Gun AU - Chapter 9

[warmskies]

"This soil really is incredible - seriously I've walked all around the slums, and most of it is just dried up and dead. No wonder the floweers are growing so nice down here, with soil this good."

"Mhm! Because of the underground river, right? But it peeks up near my house not far from here! I actually just brought some of the flowers over there to grow, and they're really sprouting fast. They're so pretty, right?"

"I'll say. Still, even with soil and an underground river like that, I wonder if there's some other trick to it? I mean, you look up at Midgar, and there's not a single living weed up there. Everyone says that plants just don't grow in Midgar, so I always wondered what it's problem was. You'd think with decent soil and some water, it'd be fine."

And so the conversation continues, although Sephiroth feels that he's only listening in on a small part of it, honestly. Instead, all he can do is sit in one of the still functional pews and leans back, staring there at the hole in the ceiling. He would have thought the slums in just about every sector would have difficulty getting sunlight like this, practically buried underneath Midgar's mass like they are, but no. It shines through that massive hole in the ceiling, right there perfect against the flowers where Angeal and Aerith are crouched down.

"How are we doing, Sephiroth?" Gillian's voice, there, and her footsteps, coming closer until she's right there in view. A little dirty from everything they crashed through, her short hair already a little wild around her face, but, ultimately and most importantly, she seems alright. "You've seemed a bit dazed."

Dazed? "I suppose so," he says, looking back towards the hole in the church ceiling. "It may simply be the adrenaline. Please do not concern yourself, Mrs. Hewley."

Maybe that really is it, at least to some degree. Sephiroth has spent so much time fighting, and fighting, and fighting, sometimes it feels that he's almost done as much of that as living his life in the lab... But he has to admit that gutting through metal and falling through multiple plates until they land in the slums is a little bit of a new experience for him. In most cases, he's never had to be put into such a wild situation, his back to the wall.

Will he... really get to experience more things that he's never been able to reach out and take for himself before?

Well, perhaps with less desperate circumstances or hitting metal repeatedly in a very long fall down.

That's not really all that important. There's other things he has to take into consideration, and Sephiroth finally pushes himself forward, forearms resting against his knees, so that he can look over to Gillian properly now. She doesn't look overtly hurt, but he still has to ask, "You're certain that you haven't been greatly injured? Even if you do have some mako inside of you, I imagine that is very different compared to everything else." Although he supposes he wouldn't be surprised if a SOLDIER Third Class could survive the fall as well. Gillian may not have the training required for such a thing, but, well, there is still mako.

There's also something else, besides. "Oh, no, please - don't worry on such a thing. Angeal managed to keep me from most of it, honestly. If there's anyone you should go check in on, then it's that son of mine, having hit nearly the entire city on the way down."

While she says that, just one look at Angeal would make one doubt the claim if they didn't know about all the secrets behind his existence. His hair has already been straightened out and swept back, with nary a bruise visible on his body. All that gives away the events from only half an hour before would be the terrible state of his clothing, with tears and holes here or there, along with perhaps literally every bit of dirt and oil and rust that could cling to him on the way down.

They should... probably clean up at some point. Sephiroth suspects he looks about as bad, especially his hair.

"It's interesting, you know," she says, while he's still recovering a little bit from more than just the fall. "You wouldn't normally see a church such as this still standing after everything that Midgar has become. Even in many places far from this city, it's not surprising to find them all fallen to ruin, or no longer in the same state as some might have known them to be once upon a time."

Churches... Sephiroth has heard about them, distantly. Certainly enough that he can recognize what this place is meant for, what to call it at a glance. And yet, it occurs to him that a church must be a place of spirituality, and, well...

Hojo always did hate and disdain that which was not pure simple science. Spirituality was one of those things.

"Do you know what it's for?" he thinks to ask, simply to keep his mind active, move it away from thoughts that he would rather not lingere on. Away from memories of crimson eyes staring straight into him. Away from remembering the last time he was able to touch Lazard.

Gillian shakes her head. "Honestly, dear, Genesis would know a little more about this than myself... He has a rather strong academic interest, when it comes to things such as poetry, and summons." For a brief second, Sephiroth almost asks about Genesis's interest in summons, and then recalls the giant dragon he has summoned multiple times. He doesn't interrupt her. "If I had to make a guess... Well, perhaps Alexander?"

Alexander... Sephiroth has heard of that one. He's seen old images drawn and meant to represent the entity as well. As he casts a glance around the church, with how massive it is and the particular form of its architecture, he has to admit that he can see some resemblance and connection, if those pictures hold true.

Ugh... He doesn't know what he's thinking. Learning about churches, what importance summons held to them, none of that is really important. He has to fight to get onto his feet again, to no longer think about what he's left behind. It takes... more effort than he knows how to address, to finally do just that. "We shouldn't linger too long, should we?" he asks Gillian, fingers drifting along the back of the bench. "How will Genesis handle all of those supplies that we took from ShinRa?"

"Oh, we have a spot we know of that should be hidden well enough from anyone coming to look for it," Gillian says, confident in a quiet and calm way that help smooth over the rattled edges of his brain. "But you're right - we really shouldn't linger for too long." A sigh rolls out of her. "Unfortunately, I suspect that they'll likely have barred the way out of Midgar... At least all the easy ways out."

There's no need for her to say that any of the harder ways would be the more visible ways, and that would only draw more attention to them. Sephiroth understands. "So we will have to find somewhere to hide for a short while... Although I wonder if they would be able to track our route down the plates."

"Our route was hitting every pipe down the plates," Gillian says in a surprisingly calm and almost cheerful sort of tone that's hard for Sephiroth to make sense of. "Still, that doesn't guarantee anything. Likely they'll send off everyone they can in either SOLDIER or the security force all over. The best that we can do is find some places to lay low and keep out of sight." She sighs, one hand pressing along her cheek. "I'm sorry, dear... I don't think we will be able to settle down as neatly as myself and the boys did back up on the top."

Well... It isn't as though he's dealt with worse, out there on the battlefield for ShinRa. "I don't mind," he tells her honestly. "In that case... Let me say goodbye to Aerith, and retrieve Angeal."

It should, in theory, be very simple.

So of course, when he taps Angeal's shoulder and tries to part with Aerith, she stands up and dusts off her dress just to say, "Oh, then I'll come with you and guide you around."

"You shouldn't," Sephiroth tells her immediately. "ShinRa is no doubt still looking for you. If they spot you down here alongside us, they may even consider you a collaborator. Even if you got away, they'd remember your face, and you'd struggle forever afterwards. They could even capture you if Angeal and I were preoccupied." And, although he doesn't want to say it aloud while she's so close, Sephiroth has to admit that they'll be protecting Gillian the entire time as well. Splitting their attention further would just be a danger for someone, in the end.

This entire time, Aerith has propped his sunglasses on top of her hair, and she slides them back down onto her face, now. She does it entirely so that she can peer over the rims up at him. "Then shouldn't you just make sure that we don't get caught?" she asks cheekily.

Was she a problem like this when they were children stuck in the labs together?

...Yes. She was.

"You don't know the slums as well as I do," Aerith continues, ignoring his incredulous stare. "I know all the different places where you could hide, or step out of sight for a second. You know just as much as anyone that ShinRa doesn't care to step down here all that much; they don't know anything. There's just the guys who work for some criminal or another, and even they don't like to step outside the main streets near places like Wall Market if they don't have to."

She clearly won't listen to him. Sephiroth can already tell this is the case. She never listened to him when they were young, too, and she took it upon herself to teach him the proper way to draw, or think of things. He never did catch on. Well, it can't be helped. Sephiroth looks over his shoulder to Angeal. Out of the group, he had seemed the most responsible, and he has a demeanor that warrants listening. Surely, if he speaks, he might change her mind, or at least have a better idea on how to do so.

That's what Sephiroth thinks up until Angeal rubs his chin and says, "I mean, it might be pretty hard to run around helping wanted fugitives in the slums when you're wearing dainty sandals like those, so you'll have to borrow Sephiroth's boots."

With all that has gone on in his life, Sephiroth would never even think to be so petty as to compare those words to some sort of betrayal.

He does, however, certainly feel something.

