I hope the remake is living up to everyone's expectations, because I am absolutely blown away. Thank you, Squeenix.

I don't own anything, anyone or anywhere you recognise. Sapphire, along with a few others who'll crop up every now and then, are mine.

Also big thanks to my postie, who delivered it six days early. That was a good day. As were all the days since.

But biggest thanks to the folks who left reviews at the end of Anxious, Worn Out and With a Bad Concussion (man, I'm glad I won't be writing out that mouthful much more) and who answered the poll on my profile. I presume there might be a little overlap there, so double thanks if there is! I've been scribbling away and while it's a big fuzzy work in progress right now, I'm rolling with it. Hope it'll be worth the wait!

For any newcomers, Chasing Dreams is a sequel to my previous story, featuring my OC Sapphire Amell once again in the leading role (the attention hog). You might be able to get away without reading it, but I'll be jumping right in here so context will be a bit of an issue. That said, I started writing it in mid-high school, and it's bound to have some serious cringe. Poorly written cringe, as opposed to my more recent, slightly-less-poorly written cringe. If you can put up with it, you should probably read it (there's over 200k words, you've been warned of what you're in for, but you're self-isolating so you have time!). If it's super bad, try skipping a few chapters, or skim until like...the epilogue or something, I don't even know xD

Chapter 1 - Go

"Just…shush. Just shut up. Just stop, please."

I gently banged my forehead against the glass, a dull thud echoing in my ears. The glass juddered at the contact. My right hand, pressed against the glass as it was, felt the vibration. I wondered idly how easily it would break.

The more time that passed, the more I felt tempted to find out, because I was losing my mind. "Seriously, there's no need for that."

I folded my arms in front of me, agitated when my words seemed to have no effect. Maybe I should speak louder?

"Please, stop! You can't keep this up. What's wrong? Tell me about it," I demanded, going for sympathetic but aware of just how forceful I sounded. "You'd be surprised how much a friendly ear can help. We can take it in turns?"

I waited quietly for a few moments, with no change. I turned one-eighty degrees and rested my back against the glass. Something occurred to me then, prompting a frown.

"Wait, are you asleep?" I pondered more softly. "Are you having a nightmare? They must be serious. I've never really had nightmares, actually. Only dreams."

I smiled fondly at that. The dreams I had…

"Maybe I have an overactive imagination, I dunno. But I think it's good to have dreams. I'm kinda stuck, so I'm not very active physically, I guess I just kinda…float here. But I dream. And that passes the time, I suppose. Not much else going on."

I looked around and raised my hands in a gesture to the surroundings.

"I think the only activity that goes on around here is on a microscopic level. And that activity isn't very interesting. Not that I can tell, not really. I get bored too quickly to see any real change. And then I just kinda lose interest, and I daydream a little."

Still no change. I sighed, letting my head fall backwards to rest against the glass.

"You're breaking my heart over here. What can I do? Do I need to yell?" I contemplated, twisting and facing forward once again. "OI!" I hollered. The glass shuddered slightly.

A change! Silence followed my shout. A victorious grin took over my face.

"You can hear me then? Hey! Hey!"

…no, it resumed. Well that was disappointing. Deflated, I turned to put my shoulder against the front of the glass, frown replacing my grin.

"I dunno what to do, though. I'd like to help, but it doesn't seem like you can hear me. Or maybe you're just…really deeply asleep, and I can't wake you. I don't think I can really yell any louder than that. If I could get outta here and leave it intact I would, give you a shake." I sighed again, resigned. "I wish I knew if you could hear me. I wonder if my voice would be soothing, over a nightmare. Or maybe it'd just be annoying."

I paused, thinking that over.

"Well, if it was annoying, you'd probably wake up and tell me to shush, so maybe that's the way to go." I smiled, then looked skywards. "What should I talk about?"

I was definitely speaking to myself at this point, but I couldn't help the slight disappointment when I got no response to my question. My mind only went to one place, and prompted a small smile.

