Chapter Text
Being a part of SOLDIER didn’t leave much time for creativity or self-expression—beyond the time he had a months-long battle with the Shinra PR department to be allowed to wear his iconic red coat. The need to be creative sometimes becomes overwhelming, a deep seated desire inside his soul.
But alas, the schedule of a SOLDIER does not allow for much time to himself, let alone creating anything worthwhile and with enough meaning to justify ignoring his other duties.
There is also the smaller, more quiet part of his mind that reminds him that whatever he creates might be worthless, pointless, ugly. Not something worth wasting his limited free time to indulge in. But that is a thought to ponder on later.
So he contents himself with consuming others' creative works, as much as he can between missions, training, and meetings.
Thankfully, he has a free evening, one where he was not required to be anywhere by Shinra or anybody else. Under usual circumstances, he would have sought out Angeal and Sephiroth to spend this rare free time with, but apparently both of them had been assigned missions for the night so he was the only First Class SOLDIER here at the moment.
So he scrolls through the discussion forum for poetry written by Midgar poets and residents, though it lacks anything of deep interest to him. Genesis sighs, propping his head up with one hand, resting on the couch arm.
Alone.
Genesis huffs, rolling his eyes even though he is the only one in his room. He can enjoy one evening without needing them here, he is perfectly capable of existing on his own as an individual. Which is precisely what he is doing, indulging in reading for a whole evening without anyone interrupting or asking him to take a break from analyzing Loveless.
Though, it would be far more enjoyable if they were also here.
Stupid, stupid thoughts.
He forces his eyes back on the screen and back to the comment section of the prose of highly questionable quality. What is this story even about? He read all 22,508 words in total, yet it feels as if half of the story’s content, the meat was missing, filled with references and vague mentions of their past relationship development but it doesn’t exist.
Part of him feels like he is losing his mind trying to figure out all the references that seem so specific, but there is nothing to contextualize them at all, leaving it seeming vague in actuality. It cannot possibly be an accident, but he can’t find anything in the text explaining it. He even looked at the author’s webpage to check if this was a series of works, but it was not.
Who writes a story and leaves half of it unwritten?
He turns his head, mouth already opening to say some kind of snide comment out loud for Angeal and Sephiroth’s amusement. Then he freezes.
It’s only him, his laptop, and his empty room with a very clear lack of either Angeal or Sephiroth.
Now he scowls. What a stupid thing to do.
At least nobody was here to witness such an embarrassing moment.
“Stupid,” he mutters to himself, leaving a like on the piece of writing because even if it had faults he can still appreciate what is there. Then he clicks on the write a comment section and begins typing out his comment and thoughtful critique.
He types for over twenty-five minutes, nonstop. Perhaps it is too much or overdone, but he never half-does anything so by the time he’s done he wrote ten paragraphs, a small essay by his standards. Clicking comment, Genesis leans back on his couch, satisfied by his thorough and thoughtful comment. The writer did ask for comments so he is always more than happy to give feedback and explain in detail what he thought about a piece of writing.
Nothing on his PHS. It is strangely quiet, not even an email or message from Lazard about something for tomorrow, which would almost be suspicious if not for the fact Lazard is trying a new system to lessen stress for SOLDIERS (who knows if it will work if he’s the only one who tries).
Not even a mission status update from Angeal or Sephiroth.
They must be busy, of course. Likely in active combat if they have not messaged him at all the entire day. Not because they didn’t want to. They are simply busy that is all. He is not even slightly upset his PHS has remained silent all day. At all.
Then a little red notification pops up on his laptop screen.
FIRSTSShipper Replied
Holy crap man?? This is such a long comment what? Normally people don’t comment that much on my stories?? Thank you for enjoying it! Always nice to hear from a fellow Shinra Nights fan!!
But also, I don’t know if I’d agree that my characterization was lacking. I mean, I feel like it’s pretty in-character for them to be so obsessed with each other like in canon and all, right? So it’s totally within the possibility for them to travel across different universes to find each other again.
A what fan?
Shinra Nights? Should he know what that is?
When did he ever claim to be a fan of this work? This is the first time he has ever read it and that is not the title of this piece?
He quickly types out a response, hunched over his keyboard.