Perhaps it shows on his face; Angeal certainly has to turn his head away for a moment with the hand at his chin now covering his mouth for a brief moment. "I'm joking," he says, although something about his tone makes Sephiroth doubt that claim. "But we really will be on the move a lot, and you may stand out a bit as an easy mark if you go around in sandals that might trip you up, or a dress that will catch on things. More importantly... Just moving inbetween the different outcrops of people is enough to get monster attention. Do you really think you'll be fine with that?"

Aerith gestures with her hand outstretched to her sides, fingers spread wide. "Of course. I have to deal with that every day as it is. This much won't be that different. I even have the staff that my mom got me!"

Angeal takes one look at Sephiroth's expression before chuckling; Sephiroth suspects that is what he was doing but a moment before. "Listen... It might be easier to accept her coming with us," he tells him. "I have a feeling that we'd be wasting a lot of time arguing back and forth on her qualifications, and she might just slip on after us anyway." He looks over at Aerith with a quirked brow. "No offense, Miss, but you look like a troublemaker."

There is not a single tooth of repentance in her smile. "I'm innocent as a lamb."

Unfortunately, Sephiroth does admit that Angeal has a point. At this rate, agreement may actually be the better choice with how stubborn she can get. So he turns his gaze towards her, a frown pulling just slightly at the corner of his lips. "Retrieve your staff, then," he tells her. "We shouldn't dally."

As Aerith runs off to go retrieve her staff and the bag that was set on one of the pews, Gillian steps up behind him and lightly pats his back. "I'm sure it will be fine," she says soothingly. "They're likely still mobilizing things up on the plate, and I don't doubt that Lazard will cover us a little bit. That should give us enough time to find a few places that we can hide out in and switch between. Besides... Before you go, it wouldn't hurt to spend a little more time with her. She seems to care a great deal."

It's hard to meet Gillian's eyes, when she says something like that. In truth, while it's hard for him to truly visualize it - just like it had been hard to visualize a life outside of ShinRa and SOLDIER - a part of him had still expected that he would leave the city posthaste. No time for goodbyes. No time to dwell on longing.

Apparently, he won't be able to make it such a clean cut.





In truth, the slums really are full of various places where one can easily slip away into and hide away. It's almost expected. There are inns or two, certainly, where mercenaries may slip to stay in at, or people visiting for places such as Wall Market, but they all avoid such places.

An inn is full of employees. Employees that wouldn't be afraid of selling a little bit of information if someone came asking about such distinctive people like him and Angeal. There's no doubt in Sephiroth's mind about that much.

"Oh, you should try the pipes," Aerith suggests as they bypass some of the little settlements which have sprung up underneath Midgar's bloated mass, her dressed hiked up to her thighs. Sephiroth offered to carry her past it all; she refused. "There are a ton of pipes that crop up all throughout the slums. Most of them are disconnected from Midgar's top plates. I guess they were used a lot when Midgar was first being built like it is now?"

Sephiroth waits for her at the top of their latest pile, and offers her a hand. This time, she accepts it, hopping over some junk. "Oh, I wouldn't be surprised about that," Gillian says to the side, while Angeal raises his hand to scope out the area. "And of course, when everything is all said and done... It's easier to leave things rotting down here, build on top of it, rather than use money and energy to get it all cleaned up. That's ShinRa's way, and I suppose always has been for a long time now."

The problem is that it's not only people who go looking in pipes for a little bit of shelter and protection from the dry winds which blow in from beyond Midgar's gates.

"Monsters like this have a tendency of moving quick," Angeal comments, flicking the blade of his stolen sword so that blood clears off of it. All around them, the corpses of the monsters they've felled litter their feet. At least it wasn't that much of a bother. Sephiroth doesn't even think the two of them are particularly out of breath. "While a pipe like this might be a good idea in a pinch... If we left it alone for any amount of time, we'd just have to clear it up again, and the noise might draw the attention of ShinRa's men if they happen to be searching the nearby area."

And while monsters will happily cannibalize other monsters, or even sometimes their own... Sephiroth knows that it's a lot to ask for that evidence of their battle will be cleaned up so quickly, or so neatly.

"Do you think we will truly have enough time to find places today?" he asks Angeal as the two of them head back to the main paths that spread out, connecting the various little outcroppings of society like a spiderweb. "ShinRa is too dangerous to be underestimated..."

Angeal glances back over at him, the deep blue of his eyes a captivating shimmer. Sephiroth has never seen mako eyes in that particular deep blue configuration. Then again, there aren't normally eyes as green as his, either, he supposes. "You know, after me, ma, and Genesis all managed to get right out of ShinRa tower with surprisingly good results, I thought that you would have a little bit more confidence in us. Certainly enough that we don't need reminding on what ShinRa can do." He curls his fist loosely underneath his chin. "So... I'm going to hazard a guess that your fussing is all because we have Aerith with us right now, and that she might do a visit with us while we're waiting for the heat to die down a little bit. Right?"

Is it that obvious? Sephirth supposes it must be, and he looks out towards the towering hills of trash that shines dully from what little light can reach down here. "While we can take care of ourselves well enough... I don't want her to have to go back to that place."

The dull and monotone schedule that was decided long before him. Those same pale walls which matched both floor and ceiling. Needles every other day, checking for things he couldn't understand which no one deigned to explain.

That life is one which matches him, even down to his hair.

Aerith never matched that place, vibrant and full of energy. Now that she's grown up even a little bit, taken her first steps into adolescence, he can only say that with even more certainty: she doesn't belong in a place like that ever again. That there is even a chance she could get wrapped up in it all just because he's here...

Rather suddenly, Angeal comes to a stop, and Sephiroth nearly bumps shoulders with him. It's right as he's re-calibrating everything that Angeal turns to face him. "Now isn't that sweet? If you just showed it on your face a little more, I bet that it would have struck right the way you wanted it." A heavy weight, right there on top of Sephiroth's head, and he blinks. It's.... Angeal. Angeal's hand, gently petting his hair. "Well at least you're honest about things when you're asked, so that's all well and good. So I'll honestly tell you that things will be alright. I'm here as well to help you with everything, so you don't have to worry. Ma, too, is a lot more quick on her feet than you'd think, and better with materia than me, honestly."

"Didn't you send an entire ball of ice towards someone...?"

"But I hate it," Angeal stresses, ruffling Sephiroth's hair a little more. "Materia is the most annoying thing to feel in the world, so I don't use it much. Ma is much better at that sort of thing. Anyway, that's besides the point." He finally removes his hand from Sephiroth's head, resting it along his hip. "But you're missing the point here. We'll be fine, even if Aerith hangs around a little bit. Besides... From what she's said before, it sounds like she's had to deal with ShinRa trying to poke at her before on getting her back, so I don't think she's an unknown quantity. That means it's fine even if she's spotted."

It's a rather optimistic view of everything, honestly. Doesn't that still mean there's a chance his presence by her would make ShinRa want to hurry in acquiring her again rather than taking the slow route?

Sephiroth can't be sure, only that the worst case scenario haunts him the entire time that they all do a scout of the slums. High over their heads, the trains rattle and roar on, an oppressive weight that has him want to pause every time. Just in case. Every single one could be carrying ShinRa troops down to them, after all... Could be the first quiet warning bell of an attack.

Yet the attack doesn't come, not today, and they manage to find a small building of bricks and metal that is cleaned out well enough from its few monstrous inhabitants. Something that can fit the three of them with a little bit of squeezing, although it does feel somewhat claustrophobic from it all. "Well, we can't afford to be picky," Gillian says casually, testing the shutters which rest over openings which may have been windows, once upon a time. "As long as two people can lay down to sleep comfortably, that's the important thing." Dusting off her hands, she turns back to them. "Now then, Aerith, I think this along with some of the other places we've taken a look at today should do. Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

"Hey, we should go take care of monsters in the area," Angeal says, all of a sudden, and drags Sephiroth out by the arm and out the door before he has a chance to weigh in on the idea one way or the other.

Well. It is something that's worth doing, at least a little bit, so Sephiroth patiently waits for him to finish pulling him along before he bothers to speak up. "Do we truly have to exterminate the local monsters, or is this something that you made up...?" Once, Sephiroth doesn't think he would have been able to pick up on that sort of thing, but he's gotten better at it now. At least, he can only hope he's gotten better at spotting awkward and sudden decisions like that, or else he may be in danger.

