth full of gumbo.
It's hard to name exactly what sort of noise Genesis makes around his massive spoonful of food, but he can recognize the look in his eyes, at the very least. "As long as I keep doing homework and everything else expected of me, they won't care even a little bit," Genesis says, once he's finally swallowed.
"Gen-" Because he's starting to get a little bit too loud, now, enough that Angeal worries his father might hear it from where he's trying to fumble with their old antique radio in hopes that it will catch a signal at all.
They're lucky, in that apparently all the weird static coming over there seems to be clogging up his old man's ears more than well enough. But that still leaves one more person at the table, and they both glance over to where Angeal's mother is breaking apart some crawdads with her fingers. Upon sensing their eyes on her, she glances up just slightly and smiles. "Well, it's good for the mind if it takes a break from studying sometimes," she says, and taps a bit of shell to her lips. "And I tutor for so many children in town as it is, so what's one more?"
Just like the very first time that his mother asked Genesis to go get his father from the bakery, pulling him in on that little plan, Genesis brightens up like a star. And that's enough for Angeal, too, isn't it? He grins right alongside them.
It takes a whole lot of fiddling to get the radio in proper working order, honestly, but, well, they're all stubborn - him and his father and Genesis especially. But soon enough, all of them with full bellies and plenty of empty dishes stacked up there on the table, cheerful music taps its way against the Hewley floors, bounces down from the ceiling. There's nothing dull about it, the perfect backdrop to their conversations as him and Genesis talk about what's going off far away in exciting places like Midgar, his parents interjecting here and there.
The conversation is just to take up time, honestly. Waste a little while until his father finally feels a little less loaded down on food so he can leap up, spinning his laughing mother up into his arms. His parents were never taught to dance or anything, Angeal is pretty sure. It doesn't matter. They twirl and spin and laugh, lighting up the night brighter than any candle, and...
And Angeal thinks this what it might be. What happiness looks like. What love looks like.
Midgar is a fascinating dream, or at least it seems as much on Genesis's lips, but dreams can be tucked away back in the clouds. Right now, here in the present, he just grabs Angeal's hand and demands a dance from him, too. Genesis actually does take dance lessons - or he did, before that got changed to self defense lessons. He's a complete difference from Angeal, who spends all his time not with Genesis doing odd jobs all around town and beating monsters back with a nice shovel his mother got him once.
Genesis never holds it against him. Never. All he holds is Angeal's hand in his, always, the two of them mimicking his parents.
One day, they'll be older. One day, they'll be able to stay up a lot later just like the adults around them do. But all the work they've both done today, and the heavy weight of the best food in the world resting in their stomachs... It's enough to make anyone sleepy. Certainly, it's more than enough for the two of them to sink in against the cushions of the one nice armchair they have in the house, squeezed in together.
Angeal still tries to stay awake. He tries to stay awake even with the softness of the cushions squeezed around him, and Genesis's warmth right there next to him as the redhead lays there with his cheek squished against his shoulder. He tries.
Because as he watches, as the night grows long and the candlelight dims... His parents' wild dancing full of laughter slows. It doesn't stop. Just slows.
It becomes just a pair of people, dancing in the quiet darkness, holding each other close.
It's love.
It's love.
Going all out for holidays? That would cost money, and money is in eternally short supply with them. They're always having to repair cheap things they used to repair one thing to begin with, or get new stuff like shoes because Angeal is outgrowing everything faster than he can even break the previous stuff in... It's not cheap, being poor.
Which isn't to say it all passes him by, or anything like that, or that he never gets to enjoy a regional fair. Genesis, being his best friend, makes sure that he can always have something to celebrate, even if it's not fancy, and he can sometimes find a way to scrounge up a little spending money if he really wants to do something when fairs or festivals roll around. He might be poor, other kids might make fun of him on occasion, but it's not like he's miserable.
And honestly... it's not like he's missing out on all the holidays. If you ask him, his family has a special one of a kind holiday that's all for them. When he remembers that... Angeal thinks he could skip all the rest of the holidays altogether.
His parents' anniversary.
Honestly, in some ways, it's that kind of thing where they actually have to prepare for it at least a good month in advance. Not because it takes a lot of time, but because it always comes down to money. It's a lot of work, it always is...
But as Angeal stands there at his mother's side, both of them together in the kitchen, he can't help thinking all of it is worth it as he takes in a deep breath and lets the aroma of spices and shimmering stock settle in his lungs. "Ma, I think we can start adding in the vegetables now," he says, glancing over at the various other pots and pans which clutter their little stovetop. Maybe one day, they'll be able to save up for one with even more space... Even if he knows that's silly.
They only ever make this much food once a year, after all.
He's barely had a second to move to the side so that his mother can look over the stock herself before Genesis is smacking up into his back and peering over his shoulder. "So that's going to be the main dish?" he asks with a grin. As if he hasn't been with them for years now and knows exactly the kind of menu they tend to have every single year. "It will go great in the rest of the gumbo!"