TheWanderingSoul Replied
I would hardly call myself a fan of the work since this is my first exposure to it and your writing. My question still remains; where is the build up to the depths of their obsession? What leads them to going to such lengths to find each other? Where is the beginning and middle of reaching such a point? Such obsession and devotion does not develop overnight, nor does it reach such levels of insanity and disregard for others so easily. Where is the history that brought them to this point?
Then he takes a long sip of his wine before turning back to the keyboard and typing more out.
While the writing itself is excellent, I cannot help but to question the context of it all. Where is that history? There are so many veiled references and clues to the past, hints of what has happened. Yet none of it is said explicitly by either character or the narrator. How can readers appreciate the full extent of the story and the world if they lack the critical details? Under usual circumstances, I would assume that it would be shown to the readers in the future, but this is a story with only one chapter. It hurts the story to be lacking these critical elements, they are the foundation of each and every word, sentence, and paragraph you have written.
Then he glances at his PHS, just a short, quick look. Yet the screen is unchanged, no notifications still.
Of course, Angeal and Sephiroth are on missions so it is unlikely that they would text him about anything menial or unimportant. Obviously. He knows this, he is not inept or unintelligent.
But every single time he has seen his PHS without any notifications this evening there is a sharp pang of something in his chest. A longing, something missing.
A red notification appears on his screen.
Genesis squints at the laptop screen and through the overly blue screen that Shinra refuses to allow them to manually adjust for some Goddess Forsaken reason. That idiot actually responded to his critiques, then? He huffs and clicks on the notification in the corner mentally preparing himself for the nonsensical argument he is about to read.
FIRSTSShipper Replied
Dude calm down it's not that serious don’t you know how fics work?? the build up was in canon already?? I don’t have to rehash that, it’s just a As3 story
A what?
As3?
Is this some kind of strange online terminology he has never heard or stumbled across during his late night sessions? Or is this something he should know and this internet stranger knows more about him and is flaunting it?
He quickly opens another Moogle search tab.
What in the Goddess’s name is As3?
Of course, like any reasonable person, he is going to do his research first to ensure he is properly educated before responding to some online idiot and making himself out as the fool. He has a reputation to uphold, even his anonymous one.
Archive of Shinra’s Story Storage.
Such a strange title for a website, if you ask him.
So, to learn more as any educated person would do, he clicks on it. For research purposes.
Not out of curiosity or interest in what it might entail.
No, of course not.
Genesis trudges into the SOLDIER breakroom, already knowing the dark circles underneath his eyes are horrendously prominent and entirely impossible to ignore.
But he had entered an unknown literary world and had barely realized the time until it was four in the morning when he had to be up at six in the morning. Even once he slept, when he woke all he could think of was that forsaken site. Archive of Shinra’s Story Storage.
The breakroom is exactly the same but somehow the overhead bright lights seem brighter than usual, almost painful to look at. It's hard to tell if that’s because Shinra has no idea how to choose lighting fixtures or because the mako in his body is still working to repair the eye strain he gave himself last night.
He blames that site and all of those authors posting their writing on it. Why are these stories so addictive? It is so simple to click next chapter and keep reading chapter after chapter after chapter. Not to even mention the whole system of searching for fanfictions, it is so detailed, so highly specific. The tagging system is a work of wonders.
No matter how niche, how specific, how strange, the tagging system would locate it in seconds.
Truly, Lazard should consider implementing something similar for SOLDIER programs, it would probably fix all the inefficiency issues plaguing the program.
He marches past the few other SOLDIERS in the room, directly to the table set up with four coffee machines, always filled with burning hot coffee to ensure the SOLDIERS never run out. Standing in front of the first machine, he jabs the button. Scalding hot coffee pours into the cup, steam rising into the air.
Perhaps five cups of coffee for breakfast will allow him to survive the day.
He needs this.
“Genesis?”
Angeal’s concerned voice appears beside him, like a manifestation of Genesis’s own concerned thoughts and feelings into one very tall, heavily muscled man.
When did Angeal get back to HQ?
He steps up beside Genesis, already dressed in his standard First Class uniform, Buster Sword on his back. Unharmed and alive. Angeal lays a warm hand on Genesis’s shoulder. His brows furrow, concern clear in his expression. “Did you sleep at all? I thought you didn’t have any missions last night?”
