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Once, a lab assistant forgot a plushie in his room. He had said it was for his nephew at home, who was just a bit younger than Sephiroth was. It was a little white rabbit, fluffy and fat, with one ear up and the other down. He saw it fall from the assistant’s bag as he was leaving, and froze. He couldn't bring himself to move or say something, so he stood there and pretended he hadn't seen anything.
The moment he was alone, he went to the rabbit, and hugged it to his chest. He had never had a plushie before, or hugged something so soft, something that was made to be cuddled. He squished it as hard as he could, eyes closed tight, and counted to five under his breath, before running to his bed and hiding the bunny under it.
That night, before falling asleep, he tried to look for hiding spots for it. There was nothing in his room except the bed, he knew, but he still looked at the walls, hoping an idea would come. He fell asleep soon after.
That bunny became his lifeline. He would always hug her for five seconds before going to sleep, no matter how dirty her fur had gotten. If he had any time in his room, he would run towards her and hide with her under the bed. It was childish, and he was punished for hiding every time, but he couldn't risk her being taken away; he would rather hide with her.
He hadn't named her, too scared and paranoid she would be taken away. Still, privately in his mind, as a whisper even in his thoughts, he would call her Bun. It was so childish he felt ashamed, and he could never admit it to himself, but her name had always been Bun.
She was with him for months, and her fur had gotten so dirty it was mostly gray, but he loved her all the same. Sometimes he'd notice his dirty hair matched hers, and smile to himself as the only one privy to her existence. But the professor soon noticed his eagerness at getting back to his room, and his suspicion began to arise.
Sephiroth tried to be sneakier. He wouldn't show his excitement at getting to see her, and carefully tried to stop emoting at all. He limited his hugs to three seconds only, and would only hide under the bed when certain the professor was long gone, and none of the assistants were supposed to be there.
He came back one afternoon from training to find her gone. He went under the bed and found dust, under the pillow there was nothing but the blanket, and there was no other place to hide. He was old enough that he knew not to cry; he hadn't done so in years. Still, in that moment, he felt a piece of himself break. He hid under the bed and cried and cried. As if searching for her still, as if he'd ever find her there again. He lost her, and he would never have her back.
Years later he found the cameras in his room and realized there was no place to hide.
Years later it would be found in an abandoned Shinra lab, still collecting dust.