"C'mon, Gen." Rolling his eyes, Angeal elbows him in the stomach a bit. It doesn't do anything. It never does. Instead, Genesis just headbutts the back of his head. "Ow!"
All this dumb commotion in the kitchen, and his mother never does anything but laugh a little bit. "Now now, firebrand, remember to be careful. There's still plenty more cooking to be done. In fact, how about you help me get all the crawdads ready?"
How easily his best friend just leaps away from his side for a little bit of crawdad. "You bet! I'll get everything set up around in the back!" And then he's off again in the blink of an eye, knowing exactly where everything is in the Hewley house so that he can get it all prepped.
"You know what Gen said?" Angeal grumbles as he starts adding things to the stock so that it can simmer nice and long. "He said that he's going to be a great big scholar one day and have everyone know his name and go to see plays all the time. What kind of fancy guy like that falls in love with crawdad boils so much?"
He's only grumbling to grumble, of course. Honestly, if there's anyone he'd want more besides him during a big occasion like this...
Sometimes, it feels like his mother can read his mind and know exactly what he's thinking. Seeing him grumble just has her laugh into her hand, those warm eyes of hers so bright. "Well, there's no rule saying that a fancy scholar and theatre lover can't enjoy a nice boil, now, is there?" She turns back to the cutting boards, where all sorts of food awaits her steady hand. Angeal likes his mother's hands the most for that reason. They don't seem like they should be strong, wrinkles starting to gather around her knuckles and so frail they seem they could snap, but they never hesitate. "Do you want to go out and help him, Angeal?"
Honestly, a part of him sort of does. Genesis makes everything fun. He has all the energy in the world, and he knows all the best stories, and things just aren't boring around him. Sometimes, Angeal even believes him when he says that the rest of the world is out there for them and they won't be trapped in this tiny little town for the rest of their lives. Even boring chores aren't so boring with him around.
Despite that, Angeal shakes his head. "I'm fine here," he says stubbornly.
Because it's his parents' anniversary. And on his parents' anniversary, ever since he was old enough to be able to help with the cooking alongside his mother... He's always done that. Every single year.
Not like he's ever told his mother why he does this. Maybe she already knows? Yet she never says anything about it, or give any hint that she knows. Just like last year, and the year before it, on and on, she just smiles so fondly at him, and settles down besides him. As the two of them cook together, they talk. About all sorts of things - how he's getting along with the rest of the kids in town lately (middling, with a few jerks as usual), how he did in that part time job for old man Ceju (well, he even got a tip), where him and Genesis keep running off to (that's a secret, Ma, jeez). It's a nice rhythm between the two of them, their conversation, and the sound of knifes chopping, ladles clinking against pots. Angeal doesn't think he would give anything up for this life, where the smell of heady spices fills the room, his lungs.
Even for all his nonsense and that he was born the kid of the richest family in town, Genesis is far from useless. How could he be, when this isn't even the first time that he's helped with preparations for the dinner? He's back soon enough, just in time to attach himself to Angeal's side again and badger him on and on. Angeal elbows him in the side, but he likes it. It doesn't feel right without Genesis, does it?
Besides, there's something that only Genesis can do.
Eventually, as always, his mother looks to the cheap little clock that hangs on their wall and yet still reliably runs on time, thanks to his and Genesis's constant meddling. "My, would you look at the time. Genesis?" The redhead perks up from where he's still clinging to Angeal's arm while he's trying to make some beignets. "Do you think you could go over to the bakery and pick up Lou? I think his shift should be coming to a close in a little while."
It's like he's been waiting all day for this, the way that Genesis beams at the request. Probably, he has. "Can do, Missus Hewley," he says - the most respect anyone in this town gives Angeal's mother. "We'll be back in the beat of a bird's heart."
"Where do you get corny stuff like that?" Angeal asks, and is just shoved a little bit before Genesis busies himself with shoving his shoes on.
He comes back in around an hour - not because the bakery in town is far or anything. It's Banora; nothing is too far from anything else. Rather, when him and his father come through the door, their arms are absolutely loaded up with not only freshly made bread that didn't sell by the end of the day, but various pastries too. Setting it all down on the table, his father beams widely and makes a beeline straight for his mother - just like he does every day but especially days like these. "Gill! It all smells so good! You and Geal make the best food in all the country!"
Probably, it's just a little bit of an exaggeration. Definitely, his father means every word of it, and Angeal puffs up his chest in a quiet sense of pride. "Welcome back, Pa," he says, smiling as one large hand ruffles his hair. It's kind of embarrassing, lately, to see the way his father always ducks down to gives his mother a kiss... Maybe because of how starry eyed Genesis gets about it.