Does Angeal even consider how such an action would look to outsiders? To anyone observing them? Does he consider how such a familiar touch makes him feel?
“I did not.” Genesis chugs the entire cup of coffee in one go, braving the disgusting coffee. Straight black coffee. Horrid. “I had a mission of a different nature calling to me.”
Angeal furrows his brows for a moment before his expression turns to one of amusement and understanding. He huffs, amused. “Ah, reading again?”
It is the simple way that Angeal knows him, does not have to think too hard about why Genesis does certain things or what he cares about.
Perhaps it is because they have known each other almost their entire lives.
Or perhaps it is something more.
He banishes the thought. Locking it in a place to examine when he is alone and can think without anyone interrupting him.
He waits for his cup to fill up with more coffee, a second dose of coffee-grind filled liquid. He would hardly call it coffee but he had it worse in Wutai during battles or that time they allowed Sephiroth to choose a restaurant and they all ended up horribly sick. “I have fallen down a hole I cannot climb back from.”
“Is this a new Loveless theory?” Angeal starts getting himself a cup of coffee as well. While Genesis genuinely hates this stuff, Angeal is always more than happy to drink it like it’s the finest drink he has ever tasted. He adds exactly one sugar, as if it will alter the flavor in any meaningful way. “Or something new?”
He chugs the second cup, tearing his gaze away from Angeal’s expression, his eyes watching Genesis. Curse this man and his attentive nature. “Something new.”
Angeal snorts, one hand on his hip—a gesture Genesis knows he picked up from his mother. “How late were you up? Or did you even sleep at all?”
“Two hours is hardly the worst amount of sleep I have gotten in one evening,” Genesis says, as he begins to pour a third cup.
Maybe a third cup will save him.
“Alright,” Angeal says, reaching forward to stop him, taking the cup away in one movement. “I think two is the limit here. This stuff isn’t good for you, you know.”
How dare he.
Depriving him of a life saving substance in these trying times.
“Angeal.” He says the name as a warning, a hint of a threat. Genesis turns towards him, then gestures to his eyes. “We are both full of mako, we have healed from bullet wounds in minutes before. I doubt Shinra’s breakroom coffee can do us any damage.”
He reaches forward, plucking the cup out of Angeal’s hand with a grin. “If Shinra’s breakroom coffee is able to do more damage than a Wutai bullet, then I think someone should report it to Professor Hojo—I think he might enjoy researching its properties. Perhaps it could even be weaponized.”
“It’s the principle of the matter,” Angeal says, taking the cup back, not looking away. “Either way, you should still care for yourself.”
“Because it’s the honorable thing to do, huh?” And he reaches for the cup again, in front of Angeal, determined. “Give me back the coffee, Angeal. This is necessary for me to make it through the day, caring for myself be damned.”
“Well, then, my mother would be very upset to hear about it.” Angeal grins, smugly. This bastard. “I’m sending her a letter today anyway. I’ll let her know you aren’t eating properly and you’ll get a letter along with mine next time we get mail from Banora. It’s been a minute since you’ve been lectured by her.”
He will forever blame Gillian for teaching Angeal the power of lectures.
He narrows his eyes. “You would not dare.”
Angeal is entirely unfazed, unbothered by the threat in his voice. “You’ve known me my whole life practically, I think you know I would.”
Genesis groans. “You are a terrible, terrible man. Using your mother against me in this way. All I want is a cup of coffee—”
“Three cups.”
He and Angeal freeze at the same moment.
There is a loud crunch.
Then loud chewing.
He slowly, very slowly turns his head. Then, there is Zackary Fair, leaning against one of the breakroom tables and loudly eating some mass-produced snack, simply watching them.
Has he been watching them the entire time?
It makes him feel incredibly seen, observed. And very, very self-conscious suddenly, hyper aware of each and every movement he has made and how he stands currently. Too close to Angeal, noticeably too close. Away from others, he would be more than happy to stand so close, yet it feels revealing here in the breakroom.
Genesis stands up straight, a more socially acceptable distance from Angeal. “Can we help you, stray?”