Letting go of Sephiroth's hand, Angeal dusts himself off and takes stock of their surroundings. Like just about everywhere else underneath the plates of Midgar, it's just trash stacked onto trash piled onto trash. Even though he's only visited a rare few times thanks to his partnership with Rosso, Sephiroth has picked up on this much. "Well, we should do that too. It's only polite. But, really, I figured we'd be in the way."

"In the way?"

"Well..." Angeal taps his chin. "Ma was probably going to convince Aerith to get a move on instead of lingering around, or make a deal with her, something like that. If you were still around, being the one she cares about the verrrrry most, well, it might be a little more difficult." Angeal chuckles. "And you might end up falling for a trap of hers too."

Sephiroth narrows his eyes just slightly at Angeal. "I'm good at avoiding traps."

All that does is have Angeal pause, before he turns around to face him properly. Not just face him, but, rather, lean in close with his arms crossed and a slight smile on his face. Even though Sephiroth knows that he could do quite well against him, if not beat him entirely, his heart still kicks up a little bit with adrenaline. That only makes sense; he knows that Angeal can be a rather tough opponent. "Well, that depends on the trap, doesn't it?" he says, more than he asks. While Sephiroth stares at him, he finally pulls away with a chuckle. "Anyway. Along with clearing out monsters, we should figure out how we're going to eat here. We'll have to work a little bit, but I'm sure we can manage."

And they really will have to work things out a bit. Without the disguise that they'd provided for him the last time that he'd been in the slums, Sephiroth is far too recognizable to just go wherever he likes. That had been a problem to begin with, when he wished he could have simply gone wherever he liked without being mobbed by fans or reporters or anything else.

Being on the run from ShinRa makes it a little more pressing, now, however.

Yet even if he cannot make his way into the various little outcroppings of hobbled together neighborhoods and towns which seem to exist as a subsidiary to Midgar's bulk, Sephiroth still manages to assist in other ways where he can. His eyesight is still as sharp as ever, after all. Atop high enough structures, or even simple garbage piles, and he can see straight across just about everything... including all the way to the train yard which lays still and quiet for the time being.

"They're probably halting all train activity for the time being, even if it's just for show," Angeal explains when he returns from a quick grocery run that's more canned and quick food than anything else from what Sephiroth can see. "They know you could probably cut straight through the heavy main gates down here in the slums if you really wanted to, after all."

"And we did escape by you cutting through the metal walkways and us falling straight through the plates..."

Despite his tone being dry and uninteresting, Angeal laughs at his words. "Exactly. But if they just did nothing despite all the hubbub, it wouldn't look good on the news and all that. So they'll have to do at least a little something, right? That's good for us; it means that they might get distracted at least a bit by the PR aspect of it all."

It's funny, almost. Angeal has clearly never joined ShinRa. Yet with how he speaks, it's clear he's done a good deal of research into how the company functions, what little details it gets distracted on that aren't truly important. Although, of course, there is one obvious answer to all of this, beyond simple research into the company... "Then... Gillian's knowledge is proving to still be relevant after all, no matter how many years it has been."

Angeal shrugs, fingers still near the sword he's keeping close to him. "Well, Ma always said that business like that never changes... When money and influence is more important to you than the lives of other people, it becomes pretty easy to see where their priorities lay."

And when you know the enemy's priorities... Their plans, in turn, become incredibly transparent.

Sephiroth never thought that he would be applying tactics he would have considered in the war to ShinRa, against ShinRa, and yet it makes a sort of sense.

"That makes sense. Although, if they're going to lock down all escapes from the city, and transportation as well..." The question that's been swimming in Sephiroth's head all this time finally surfaces. "Will Genesis be able to meet up with us here in Midgar, or will he focus completely on getting all of the equipment back to your own hideout?"

"Oh, gods, no," Angeal says almost immediately, with zero hesitation. "It's a long way back there, and we're absolutely not letting him just take all over that on his own." He makes a face. "Genesis can't be trusted with that sort of thing."

Sephiroth has so many questions.

They are questions, however, that can be saved for later. By the time they return to the little hideout that they left Gillian and Aerith at, the latter is no longer around, and Gillian looks up from where she's been trying to dust off some of the very dust everything. "Oh, good, I was just wondering what we would do about breakfast," she says. "Only in Midgar could you find stores that are still open this time of day. Well, with the kind of nightlife this city has no matter the sector, I suppose it never is surprising."

When he first made the decision to run away with all of them, Sephiroth isn't sure what he imagined it would all be like. Living a life free of ShinRa, a life that he could see glimpses of from overhearing the chatter of others in SOLDIER or by glancing out his apartment window, is something that was so foreign to him that it was hard to conceptualize. Certainly, he had an idea of how to mimic it all, from what he had seen in television or through simply watching, but... He couldn't spin anything from that. He couldn't see himself leaving a grocery store, and imagine what would happen after that.

Truly, there are only some things that are understandable when they're done. Because now he can understand cooking for himself, with Rosso's elbows jabbing into his sides as she tries to 'help' and mostly steals food. He can understand settling down into the peace of a quiet apartment, comfortable simply in the presence of those close to him, Lazard's breath steady besides him.

However, he isn't sure he could have ever imagined what it would be like to go onto a full cleaning session in an abandoned little shack in the slums.





They barely get a full twenty four hours before Sephiroth can see the machines around the train station light up again, and hear the sound of steam whistling. "I suppose it would look bad if they lingered for too long on these things," Sephiroth murmurs to Angeal, where the other man leans against the wall below him. "Not to mention they'll want to get their people moving sooner than later. I wonder if they'll bring out any aircraft to help scope out the city?"

"I doubt it, considering I'm pretty sure Genesis set some things on fire while he was leaving," Angeal remarks dryly. "They might want to deal with that particular show of arson before they get anything else out... But you never know. That was only one location, in the end."

Only one location, and ShinRa practically owns the entire city. Even in the places where one doesn't think, it's still theirs. Sephiroth knows this much.

Still, panicking is the exact opposite of what they should do. Another thing Sephiroth finds is similar to the battlefield. So rather than scurrying off towards the next batch of safety they've found in Midgar's shadow, the three of them simply settle down a little further in the small abandoned shack, and shoo off monsters when they need to. Gillian takes a little while, sitting there with him by the windows, to do his hair back. "I never did keep my hair long," she remarks, her fingers patiently working out every little tangle patiently. "Genesis had it a little long when he was a child, but it didn't last before he cut it off himself. "

"You're very good at it," Sephiroth says, which is an objective fact. Gillian's fingers don't rush, don't pull. She just works out the tangles with a kind of patience that feels so distantly familiar. But he doesn't remember anyone like her in the labs, which of course only makes sense. She was on an entirely different team. She'd left ShinRa years ago.

"Sweet of you to say. There was an old colleague of mine..." Gillian trails off for a moment, lost in thought. Her fingers weave his hair together, now, braiding it and pulling it higher. Trying to make it just a little less flashy. "Not a lot of scientists liked having someone like her or myself in the labs, if they were really honest about it, but we managed to push through in our own ways. Her way just happened to involve longer hair."

Sephiroth doesn't entirely understand that, but, well. It clearly means something to Gillian, so he just accepts it for what it is. Most of his attention is still focused outside, after all, picking up for every little bit of movement that his eyes can catch and whatever strange sound might get picked up by his ears.

But Midgar's slums are, of course, immense. It's only fitting for a place as massive and corrupt as Midgar, really. It shines so violently bright, as though maybe that will keep people from noticing the immense shadow it casts. Considering things, maybe it's really a successful tactic. What that means for the three of them is that another twenty four hours pass, and, if ShinRa troops have landed in the slums, they haven't ventured into their particular patch of garbage.

That's more than enough time for Angeal to slip in and out regularly, getting various little things for them. Mostly it's clothes, of course, and he tugs a hat onto Sephiroth's head during one of his returns. "There. If you ask me, it's not as nice as the one we had before... but it should do the job well enough, and Genesis isn't here to complain."

Sephiroth adjusts the hat on his head well enough. "Is there anything to complain about? This seems like it should cover enough that people won't likely notice if they're not focusing on me."