Sweeping his father's hair away from his eyes, his mother smiles at him - and that's why Angeal thinks he can kind of get it. Can understand what makes Genesis such a romantic. Not that he'd ever tell him that. "Welcome back, Lou," she says, and has to lean and lean around him just to glance back over to their dining table. It takes a lot of effort, to look around a guy his father's size. "It looks like they had quite a few leftovers at the bakery this year."
"Just one of those days! But you should have seen our Gen!" Laughing boisterously - his father doesn't know any other way to be - he goes over to smack Genesis square on the back. "He's a real Mister Popular! All the pretty girls at the bakery wanted to show off to him!"
The real answer, obviously, is that everyone is just real interested in the Rhapsodos name more than anything about Genesis in particular. That's how it's always been, for a lot of people in Banora. Angeal knows that. He's known that ever since him and Genesis first became friends, when they were far younger than they are now.
Because they don't see what Angeal sees. They don't see what his parents see. And they sure as hell don't see the way that Genesis's face lights up, where both of them can imagine just for a little while that he shines brilliantly all on his own, that everyone has the sense to love him for who he is. Genesis.
"That's our Genesis," his mother agrees, smiling that soft little smile of hers. "Now, ma moitié, can you and Gen start preparing the table? We'll have all the food out in just a moment, it's nearly done."
How couldn't the food be delicious, when his mother has been laboring all day over it? How could the bread not taste all the sweeter when his father had to take up that bakery job just to afford a little extra money during a time of year when they need all the hands they can get over there? Everything feels perfect, with the four of them sitting there all together, eating good food, laughing in the dim light of the few candles they've got going.
"You know, one of these days, your parents are going to figure out that you keep lying about being in your room all night or whatever, especially when that happens the same day every year," Angeal murmurs to his side, where Genesis is stuffing his mouth full of gumbo.
It's hard to name exactly what sort of noise Genesis makes around his massive spoonful of food, but he can recognize the look in his eyes, at the very least. "As long as I keep doing homework and everything else expected of me, they won't care even a little bit," Genesis says, once he's finally swallowed.
"Gen-" Because he's starting to get a little bit too loud, now, enough that Angeal worries his father might hear it from where he's trying to fumble with their old antique radio in hopes that it will catch a signal at all.
They're lucky, in that apparently all the weird static coming over there seems to be clogging up his old man's ears more than well enough. But that still leaves one more person at the table, and they both glance over to where Angeal's mother is breaking apart some crawdads with her fingers. Upon sensing their eyes on her, she glances up just slightly and smiles. "Well, it's good for the mind if it takes a break from studying sometimes," she says, and taps a bit of shell to her lips. "And I tutor for so many children in town as it is, so what's one more?"
Just like the very first time that his mother asked Genesis to go get his father from the bakery, pulling him in on that little plan, Genesis brightens up like a star. And that's enough for Angeal, too, isn't it? He grins right alongside them.
It takes a whole lot of fiddling to get the radio in proper working order, honestly, but, well, they're all stubborn - him and his father and Genesis especially. But soon enough, all of them with full bellies and plenty of empty dishes stacked up there on the table, cheerful music taps its way against the Hewley floors, bounces down from the ceiling. There's nothing dull about it, the perfect backdrop to their conversations as him and Genesis talk about what's going off far away in exciting places like Midgar, his parents interjecting here and there.
The conversation is just to take up time, honestly. Waste a little while until his father finally feels a little less loaded down on food so he can leap up, spinning his laughing mother up into his arms. His parents were never taught to dance or anything, Angeal is pretty sure. It doesn't matter. They twirl and spin and laugh, lighting up the night brighter than any candle, and...
And Angeal thinks this what it might be. What happiness looks like. What love looks like.
Midgar is a fascinating dream, or at least it seems as much on Genesis's lips, but dreams can be tucked away back in the clouds. Right now, here in the present, he just grabs Angeal's hand and demands a dance from him, too. Genesis actually does take dance lessons - or he did, before that got changed to self defense lessons. He's a complete difference from Angeal, who spends all his time not with Genesis doing odd jobs all around town and beating monsters back with a nice shovel his mother got him once.
Genesis never holds it against him. Never. All he holds is Angeal's hand in his, always, the two of them mimicking his parents.
One day, they'll be older. One day, they'll be able to stay up a lot later just like the adults around them do. But all the work they've both done today, and the heavy weight of the best food in the world resting in their stomachs... It's enough to make anyone sleepy. Certainly, it's more than enough for the two of them to sink in against the cushions of the one nice armchair they have in the house, squeezed in together.
Angeal still tries to stay awake. He tries to stay awake even with the softness of the cushions squeezed around him, and Genesis's warmth right there next to him as the redhead lays there with his cheek squished against his shoulder. He tries.
Because as he watches, as the night grows long and the candlelight dims... His parents' wild dancing full of laughter slows. It doesn't stop. Just slows.
It becomes just a pair of people, dancing in the quiet darkness, holding each other close.
It's love.
It's love.