“I’m just watching,” Zack says, tossing more of his snacks into his mouth. More loud crunches. “Also, that would’ve been three cups of coffee. Not a cup. Just so you know.”
Genesis makes a face. “And why are you watching in the first place?”
He shrugs, then quickly looks between him and Angeal. Like he finds something incredibly funny and just isn’t telling them the joke. “Just watching.”
Why is the stray being cryptic?
Why did he glance between them like that?
What does he know?
Genesis glances once at Angeal. “Can you translate the puppy’s speech?”
“I’m not a puppy!” Zack gets off the table. “Angeal, I still can’t believe you told everyone that, man! I’m never gonna live that down. Even when I’m a First, everyone's still gonna be calling me a puppy.”
It’s hard to take the stray seriously when everything he does seems so much like a hyperactive, energetic puppy that just learned how to walk and decided to make that everyone else’s problem. That was his first thought when Angeal introduced the stray and he maintains that it’s very appropriate. “It’s a very accurate descriptor.”
Angeal laughs. A warm, full-chested kind of laugh that makes people around him want to laugh as well, a rare show of emotion. “I’m sorry, Zack, but it’s true.”
“Ugh,” Zack mutters, shoving chips in his mouth with no finesse. “I can’t believe you guys are teaming up on me.” Then he looks at them with narrowed eyes. “Actually, yeah I can believe that.”
“Zack,” Angeal says, his voice turning from joking to serious mentor in one second. “Aren’t you supposed to be training with the other Seconds right now?”
Zack freezes. Eyes darting around the room in a slight panic like somehow someone will appear to save him or give him an answer. “No?”
“It’s on your schedule. I checked it this morning.” Angeal crosses his arms. “You’re supposed to be training right now. Not in the breakroom.”
And then Zack bolts out of the room, full speed. “I’m gone! Bye!”
How and where does he get so much energy from? Is there a way to bottle it and share it with others so they can have a fraction of his energy?
“Like a puppy who couldn’t remember his own daily routine.”
Angeal sighs, shaking his head. “I even reminded him this morning.”
“Perhaps try writing it on his forehead so he sees it first thing in the morning in his mirror when he willingly styles his hair like that.” He reaches around Angeal, taking back the coffee cup with flair. “And I shall be taking this back—”
Angeal grabs his wrist. “No. I wasn’t joking. I’ll tell my mother and she’ll have something to say about it.”
Genesis’s mouth drops open. “How could you deny me like this? I need—”
“What kind of soap opera dialogue is happening in here?” Second Class Kunsel’s voice cuts through the moment.
Instantly, he pulls away from Angeal, whipping around to look at Kunsel. Genesis crosses his arms, turning away. “Do you watch a lot of soap operas?”
He does not look back at Angeal.
He does not imagine himself and Angeal in a soap opera.
He does not .
The fanfictions on Archive of Shinra’s Story Storeroom consume him.
He reads them between meetings with Lazard, on transportation for missions, in the corner of the breakroom, between training sessions, at the table when Angeal has time to cook for him, Sephiroth, and the stray.
Before he sleeps, he has to read at least one chapter or else the memory of it consumes his mind.
The site now has a bookmark on the main page of his PHS, for easy access.
Genesis quickly types out a comment for chapter seventeen of the current fic he has been obsessively reading, slightly impeded by the limitations of a PHS keyboard instead of an actual one, but he makes do.
TheWanderingSoul Commented
The way in which you have utilized the underlying themes of Loveless was done in such a subtle way, it would almost be easy to pass by or not notice on a light reading of this chapter. Yet, you have captured the perfect balance of subtle and engrained into the fabric of the story.
Though I must question the choice to refer to Loveless as a simple love story, anyone with working eyes or ears would know that Loveless extends beyond the typical scope of a love story, it encompasses so much more than that. I would highly recommend this analysis of Loveless to understand the depths of the story, though of course this is only a small, cursory introduction as it is a mysterious piece of literature.
A/G/SLoversBeliever Replied
I love how TheWanderingSoul went from not knowing what fanfiction is to suddenly existing in the comment section of like every single fic on As3 lol the dedication is real
MAKO1
TheWanderingSoul is my favorite niche internet celebrity i hope you know, whoever you are, TWS, that you're a legend nobody can write an analysis like you <33
MoogleTonberry
I still think TWS should write a fic i would read that SO fast
Him, write a fanfiction?