"Oh, how quickly you've forgotten how fussy he can get about presentation." Angeal dusts a little bit of him off and takes another look over him. They've completely changed clothes again. Fortunately, no matter if it's up top in Midgar or down in the slums, there will always be people trying to pawn off clothes. It looks like Angeal has managed to find someone halfway decent; these aren't full of holes or completely filthy. Thrifted, of course, and maybe a little stretched out... but they're manageable. They'll do. "I think this is as good as we're going to get."

It's nothing less than simple good luck that they get enough time for such things. What's less good luck is him wondering just where one little piece of the puzzle is that makes him feel this really is too good to be true, but he doesn't dare bring it up even with how much it weighs on his mind.

Not when he sees uniforms begin to filter out of the latest train stopping into the district's slums from his perch on top of the little shack, blending in well enough with all the junk around him, and he doesn't dare mention her name where someone might overhear it that he doesn't want to. All he does is let Gillian and Angeal know, and that's that. They slip right out of their little hut, and Sephiroth pairs himself up right alongside Gillian while Angeal goes his separate way.

The Hewleys are a recognizable pair. Sephiroth is individually recognizable, he's sure, even without his long hair or bright eyes so visible. Still, this is the best they can do for now: mixing up what expectations there might be.

It should be a simple and clean journey through the twining paths which stretch out along through the slums, the various trash piles and broken patches of fence that are arguably meant to separate the different sectors. That means, of course, that things are not that simple at all. They only get about a half hour of walking before his senses pick up the sound of stomping boots from a trash pile or so away. Sephiroth tries to guide Gillian down another path, one whose dirt isn't littered with the boot grooves imprinted there, because the slums are a large place. They have to have options. They have to.

"Well, at least they're going all in now that they've finally decided to get a move on," Gillian murmurs to him, after Sephiroth has had to help her through a few different shortcuts and over different piles of trash to ensure that they aren't spotted. "There's quite a few that are around right now... It makes me wonder if they didn't even bother to go after Genesis."

At least that makes for one thing that they don't have to worry about, Sephiroth supposes. "Considering the strength of Bahamut, I imagine they didn't want to risk such a losing battle," Sephiroth answers, peering over another pile carefully before he hops down it to help escort Gillian. "Even if Bahamut is not often called upon due to his demanding requirements, his strength is still well known enough... and even with the little I know of Genesis, I imagine he took the time to did a bit of damage on his way out."

The kind of man who rams a giant dragon into the building of the most influential corporation around doesn't seem as though he is the type of man to forego property damage unless he has to.

"In comparison, there's a lower risk with us, considering that you and Angeal haven't displayed - that," he continues once they're on the other side again, and heading straight over for one of the little neighborhoods that manage to survive down here in the slums. "And they have a higher reward as well, considering my own status."

It's sort of funny, having to think about all of this so explicitly when it would have been inconceivable only months - weeks - ago to him that he would have to think about himself in such a way. Yet, at the same time, it's almost a comfort to lay it out so plainly there in his own voice, giving it form where it rests in the air between him and Gillian. Makes it seem truly real and, if it is real, it is something that he can act upon.

All the humor vanishes when he realizes, as him and Gillian try to step in amongst the various people in this thriving neighborhood, that it is real, and not just some strange dream.

He has well and truly left ShinRa. Never again will he step foot in that little apartment, where he had only just begun to fill it with things of his own choosing. Never again will he stand there behind Lazard's shoulder as his longest companion patiently explains the details of the next mission to him, advising him to come to him if one of the other executive directors ever approaches him for any reason.

Many things he left behind in his old life were terrible. He can recognize that now, just little bits and pieces - no longer having to follow orders  but his own, able to eat things with taste in them, people who look to him and talk to him instead of anything else. No more needles. No more cold and lifeless labs.

It is for the better that he made this choice. Maybe he should have made this choice a long time ago, and the only thing stopping him was the lack of knowledge he possessed and which was in many ways enforced.

Knowing all of this does not take away the hurt which suddenly rolls in through his chest, and which leaves behind an ache deeper than flesh or bone or blood.

If it were only him on his own, Sephiroth isn't sure what he'd do. A part of him almost wants to stop walking at all. He wants to just stop, and stand there, and wait to see if the crowd will swallow him up and erase his existence if only he waits. Everything is too overwhelming. It is seeing the sky all over again, an expanse of blue that stretches on forever, except worse, somehow, even if he cannot see the sky at all right now. Even if all the awaits his gaze when he looks up is the distant and elaborate construction of metal upon metal upon metal.

Gillian's hand is small and light in his own. "Come on, dear," she patiently, and pulls him into an inn.

In many of the tests that Sephiroth had to take down in the labs, he can accurately say that he consistently scored very highly in many of them. He remembered, often without even having to try particularly hard, all the things that he read, and what he was told. Yet he cannot remember a single detail of how Gillian gets them a room, or even what room number that they enter into. All he can do is sink down onto one of the beds that are there, and stare down at his hands.

As a SOLDIER First Class, he never could really imagine what his future held in store for him. He would be alive, certainly, but what did that mean? Would ShinRA still need a SOLDIER ten years into the future? What would that mean for him? What would anything mean?

He's never been good at creative thinking. Aerith used to lament it with an excess of dramatics when they were children, and she had to draw in crayon to show what she meant. Thinking about the future, for him, fell into a similar category.

Yet at some point in time... He took that regular schedule for granted. No matter what would change in the future... Surely Lazard would be there, patient as always, explaining things that Sephiroth had never seen or experienced down there in the labs. He would smile, just a little bit, whenever he did something right, and his office was forever one of the few spaces that were safe to him. Somewhere he could always return to, after a mission.

Where is he supposed to go now?

"Sephiroth?" He blinks a moment at the sound of his name, and finally looks up to Gillian. She stands there before him, wrinkles forming around her mouth as she leans forward to look at him better. "You've been out of it for the last few minutes now. Are you alright?"

He's not alright. He doesn't know what to do anymore. He thought he did, he thought he was choosing what he wanted, but now that he has it, he doesn't know if he truly wants it at all. He misses Lazard. He misses Rosso. He misses the simple repetition of the life that he once knew and which he took for granted.

"I'm fine," he says, blinking a few times so that he returns to proper awareness. That was reckless of him; he should never have spaced out so much while the two of them were on the run from ShinRa. What if something happened to Gillian? "I apologize. I was lost in thought about our situation." This is not technically a lie, and so Sephiroth feels it should be fine. "This doesn't seem as though it is the most safe of locations, after all."

Straightening up, Gillian shakes her head. "Well, it can't be helped. Beggers can't be choosers in a situation like ours. We'll simply have to keep moving. Lucky for us, that's the sort of thing that doesn't earn too many looks down here in the slums."

"I will take your word for it." Sephiroth can't think of any reasons himself why people would move around so much in a place like this, himself, but he's never had any experience with it. Taking Gillian's word is all he can do. "I suppose if we attempted to reinforce the room, it would warrant complaints from the owners..."

Gillian crosses her arms and shrugs. "If they really did come after us, I doubt they would care about what would happen to the inn or anyone living in this area, so I wouldn't worry very much about it. That would mean having a little bit of morals, and that is a rather tall order for an organization that is responsible for things like your project." A sigh slips out of her. "At any rate... Do you think a walk would help, dear?"

Sephiroth considers her suggestion. "That would not be a bad idea. If I were to look around the area, then we could be better prepared with knowledge of escape routes and points of ambush."

"Actually, I was thinking that perhaps a walk would help you clear your head a little bit, and work off any energy that you have." He stares at her. Gillian stares back. "Many people do it," she says, as thought that is necessarily the issue at hand here.

He frowns. "If I were to leave you, then I would be failing in my duty," he says. "I need to keep you safe."

"I'm not that delicate, you know. I'm capable of protecting myself, or at least making enough noise that you would recognize something is happening. I do know how to fire a gun, and many other things besides."

Sephiroth's frown only grows. "You know how to fire a gun improperly."

There is a moment of silence.

Gillian gets him out of the inn room. Sephiroth notes that it's number 74 that they are in, although he is fairly certain that the inn does not have that many rooms. It isn't big enough for that.