When would he even have the time to do so? What would he even write about?
He adjusts on the hard seating of the SOLDIER transport, clicking onto chapter eighteen. He must finish this chapter before they arrive at the mission or else he will spend this whole time dealing with anti-Shinra operatives while thinking about the next scene and the answer to this cliffhanger.
Maybe he could even finish reading the entire fic by the time they arrive.
“You have been spending a lot of time on your PHS recently, Genesis. I can’t remember the last time you recited Loveless.” Sephiroth turns his head ever slightly, his long hair falling with the movement. Somehow, it is elegant despite him not trying. It’s almost annoying how effortless it is for him.
Despite it not being a question, the way he speaks it makes it sound like one.
Genesis pauses, halfway through chapter eighteen of a 250,000 word fic, an AU of his favorite theatrical version of Loveless—the best director and lead actors. Perfection. He had been devouring it with a ravenous hunger, desperate for anything new related to his lifelong obsession.
He fixes his posture. “I am, in fact, reading.”
The transport shakes, jolting them slightly. The mission is outside of Midgar, in the outskirts of the city—empty land, barren of plants and animals for the most part. The roads are ill-maintained so the entire trip has been rough, like they are being thrown around at sea almost.
Sephiroth raises an eyebrow and it is almost doubtful. “Every twenty minutes or so, you rapidly type something. I thought it was fair to assume you weren’t reading.”
He gestures with one hand, eyes glued to his screen. “Yes, yes. I have texts to reply to, I take a small break every twenty minutes or so, as you said. Nothing unusual.”
Now, the smallest hint of something else enters Sephiroth’s voice—hesitancy? Confusion? Something else he cannot identify? “But Angeal is on a mission, without his PHS.”
Why is Sephiroth so talkative today?
Sephiroth rarely prompts conversations on his own, or if he does it is usually with some sort of random fact he brings up or asks about something about the world in general. Not like this.
He needs to finish this chapter before he forgets what happened, there are so many things he must mention in his comment for this chapter. “Why would it be Angeal?”
“Who else?”
Genesis looks up. Sephiroth simply looks back, unfazed. “You have never mentioned texting anyone else frequently, besides myself and Angeal. So rationally, you would be texting Angeal.”
Across from him in the transport, he stares at Sephiroth. “I—”
Unblinking, Sephiroth asks, “You are texting Angeal, yes?”
Genesis leans back, clicking his PHS off. It feels far too pointed, like an accusation of some sort or as if Sephiroth is demanding to know. Last he knew, Sephiroth never cared who he spoke to. Why would he have the time to care? “Why do you care whom I text?”
There is a strange pause in the air before Sephiroth responds, “I don’t.” His intense gaze doesn’t change, the same green eyes that are so different from the usual mako green that all SOLDIERS have, unique only to Sephiroth. “I was simply curious.”
Neither of them looks away from each other’s gaze—locked into observation.
What is Sephiroth thinking?
Why did he even ask?
If he doesn’t care, why ask?
Why is it so hard to understand what is happening behind those green eyes?
A shout from outside of the transport, rolling to a stop. “Let’s go!”
Genesis rips his gaze away and he tucks away his PHS, still left on chapter eighteen. Then he reaches for his rapier, drawing it to be ready for whatever this mission holds for them. “How would you feel about a wager?”
Sephiroth stands, taller than Genesis as always. “What sort of wager?”
Genesis grins, preparing for this combat based mission. “I wager I will be the one to complete the mission faster. Loser must buy whatever the other wants.”
A smirk. “I hope I can rise to the challenge.”
“Don’t disappoint, Silver General.”
And the mission begins.
“Aren’t you supposed to be helping me?”
Genesis does not even glance up from his PHS screen opened to the As3 site and chapter fifty-three of the fic. He will not look away from this. “Yes, yes, keep doing what you’re doing. Perhaps you will learn additional skills besides how to squat a ridiculous amount of times in a row.”
“Angeal asked you to help me,” Zack says, stopping his sword training to stand in front of Genesis now. “Cause he’s on a mission and he can’t check my forms. You’ve looked up from your PHS like three times.”
Yes, because the slow burn relationship is starting to actually catch fire and he needs to know what happens after their argument. They are so close to accidentally confessing. “Are you unable to train on your own for one day?”
“Why did you even agree to do this if you weren’t going to actually help me?” Zack asks.
Genesis rolls his eyes.
Silence.
It’s unusual for the stray, which is what makes him look up. Zack looks at him, his eyes narrowed and looking like he’s thinking very hard about something. Then he nods once. “Right. Yeah. That makes sense for you guys.”
“What?”
Zack shrugs. “Nothing. Just that you guys are like super in each other’s business so it’d make sense you’d agree even if you weren’t going to do anything. Checks out is all.”
Affronted, he instantly says, “We are not.”
Zack shrugs, holding his sword in one hand. “Kunsel described it as co-dependent or something and I think that makes sense.”
Genesis pushes off the wall, shoving his PHS away into his pocket. “We are not codependent . All three of us are independent, responsible adults. We do not require each other’s presence to function.”
He points a threatening finger at Zack. “That is a ridiculous statement. Tell Second Class Kunsel that.”
Zack holds up his hands. “Hey, man. I’m just saying it’s kinda true. You, Angeal, and Sephiroth are always together. Or you’ll start talking about each other in every conversation. Like more than you do with Loveless.”
Speechless.
He cannot even think of something to say.
“We do not! Stop making unfounded assumptions about us, Fair!”
Zack raises an eyebrow in an overly exaggerated way. “You keep using ‘we’ for everything, dude. You’re saying it, not me.”
“You should stop talking—”
The doors to the training room open and Angeal steps inside. He blinks a couple of times. “What is happening?”
Zack breaks into a huge smile, like an over-excited puppy. “Angeal, you’re back!”
Angeal looks over at Genesis. “It was barely a couple hours. He couldn’t have talked that much.”
He remembers what Zack says and Genesis crosses his arms. “It’s nothing.”
It’s nothing.
They are not codependent.
They are not .
GoldensaucerTonberry124
TWS!!!! You’re back!!! Thank you for your comment!! And oh my god your analysis of this chapter and what’s going on was spot on!! I was trying to reference that poem omg i can’t believe you picked up on that
Also this is so random but the way you write your comments is so nice its so poetic even though it’s just an as3 comment seriously if youve ever considered writing you really should because i would 10000% want to read anything you wrote!!
It freezes.
The screen refuses to move.
A loading screen pops up.
Frozen.
“No,” he hisses under his breath. “No, no.”
This cannot happen now.
His computer’s downloaded writing software, used for reports and other Shinra documents typically, is clearly open and in use. Except nothing on the screen is for Shinra, and most certainly not a mission report—the exact thing he is supposed to be working on.
His own fanfiction.
Shamefully written on the company’s computer.
The mere beginnings of a first chapter.
As if that is not shameful enough, it is a whole special trope, a unique type.
Self-insert. Or something close to it.
The characters are himself, Angeal, and Sephiroth. He is writing a story about himself and his two closest friends with the intent to post it online.
“No, no, no, no.” He rapidly hits the close button, more aggressive with each click. “This cannot be happening. No. No. No. Goddess, please spare me from such a humiliating—”
Genesis jumps when his office door is flung open. Scrambling to close the writing software tab, he barely acknowledges Angeal bursting through his door. “Don’t you know how to knock?!”
Why won’t this program close??
Angeal is carrying two cups of coffee and he just raises an eyebrow. “You’ve never cared if I knock,” Angeal says as he holds up a coffee as an explanation. “Also, I told you I was going to stop by. You asked for coffee. Remember?”
And all Genesis can focus on is the fact the writing software is frozen and his computer screen is simply a large document page with Angeal, Sephiroth, and himself as the characters of Loveless. He rapidly clicks the close button.
Angeal cannot see this.
He would be mortified. Genesis could never look into his eyes. He would have to leave Shinra, disappear into the wilderness where nobody could ever see him again. Disappear from all knowledge. Fake his own death.
Genesis stares.
The stupid writing software still isn’t closing. The loading circle spins slowly as if to mock him and the predicament he has found himself in.
“Yes,” he says slowly, trying to sound how he normally does. “I do remember.”