Still, well, what else can he do? Nerves bite at his normally collected way of thinking, making it hard for him to do anything less than glance back at the inn even as he obligingly steps away from it. Angeal and Genesis had trusted him with Gillian; how can he just ignore his job to deal with his own issues? They're jeopardizing the mission in more ways than one like this.

If nothing else, however, maybe he can simply do what he had initially proposed to Gillian. They've scouted over a good chunk of the slums, but the slums are so much more massive than a simple chunk. This is a new area, and thus needs further investigation. He tells himself that as he sets off, making sure not to stray too far from the inn. It's actually a new challenge that he's never had to deal with before. Normally, even when he was sent out on his own, there was always the guarantee that he would have someone to watch whatever base camp that had been set up....

Sephiroth ruminates over it all as he familiarizes himself with the streets around the inn, takes in all the little alleys and places he could vault over easily enough. What roofs look sturdy (not many) and which ones wouldn't hold Gillian's weight let alone his own (most of them). It's actually hard to imagine what good they even do as roofs, but... Well, Sephiroth supposes it isn't as though they have to worry about bad weather.

He's still constructing a proper escape plan in his head, and then backups for the worst case scenario, when he turns a corner and Aerith headbutts him straight in the chest.

The abrupt stop which results is less from any force - Aerith is much smaller than him and can't muster up that kind of strength with her skull alone - and more from the pure bewilderment which hits far harder, in a metaphorical sense. "There he is!" Aerith says cheerfully in the meanwhile, as though she didn't just bounce right off of his pectoral muscles. But she's not talking to him. "See, I told you that he would be over here."

"Who exactly was telling who, now?" Genesis drawls, stepping forward past her to drape his arms around Sephiroth's shoulders while he's still from shock. "Anyway! It's good to see you again! If you have the time to wander about, I imagine that everything must be going accordingly, hmmmm?"

"I - everyone is fine so far, we made it, but -" Sephiroth shakes his head. He's not sure if he should pull away from Genesis to get a better look at what on earth is going on, or if he can't dare to do it. Despite the fact that they're down in the cold shadow of Midgar, Genesis's body still radiates a sort of heat that Sephiroth finds surprisingly addicting, despite the fact that he's never complained about temperature before. In the end, he stays, looking between Genesis and Aerith. "How did you make it back, and when did you two meet up?"

Aerith cheerfully takes up a spot on the other side of him, and loops her arm through his. "Oh, that little thing! Well - first of all, lets go have this chat somewhere else instead of the middle of the street, huh?"

Despite the fact that it is in the slums, and nowhere near Wall Market which is apparently getting lots of attention paid to it, restaurants still exist to some degree down here. They are nothing like the fancy restaurants that Sephiroth has seen occasionally mentioned on television ads back up on the plates - really they're little more than cramped shacks where people sit with their shoulders brushing. Not exactly Sephiroth's first choice in secluded locations for important conversations, but there are, apparently, notable clusters where people can gather and no one else cares.

At least, that's what he figures when Aerith explains it to him, Genesis being the one to shoulder past people and steal them a wobbly looking table that seems more likely to collapse on their knees. "I'll treat you," he says cheerfully, making orders for all three of them without any input from Sephiroth or Aerith whatsoever.

That's... probably fine, Sephiroth supposes. It isn't as though he would know what to order anyway, and Aerith seems happy enough. Perhaps they discussed it on their journey together. Speaking of which - Sephiroth leans forward when the server departs towards the kitchens. "Genesis, please explain." If he has to wait any longer for an explanation, Sephiroth isn't entirely sure how well he can manage.

But it's not Genesis who explains. "Gillian put me up to it!" Aerith whispers to him excitedly, leaning forward with her eyes sparkling. "She said that if I really wanted to help, hanging around you wouldn't work at all! And you'd just be distracted." Sephiroth's brow furrows together, undecided on what emotion he should be feeling right now exactly, and Aerith just giggles some more. "So she asked me to figure out a way to flag down Genesis, so that he could figure out a way to sneak back into the city."

"On a giant dragon?" Sephiroth asks, raising an eyebrow over at Genesis.

Genesis waves him off. "Oh, of course not. Bahamut has done a good deal of work for us with everything as it is. No, I merely did things on my own. Besides, I'm much harder for them to spot when they're expecting a giant dragon of Bahamut's beauty. With that, Aerith's little bout of Morse code was more than enough for me to find my way in the gaps."

Morse code? When Sephiroth blinks over at her, Aerith merely beams all the brighter. For just a moment, he ponders the many things he could ask her about... It's a list that always seems to gain a new page whenever he interacts with her, no matter as a child or now, when he's more grown. In the end, however, all he does is take a breath and decide it's the least important thing to know about right now. "How did you know that I would be in this area?" He doesn't think that Gillian and Angeal had a chance to tell either of them much about this...

Which goes to show what he knows, with the way that Aerith excitedly shoots her hand up into the air. "I told Gillian about all the different inns that are down in the slums!" she says excitedly. "Mom doesn't like it when I wander around so much, but it turned out to be really handy, knowing all these different places!"

Sephiroth's brow furrows. "Is that how Gillian managed to get you to leave...?" All Aerith does is grin back at him.

This is around when  Genesis takes rein of the conversation, leaning forward and flicking his hand through the air as though he can wave away all conversation which does not interest him. "That sort of thing really isn't necessary to talk about," he announces, and Sephiroth doesn't think he can really make that call. "You said that you and ma managed to get nice and settled, right?"

In the back of his head, Sephiroth marvels at the slight shift in Genesis's voice, the way it becomes fat and flat at referencing Gillian before moving on in that same well-mannered tone that Genesis seems to prefer. The kind of tone an orator uses, those who like to use their voice and do it often. It's something that lingers in the back of his head, even as his main focus is on Genesis's question. "That's right. Actually, I should get going again." How could he forget? Sephiroth braces his palms against the table. "I was supposed to look over the area to make sure that it was secure. I shouldn't be sitting here; Gillian is relying on me."

He doesn't even have a chance to push himself up to his feet before Genesis's fingers are wrapping around one of his wrists. Even more noticeably, however, he's laughing at him. "Oh, now I know that she didn't tell you that," Genesis snickers. "You're far too stressed!"

Sephiroth has something to say about that, honestly, but that's around the time that the waiter comes back with a large appetizer of just fries. While it's being set down, all he can do is  level his flattest stare over at Genesis. "We're being hunted down by ShinRa," he reminds him, voice low and serious. This really isn't the best place to have this sort of discussion, but, then again, is there anywhere in all the slums that would be private enough, secure enough? He'd taken for granted all of that which he had access to at ShinRa, even if his freedom had never been in his reach. "And Gillian isn't a result of anything that happened to us. She's by far the most vulnerable person involved in this." He pauses, and his gaze flicks to Aerith. "So far, at any rate, and Aerith, you should go back home before you get caught up any further."

His words almost seem to make Aerith puff up, although perhaps that perception is simply because she's stuffed her face full of fries while they've been talking. "You don't know if i would be weak!" she exclaims once she's managed to swallow, leaning forward. "I know lots of things about the slums, so I could help you out!"

"You used to cry whenever you had to get shots."

"That was years ago, you know. I'm not a little girl anymore."

"So do you think you would  be fine in a combat situation?" Sephiroth presses, and watches the way her mouth twitches and twists, brow furrowing. Aerith never did like seeing some of the security around the labs, when they were little. He can still remember picking up on that, when all he could do was watch, back then. How she's shrink at the sight of weapons, keep him or her mother inbetween her and those in black suits. "Go back home, Aerith."

He's doing her a favor; a young teenage civilian should never have to confront the sort of battle that he expects they may have to deal with, before they can make it out of Midgar. So why can't she recognize that? Why do her hands curl into such stubborn little fists there against the table?

Before they can get any further into it, Genesis is flicking his hand again. "It should be fine as long as we're together," he says, hand going back down to the table and fingers tapping along it rapid and short. "We can handle anything that comes our way, I'm sure." At least one of them is, then. Sephiroth isn't given the opportunity to interrupt, however, because Genesis just keeps talking. "At any rate, while Ma my not be as physically imposing as a man carting around such an enormous sword, you know, she has been able to survive and keep us going for all these years. You should have a little more faith in her." Pressing both hands against the table and ignoring the way it wobbles, Genesis sweeps them to the sides. "She's far from some delicate damsel you're bodyguarding because some cheap president told you to. We're in this together."