Angeal raises both eyebrows now. “Really?”
“Yes, of course.” Genesis clicks the button several more times. The loading symbol remains slowly spinning, mocking and cruel.
The words he had been gleefully writing only moments again stare back at him, mocking him with their existence.
“When do I forget anything?”
“How about all those times I reminded you to submit reports on time?”
Could he recruit a Turk to help him fake his death? Or destroy his computer? He would be alright with being in debt to a Turk to escape this situation.
“That was purposeful.”
“Sure, whatever you say, Rhapsodos.” Angeal is smiling now and he hates the cacophony of emotions it creates in him. He blames Angeal for this sudden wave of emotions that make his stomach queasy like he fell from a helicopter to the ground. Like the ground gave out from underneath his feet.
“What are you doing?”
Genesis freezes.
“Nothing. Just an old report.”
Do not look.
Do not look.
Genesis will have to fake his death.
Or organize his actual death.
“Is that the one you still haven’t done from the mission with Sephiroth a couple weeks ago?” Angeal shakes his head, disappointed. “You should’ve turned that in sooner. Lazard has been wondering about it. That man is stressed enough as it is.”
“I know, I know.” Genesis keeps clicking the close button.
It would be bad enough if Angeal read this, but if he read a scene of the three of them holding hands…
Genesis would rather perish than face that reality.
His office door opens again. He sees Sephiroth’s hair for a split second.
He chooses another more extreme option.
“So,” Lazard sighs, then adjusts his glasses before looking at Genesis, Sephiroth, and Angeal overtop of them. “You mean to tell me that my three best operatives somehow managed to…”
He looks down at the Facility Damage Report then back up at them with a look of hopelessness. “Explode Rhapsodos’s computer? Spontaneously?”
“Yes, sir.”
Lazard stares flatly at them. “Do I even want to ask how that’s possible?”
“Accidents happen,” Genesis says, hands positioned behind his back. “In this case, a materia malfunctioned I believe.”
Lazard looks to Angeal and Sephiroth. “Can you two confirm?”
“I walked in the room right as the explosion happened, sir,” Sephiroth says. “I didn’t clearly see what happened. But it seems the most likely explanation.”
“Hewley?”
If Angeal sells him out…
“I wasn’t sure what happened at that moment, sir. But it seems like materia malfunctioning is the most reasonable explanation. Everything was perfectly normal, then the door opened, and there was an explosion. Genesis’s computer was destroyed and part of his desk.” Angeal says, “He does sometimes keep strange materia in his drawers.”
Genesis shoots him a glare. That part was not necessary to mention.
Lazard sighs. “I don’t even want to know. Just file this report and I better not find out this is because you three were sparring again.”
“It really wasn’t, sir,” Angeal says, taking back the report. “Truthfully, I’m not sure what happened.”
And none of them will ever know the truth.
Genesis eyes Sephiroth across the table, as he eats his soup like he does. Unaware of Genesis’s turmoil and distress he cannot speak a word of without explaining the full context.
Even trying to imagine a scenario where he admits to writing fictional stories of the three of them as Loveless characters is impossible, not to even imagine explaining that he has plans to post them online.
Maybe this is a convoluted plan. But sometimes that is what is necessary to make an overall plan succeed.
“Sephiroth.”
He looks up. “If you want to spar, I doubt we will be easily able to convince Angeal to sneak into the VR room after the incident with the materia—”
“No.” Genesis puts down his fork. “I do not wish to discuss sparring.”
Sephiroth looks at him for a long minute, blinking slowly. “Alright? Then Loveless?”
Genesis considers this for a moment but decides it would be too close to the actual issue he wishes he could discuss. “No. I wanted to ask you something.”
Now Sephiroth slightly tilts his head to the side. “Yes?”
“You enjoy reading, do you not?”
Sephiroth has a half-smile, amused by the question. “Is this another attempt to get me to read and analyze Loveless with you?”
“Not exactly,” Genesis leans forward, his hands underneath his chin. “Think of it more as a…thought experiment. Not Loveless itself, but to read an analysis of it.”
“One of yours?”
For a moment he panics internally.
He must say no. Saying yes is as good as confessing that he has been writing these stories and that is what he has been trying to avoid.