But Sephiroth barely hears that last sentence. Doesn't comprehend it. Because he's on the cusp of arguing with Genesis, wanting to argue against him, when he realizes it. When he realizes he can't.

Because he isn't, is he?

As much as he's tried to convince himself, get himself into that line of thinking, this isn't any sort of bodyguarding mission. Gillian is managing well on her own, and all he can do is simply go in circles, perhaps make them even more obvious with his actions. What is he supposed to do, here? Who can he talk to? There's a sharp pain in his chest, before it fades, becomes distant. He wants Lazard.

He wants the structure. He wants the familiarity. He want to turn around and leave the building and make his way to the office that he knows by heart, that he knows how to get to by heart.

He wants something to hold onto, and there's nothing.

At some point, he stops seeing the table in front of him - the stains that have failed to be scrubbed off, the dirty plate with its pile of frieds, Genesis's hands spread there across the rough surface. All of the chatter that was surrounding him fades away into absolutely nothing. Or, something almost like nothing, but too much to be nothing. It's just - it's like all the colors coming together to be nothing but white.

His fingers are there against his lap. Sephiroth knows this. There's the pressure of the stiff plastic chair at his back. He knows this. These are all things that he can feel, in some capacity, even as everything before his eyes doesn't register, even as it all feels so strangely detached. Separate. Not truly anything there for him.

Just like the rest of this world that he decided to wander into blindly, with nothing there for him. Nothing but family already established, a family that he's interfering with, a family that knows itself so much better than he could ever dare to. Why is he here? Why is he getting in the way? He knew what to do with Lazard. Even with everything that he's learned about his past, maybe he still could have continued living like that. Maybe he could have used that knowledge to change his life within ShinRa, where he still knew how things worked. Where he still had at least a scant few people there who he could know.

Something is moving. Rapid and hard, hitting something inflexible, stiff. His heart. That's his heart, isn't it? His heart, going faster than in any battle he's ever had to  do.

What is he doing here?

Something warm settles in his proximity. A weight to counteract the way the chair presses hard against his spine. "Sephiroth?" It's like hearing a voice in another building, muffled and strange. "Hey."

The warmth settles along his face, careful and delicate but there, and Sephiroth takes in a sharp breath. It's like suddenly pushing up from beneath the water's surface, to all the chatter and sound which is no longer blocked by the waves. There's the incessant chatter from allt he other tables around them, forks and other cutlery clicking against plates, bowls, the clinking of glasses. Aerith's breathing, slow and quiet underneath it all.

Aerith's palms curving along his cheeks. Genesis's hand pushed up against his forehead, nudging up the hat he's been wearing all this time.

Oh. Sephiroth blinks again, and the world seems to suddenly exist in a way it hadn't but a few seconds prior. Aerith has situated herself practically on his lap, staring deep into his face, and there's Genesis, no longer sitting but rather standing right there at his side. Ah. He didn't respond to a question, did he? "I apologize," he says. "I was lost in thought. What we were talking about...?"

For whatever reason, that doesn't seem to be the right response. Aerith and Genesis exchange a wordless look, with Genesis in particular raising an eyebrow. "Well, I think that's quite enough of that," Genesis says, and doesn't bother to explain what he's referring to. "Food's here, my friend, so lets put conversation aside and fill your stomach. We've been living off of the absolute bare minimum since all this started, you and I both, so we should enjoy ourselves for now."

Is that a sign from him that they should just leave the prior conversation behind? A part of Sephiroth still wants to protest, to say that he should think about Gillian, but... No. He understands, in that he understands nothing about this group. So all Sephiroth does is nod, and look down past Aerith at the food in front of them.

Just a simple sandwich, loaded with more meat and sauce than anything else, in a way that no doubt compliments the sharp vinegar and salt of the fries. Minimal vegetables, which is expected down in the slums. Sephiroth quietly goes to pick it up, only to pause at the sound of scraping right at his side. That would be Genesis on his left, pulling the chair over closer until he can flop down into it, his shoulder bumping against one of Sephiroth's own. Actually, and now that he's thinking of it, there's Aerith still using him as a seat, only leaning over to yank her own plate to herself so that she doesn't have to move.

Hm. Sephiroth blinks again. Once more, just in case the extent to which he got lost in thought has somehow affected his physical eyeballs. "What... are you two doing?"

"Hm?" With a fry poking out of her mouth, Aerith looks up at him. "Oh, well, you were looking really lonely, so it wouldn't be right for friends to just leave you on your own, now, would it?"

Genesis leans even closer against him, until it feels as though Sephiroth won't have his own seat for himself. "You've clearly been left alone in your own head for far too long," he announces before taking a large bite out of his own sandwich. He does at least have the decency to chew and swallow before saying anything else, which is apparently more than can be said about Aerith in the time they've been separate. "You know, I had heard they'd often send the great young General Sephiroth out on his own, needing only that much, but you do have others, you know." Reaching over for the massive plate still in the middle of the table, Genesis plucks up one of the fries inbetween his fore and middle fingers and gestures with it unnecessarily. "We would be wretched, Angeal and I, if we dragged you out of that place only for you to be unhappy." He holds the fry up to Sephiroth's mouth.

"But I-" There's no chance for him to finish his sentence. Genesis takes that opportunity to shove the fry straight inbetween his teeth, to the point that he very nearly chokes on it.

Distantly, in the back of his brain and a pang in his chest, Sephiroth can remember Lazard having to coach him on interacting with people. How some had to be appeased to some extent before you could slip a word in otherwise. So with that clear to him, he accepts the fries, and then a few more, trying to focus on what's there before him in the here and now.

It helps, a little bit. The bite of vinegar on his tongue. Aerith's weight on his leg. All of the burning heat that seems to roll off of Genesis eternally.

His heart beats just a little more slowly.

Just a little.

In the end, with the fries half gone, he doesn't tell them about Lazard, nor Rosso. "This isn't like anything I've had to deal with," he says instead, under Aerith's bright gaze that always seems to look straight through people. It's been impossible to miss the subtle looks Genesis has continued to pass him as well. "Before, I was used to doing things mostly by myself... It was thought to be more effective. And I thought it safer, as well." Sephiroth shakes his head. "It was always myself that was on my own, if it were anyone. It doesn't feel right to leave Gillian alone like this...."

"Well, we'll work you out of that bad habit yet," Genesis says confidently, his own sandwich long since finished. "Is there really anything to worry about? Surely we'll see anything coming, and have plenty of chances to react."

"That depends on the people who are sent," Sephiroth says, thinking of black suits. Besides him, Aerith must have the same idea, because she makees a face. "But even besides that, I noticed various things that could work against us. For example, the area over the slums is extremely structurally unsound. It wouldn't take much force for someone to make pieces of it fall, causing confusion and allowing ShinRa to move in as they'd like under that assumption."

This, at least, has Genesis frown a little bit in turn. "Do you really believe that they would go so far?" he asks, which shows he's at least taking some of Sephiroth's concerns seriously. It's a bit of a novelty, from anyone who isn't Lazard. "They can't even be sure of where in all of the slums we could be, and that's some damage, isn't it? Not only to the underside of the plate, but to the base as well, depending on what happens when anything falls." His fingers tap rapid fire against the table's surface. "That would be too risky, I would think."

"It would depend... But it's not something that I can ignore." Sephiroth finally picks up his own sandwich, only partially eaten. With how things are for Genesis and the others, he really shouldn't waste food or money... It's something he needs to keep in mind. "I'd rather us be aware of every possibility rather than be caught unawares."

Aerith glances away, off into the thriving throng of restaurant patrons. "I wonder if that's possible," she muses.

It's not. He supposes they all know that. After all, how could he have ever known about the possibility of someone like Gillian breaking into ShinRa headquarters in the first place? How could he have accounted for Angeal and Genesis persuading him?

"Well, it doesn't really matter in that case," Genesis says, so confident that it draws Sephiroth's attention to him once again. Straightening up, Genesis stretches his arms up over his head, and smiles with such an ease. For all that he has been propped up as ShinRa's greatest asset and achievement, Sephiroth doesn't think he's ever felt so sure and relaxed. A little sprout of envy curls in his gut. "More importantly, if you can't foresee every little detail, doesn't it make it more important to know what you are capable of?" Pushing himself up off of his chair, he places one hand upon his hip, and the other is offered down to Sephiroth. "And the rest of us as well. Come on, now."

It's funny. All this time he's been spending with Angeal, the two of them keeping up side by side, and he realizes how little he's inquired onto that. How... unlike him.

How long has he actually been trapped up within himself?

There in the dim lighting of the restaurant, Genesis's hand seems as warm as the rest of him, and Sephiroth can't foresee any other life where he does not reach out. As his fingers settle there against his palm, however, he looks down to Aerith. "You know, you will have to start walking, now."

"You could just carry me around like we used to do when we were kids."

"No."

Genesis laughs at her all the way until they leave the restaurant, and both of them press up against his sides there out on the street. There isn't much of a crowd to validate such a decision, really, but they do so regardless. It helps. Sephiroth takes in a breath, and feels it pass by an almost settled heart. His eyes go upwards once again, focusing on the way pipes and plates twist and intertwine there far above their heads. How much of it is in truly good condition? When was the last time any of it got proper maintenance? Which pipes still lay open, their covers lost somewhere down in the trash heaps of the slums?

Similar thoughts still haunt him when his gaze is brought back to the earth, seeing all the twisting paths, which broken buildings slope down just enough for a simple jump. Which ones have more shadows that could hide their enemies.

There's so much. And yet, it almost seems preferable, to think about this than anything else, right now.

Genesis holds his hand the entire way over to the inn, burning brighter than Fire materia, and it takes some convincing for Aerith to finally leave their side. While this may be her home turf as she and Genesis refer to it, it is nonetheless dangerous for her to linger in their presence any longer than is necessary.

"Oh," Gillian says, straightening up from where she'd been going through some of her scant baggage there on the floor. A quick sweep of the situation shows no forced entry, and no signs of injury upon her person. That much is a relief, at least. "Genesis, you managed to make it back, and so quickly. I didn't think that you would, with security being what it is around Midgar right now."

"Now now. Did you really think that your own plans to have the fair Miss Aerith to spot an opening in the perimeter of this place, especially down near the slums or anywhere of ill refute, would fail?"

"Well, I did mainly say that so that she would have a reason to go far away from all of this," Gillian explains almost patiently, and both of them blink - Genesis and Sephiroth both. While they recover from that bit of blunt honesty, Gillian rises to her feet - one of which shuts close the case she was inspecting. "Still, I am glad that you made it back safely. Angeal should be looking over what routes we can use to get out of here,a nd hopefully we will be able to slip on out, if luck is favoring us."

Is that something which can be given to luck? Sephiroth isn't sure. Luck was always something that Hojo seemed to sneer at, and which his missions could never account for. All he could do was trust in his sword, trust in his training, and trust in himself.

It's hard to mention such a thing, however. Not when Genesis can nod so easily at it, and Gillian seems content to leave it at that. Before he can muster up the courage, Genesis pulls him forward, and then they're both sitting down on one of the beds that makes up most of the room. Gillian smooths her dress out as she settles down the opposite one. "It seems as though ShinRa hasn't made it to this part of the slums yet, have they?"

For all that Genesis had said that this is nothing like a mission, Sephiroth cannot help himself. He tells Gillian everything he managed to observe before he ran into Aerith and Genesis, along with escape routes that he noticed, and his own worries about that which hangs over all of their heads.

"...I can't imagine ShinRa up high doing such a thing recklessly. They would need an additional reason to go that far for us, and they don't quite have it yet. They'd need to work up the civilians to that level a little more." She lets out a breath. "However, that's only at the highest levels. On things more down to the ground... We can't be sure that someone won't get a different idea." She dusts off her dress. "Well, if we headed out of an inn immediately after checking in, that would be all the more suspicious. So, let's settle in for the night, and we can see how the situation has changed in the morning."

It's hard to argue against logic such as that. It's also hard to argue against Gillian and Genesis when they've teamed up with each other, which is proven when Sephiroth volunteers to stay up for the night just in case anything happens, and they both shoot him down without a shred of hesitation. "No one can sneak up on me, I promise you that," Genesis boasts proudly, trying to shove him (somewhat ineffectually) into his bed.

Of course, for a situation like this, hoping for a nice quiet night is rather out of the question.

Sephiroth still isn't quite asleep when there's harried footsteps down the hall, and rapid fire knocking along their door. He reaches for his sword as a matter of course, but Genesis has him beat. Already on his feet, he's at the doorway in a matter of seconds with his brow furrowed. "Aerith?" he asks before he's even properly opened the door, and Aerith is practically slipping in before the last syllable of her name.

"ShinRa's troops are mobilizing really quickly," she says, breathless, cheeks flushed, and yet her ponytail somehow still perfectly pulled back where a little orb of materia holds it all together, hair and ribbon both. "Everyone's talking about it, and they apparently are all freaked out over something or another. No one knows what it's about, not really. Some people think it might be someone really high up in the ranks, but they never have any names."

Just a little bit slower than him and Genesis, Gillian is getting out of her own bed and grabbing her shawl. "Well, the rumor mill often doesn't," she says. "Rather, maybe we should be glad that it's giving us nothing, rather than false flags. Where are they mobilizing to?"

"I don't think even they know," Aerith huffs. "Some of them look as though they're going to go to the Sector Eight slums, and there's even a few that look as though they might try Sector 9 - a mob boss over there actually sent some of his guys over to see what was up with that, when I was passing on by. There are definitely people heading on this way, however." 

Gillian shakes her head. "Well, it looks as though our reunion with Angeal will have to be postponed," she says, slipping her feet into her boots. "Let's get ready to go before it's too late to do even that."

Clearly Aerith wasn't the only person to hear about what was happening with ShinRa. As they all step out onto the streets, it's clear to see that the entire district seems to have filled up the streets. Neighbors gossiping with one another across windows, employees hurriedly rushing from in the middle of their shifts regardless if their boss yells after them, many others even more nervous than their group with bags slung over their shoulders. Just the act of trying to stay together is difficult no matter how close they stick, and Sephiroth has to take Aerith by the hand to make sure she doesn't get swept away in all of it. Genesis does the same for Gillian, his arm wound tight around her shoulders. Somehow, Genesis's other hand ends up in Sephiroth's own. Probably a smart idea, really.

"On the bright side, we probably won't be noticed much if we tried to get out of here," Genesis mutters over to him, leaning in close. "Unfortunately, that looks easier said than done, with how wound up everyone is."

Sephiroth nods. The streets down in the slums aren't very large to begin with; it's generous to even call them streets instead of just simple dirt roads that are large enough for a few people to make their way down comfortably. With so much of the slum's population out in this particular area, they'd really have to fight to make their way out of here. Certainly, Sephiroth is sure that he and Genesis could at the very least leap to the rooftops, and make their way from there. But that would just draw more attention...

"There's no need to rush," Gillian says, despite the fact it sounds as though the opposite should be true. "Just move carefully through the crowd, and we'll make it to some areas where we can breathe a little easier."

Really, it seems like the only option they have for the moment. So what else can they do? Staying tight together, squeezing past the rest of the crowd whether as a scrunched up ball or a tightly linked chain, they make their way through, trying just to find anywhere that isn't absolutely congested.

"I'm sorry," he tells Aerith as they all slowly push through, Genesis hissing at other people from where he's taken the lead for now. She looks up at him, eyebrows raised, so he knows he has to keep going. "With the way that things are, I don't think that there's going to be a chance for us to get you back home, or out of this sector. You may need to stay with us for a while longer... I'll keep you safe." He's not sure if he's the best person who should do that kind of thing, but it's a promise he makes regardless.

Aerith glances away for just a second, a small smile playing on her lips. "It's okay... You don't have to take responsibility for everything I do, you know. I made the choice to come over here when I heard the news, so it's on me."  She looks back up to him with a bob of her head, hair swaying around her face and that grin in full swing again. "Besides, aren't I safest right next to one of the most esteemed and fantastic warriors of all time?"