“No, not mine.” Genesis says, waving a hand. “An interesting rendition and analysis I found online.”
“Ah, one of the analyses you found lurking in those discussion forums then.” Sephiroth no longer sounds so confused.
And he does not lurk. He posts frequently and leaves comments. He engages with the online Loveless community, thank you very much.
“Essentially, yes.” Genesis says, “I have been reading the weekly updates and I have found it a most interesting new way of viewing Loveless. I think you might like this version, I am very curious to hear your thoughts.”
Genesis adds, “It reads more like a fiction novel than the traditional telling of Loveless, thus it caught my eye for its creativity.”
“And you have been enjoying it?”
“That is to be decided.” He cannot seem too enthusiastic or else Sephiroth might realize that he is the author and he is not ready to have that conversation. Then he slaps the folder onto the table, Sephiroth’s eyes immediately land on it. Slowly, Genesis slides it across the table to him. Tempting.
“This is the first chapter.”
Sephiroth looks at the folder then back up at Genesis. “And what should I do? Read it, then tell you all my thoughts afterwards?”
“Well,” he says, like he hasn’t already been thinking about this for weeks. “I suppose if you wished, you could write your thoughts and comments so that you didn’t have to remember all of them. I am sure you will have insightful commentary. If you have anything you wish to share with the author, I can pass it along through the forum.”
Sephiroth picks up the folder, flipping it open. “The first chapter is fifty-eight pages?”
“The author is a bit…long-winded.” Genesis says, propping his head up with one hand, gesturing with the other one. “Though I think it works for this particular piece of writing.”
Sephiroth raises an eyebrow. “Now I’m curious. Normally, you only ask us to read or listen to your analysis. As you said, only your theories are correct.”
“Which is true, yes,” Genesis gestures at nothing in particular. “But I thought the execution of this version was noteworthy.”
Sephiroth opens the folder again, as if he is already reading the chapter.
“Excellent,” Genesis says as he stands. “I’m curious to hear your thoughts.”
Then he leaves the breakroom.
One down. One more to go.
Genesis waltzes into Angeal’s office, ignoring that the puppy is doing squats in the center of the room like the hyperactive child he is, leaning against the side of his desk. “Angeal.”
Angeal looks up at him. “Hello to you too?”
He holds out a folder, one with the first chapter of his story. The exact same one he gave to Sephiroth already. “I have a request.”
“Ooh, can I help?” Zackary Fair, the living embodiment of an overly excited puppy asks, still doing his weird squats with more enthusiasm than most people contain in their entire lives. “Is it a prank?”
“Why would I ask Angeal to help with a prank, stray?” Genesis rolls his eyes and then focuses on Angeal. “I have already asked Sephiroth but I also require your opinion as well.”
“Oh,” Angeal says as he takes the folder. “Is this a new Loveless analysis you’ve been working on?”
“Ugh,” the stray says, like this even concerns him. “Not Loveless again.”
“Just because a small-minded small-town boy such as yourself cannot comprehend the literary ingenuity of Loveless does not mean it's boring,” Genesis says, before looking back to Angeal. “But no, this is not mine. It’s a retelling of sorts, posted on the online discussion forum.”
Angeal opens the folder, looking down at it. “And do you want me to read this because you enjoy this retelling or because you want to be able to mock it and for me to understand what you’re talking about?”
Of course, Angeal would know to ask that.
He tries not to let it show that he’s happy about that. “So far I’m enjoying it. It’s creative, a unique idea of Loveless for once instead of the reused ideas over and over.”
“Gotcha,” Angeal says, nodding with understanding. “So it’s not just about ranting then. Sure,” Angeal says, picking up the folder and carefully setting it on his desk. “I’ll read it. I doubt my commentary will be that insightful, but I’ll try.”
“I will appreciate whatever you write—”
Across the room, Zack starts snickering for no reason. Genesis shoots him a look, a threatening one. Even though the stray is on his PHS, so he isn’t even looking. Probably looking at something his friends sent him.
And Genesis leaves Angeal’s office, grinning to nobody but himself.
His plan has worked. He has found perfect beta readers for his first fic and nobody will ever know.
All he needs to do is perfect his As3 account profile now.