It's good to know that even in the midst of a crisis, Aerith is still capable of teasing him. She can't be that worried if she can still do that. "You shouldn't need me to defend you," he says solemnly, pulling her a little closer so that he can elbow check someone away that was getting a little too close to their group. "And... you've always hated violence."

Hated the sight of guns, of weapons of any sort, back in their days in the lab. She used to cry just seeing even the faintest glimpse of knuckle dusters, or the bulge of a hidden dagger. Aerith always made for a difficult patient in the labs, but weapons only made her all the worse. Sephiroth can still remember those days well, and all the complaints from the scientists. Even now, for all her levity, has she changed that much? He doesn't think so.

People may not be Sephiroth's area of expertise, but he suspects he may be onto something with how Aerith hesitates in giving him an answer, at least right away. "I hate it," she admits, confirming his suspicions. "But, at the same time... I think I need to be here, now. I think... maybe it's okay if I'm here."

It feels as though there's a lot on her mind, a lot that she's not necessarily telling him... but there's no time to have that kind of conversation now. All he can do is accept her decision, and keep pushing along with Genesis and Gillian.

For a moment, it seems as though they might be able to continue their streak of good luck, that they will make it through without anything happening. Sephiroth doesn't quite want to believe it, not yet, but he has to admit that they are making it to parts of this section where the crowds are not quite so dense -

A whistle, high and sharp, and then the aching boom of an explosion.

"Damn," Gillian hisses, Genesis grimacing hard besides her, before she manages to react quicker than the rest of the stunned crowd around them. It's a split second choice, a reaction born from experience, that allows her to start tugging Genesis and the rest of them in turn towards a small side-alley. Just enough time before there's screaming, shoving, pushing. Sephiroth kicks someone away so that Aerith doesn't get separated in it all.

As they all hole away in a small dead end alley full of trash, Sephiroth cranes his head back. The sound alone was distant, not directly near them - but still too close for comfort. And this isn't the best place to try and find things, not this angle, and he curses the limits of sight.

Fortunately, he's not alone, and there's more than just sight to rely on. Even as his ears are still ringing, Genesis draws his attention, raising one hand to point in a direction. That's enough for Sephiroth, and he leaps up, hauls himself up onto a roof to crouch there. With everyone in a panic like they are, their gazes probably won't go here. He's counting on that, as his gaze does a sweep of the underside of the plates. There - an entire sector of slums away, fire licks in small bursts along metal and piping, and he can still see some of it ablaze as it falls to the ground. He follows the descent, thinks he can spot the shine of ShinRa uniforms.

However, he can't see any particularly heavy artillery... Was it the use of a materia? But that would require high level SOLDIER to be authorized to use that kind of Fire materia, and he can't imagine they'd encourage it. Not down in the slums, where fire-based monsters would resist it, and there'd be a risk of setting everything ablaze. Blizzard, Aero... Those would be more fitting for an operation like this.

Who would use something like that, and why shoot up towards the bottom of the plate? It'd been his fear, of course, but with the logic that Gillian and Genesis had provided...

Something cold and miserable sinks into his gut. All Sephiroth can do is ignore it as he slips back down into the alley, while the streets just outside of it get all the more hectic. "It's from the northeast," he tells them. "Everyone is going to be heading in the direct opposite direction if they try to leave this part of the sector at all, but it may actually be better for us if we try to go a little more east. It will be risky, but it would keep us away from the crowds, and I doubt the ShinRa troops are interested in climbing over trash. If we're quick and careful, we should be able to skirt past them." Plans like this aren't normally his specialty, in Sephiroth's opinion, but this feels solid enough for him to be confident recommending it.

Gillian considers it for just a moment before nodding. They both know this isn't the moment to linger too long on an indepth plan. Quick action is all they need here, so he's not surprised when she says, "Let's get out of this part of the slums as quick as possible, then, and we'll see what we're up against."

If Angeal were here, would this all be easier? Sephiroth has to wonder that as him and Genesis take to the rooftops, trying to stay low with Aerith and Gillian in their arms. Like this, even for a moment, their arms are full, they have no way to protect themselves if the enemy were to attack in this very moment, and the cases that Gillian is carrying with them only threaten to make them slower.

Fortunately, unlike with his concerns about the undersides of the plates, this particular worry doesn't come true. They manage to land back down onto the ground with no one looking, and they immediately take off before anyone can look. There's nothing else to do but that.

Back on the ground, even if they're slow, and they're wearing dresses - a nightgown in Gillian's case - the two opt to stay on their own feet. Sephiroth holds himself back from asking why, from asking if Aerith wouldn't want to stay close to him or Genesis like a civilian should. Instead, he simply rests his hand on Masamune, and counts himself fortunate that he will have his hands free.

The further they move away from the little settlement in the slums, the quieter it seems to get, although in a way that doesn't feel wholly natural. There are no more explosions after the first; did the disobedient soldier get reprimanded? Or is this more planned? Sephiroth tries to wring that story out from the silence that surrounds him, or the damage that his eyes are drawn to whenever he glances up through their journey amongst trash.

In some ways, it is almost a relief when Genesis perks up, and Sephiroth mimics him soon after. Past the sound of boots stomping against well trampled dirt, they bring Aerith and Gillian low amongst the discarded metal and wood and trash. Sephiroth dares to close his eyes, putting all his focus into what he can hear.

Just a squadron, he thinks. There are many footsteps, yes, but not a worrying amount. Certainly not over a dozen, at the very least. Just a group to scout things out ahead? Or maybe to establish order in the slums after that spontaneous attack... They stay in place for a good five minutes, long enough of a time for the squadron to move past them and to be sure that there's no lingering. Still, that gives him an idea, and he looks over to the rest of them even as they move through the trash.

"Let me move on ahead," he tells them. "I can scout the path, make sure that there's nothing waiting for us, or if we have to change routes." If he's the one moving ahead, it'll be better for everyone else. He can handle himself, after all.

Genesis huffs, although Gillian and Aerith are both frowning at him. "Oh, you wish to take all the glory for yourself, is that it?" he says. Sephiroth isn't sure how he got that idea, honestly. However, this isn't really the time to ask about it, especially since Genesis keeps talking. "Very well, I'll graciously allow you the forward charge. However, should anything happen, you merely need give a whistle, and we'll be right there."

"I'd rather you weren't," Sephiroth says, and then faces ahead to move a little quicker before Genesis can get into an argument with him.

To keep going in the same direction, that means eventually climbing over a trash pile and down onto the dirt roads, at least for a moment so that they can move onto the next. Sephiroth glances from side to side carefully, making sure that he's in the clear even before he lands. Another leap, and he can find a decently sized and utterly decimated vehicle. It works perfectly fine for his purposes as he gets atop it, squinting towards where he can see a particular gathering pulled together.

The vast majority seem to be Security forces, from what he can tell, although a quick glance shows SOLDIER uniforms mixed in here and there. The balance is far from equal, but perhaps ShinRa thought that if they went with too strong of an impression, people would get even more worried than they already are.

What truly catches his eye, however... is a uniform that's only recently become familiar to him. Dark navy, with lines of glowing blue. A figure besides him, unknowable past a masked helmet.

Azul, and the man who watches over all of Deepground.

They stand there amidst everyone, Azul like a loyal dog right behind the Overseer, and Sephiroth knows immediately that neither of them would have set off any sort of Fire spell or heavy artillery up towards the underside of the plate. One from a seeming lack of interest in Materia, the other having far too much interest in control over himself and others.

Once again, a whistle.

Once again, an explosion.

Sephiroth unsheathes Masamune.

The debris which rains down on him from right over his head doesn't even get a chance to remain on fire, from the force of his swings, and the destruction of the debris follows right after, almost as if reality nearly forgot it as an afterthought. Everything crashes down around him, hitting the dirt hard, collapsing into piece of trash which were made for it all. As Masamune slides right back into its sheathe, he slowly raises his head, and his eyes land upon a familiar figure who lands upon the lop of a massive pipe which has come to make its home down in the trash heaps of the slums.

Rosso hauls her folded up blade-gun onto her shoulder, and stares down at him with a gaze whose calmness belies a deep burning rage. She bares her teeth at him in a smile, all teeth.

"And so I find you here once again, I see."