"When I was a kid, like before all this, I'd get these dreams. You ever heard of déjà vu? It's this feeling you get when something happens and you just know you've experienced it all before. It can be anything, even some really mundane conversation, but everything about it you remember happening already, every single detail. And then it goes away, and you say you just felt déjà vu, and they sorta laugh because you're all buzzed from it but it doesn't mean anything, not really, not to them.

"I guess my dreams were kinda similar, they'd be like the first occurrence of it, the one you swear you remember as it happens again. Except I knew it was a dream, and when I'd wake up, it'd be all I could think about; when I'd encounter it again, how I could make it happen…of course, it eased after a while, but it'd still be on my mind a little.

"I guess it slipped my mind, but the last one I had, it was a long time ago. And I don't think it's gonna happen. I think my life has kinda diverged a lot since then. I'm okay with that, but I still remember it. I was sitting at a campsite, it was night-time, and I was on a treasure hunt. My, uh, companion? He was asleep, and…I felt guilty, because he was only there for me, and I had put him in danger, lots of times. I wasn't good enough to protect myself yet, and he was…well, he was babysitting me, really. And I thought it'd be better to leave him behind, complete my journey without burdening him further.

"It was a stupid thing to consider really, and even stupider to think I could have left him without him knowing like that. If he was sleeping, he was sleeping pretty lightly, that's for sure. He yelled at me for a while. If there was anything that guy could do, he could use his words. I'm still here because you need me here, that's what he said. I don't think I could have taken off after that. Makes it seem like he's there at great inconvenience, so to do anything further to cause disruption would make all that a wasted effort. And, I dunno…I didn't want him to look at me and see wasted effort, I guess."

I looked down at my hands, which were bare. Veins stood out beneath the pale skin, almost glowing, but it was hard to tell.

"Though I think that ship has sailed. He mentored me for SOLDIER, and then I just…took off. I think he understood. I wonder if that's why he kinda stopped, in the last few weeks. I've wondered about that a lot." I laughed quietly at my last confession, shaking my head.

I wondered how pitiful that was. I bet he would have been very smug to know about that.

"I didn't even say goodbye to him. I just wrote him a note. You know whenever you're leaving somewhere, and you have those goodbyes with people, where you both know you're never gonna see or speak to each other again but you don't say it? It's all 'don't be a stranger!' and 'come back and visit anytime!' and big hugs, and it just feels kinda fake, like, why not just be real about it? 'Thanks for being kinda cool, maybe I'll bump into you in a few years and that'd be kinda nice.' Not that hard."

I stopped talking for a moment, because I had forgotten my original point. Oh wait, yeah.

"I kinda did that though, in the note. I said like I'd be looking out for him. It felt weird to write that, because I don't think we were really that close, and I didn't really think I'd see him again. I mean, he was a SOLDIER, and I was kinda fleeing SOLDIER, so it wouldn't have made sense. I didn't even tell him about how I'd lied, so he definitely wouldn't have felt like we were close.

"But, if we had bumped into each other, a few years down the line, it would've been kinda nice." I spoke wistfully, knowing that he probably wouldn't feel the same. "I mean, I would feel that way, until he started yelling at me. Or he pretended like he didn't know me, or didn't care. I don't know what he'd do, but I'd deserve it. And, honestly, I'd welcome it. I deserve my comeuppance from him. All I did was waste his time." I laughed again, under my breath, and shook my head. "I don't know why he bothered."

I could feel my cheeks warming as I thought about what had followed my escape.

"How long has it been? He's been off living his life, being a hero, and forgot all about me. Maybe he took on another student. I hope he gave them a better time than he gave me. I hope they rewarded his effort, unlike me. And I'm here, and I just kinda…dream a little."

I looked up, and breathed out heavily, chuckling and biting my lower lip.

"Okay, maybe I dream a lot. But what else can I do? I need an outlet somehow. And it's harmless, I just…" I trailed off, wondering why I was even still talking. Nothing was different. But it was the first time in a long time that I felt free enough to speak my mind. "Maybe it's stupid. But I just think about what my life could have been, if I had stayed. And I started to really understand him, the way he spoke and did things, I started to really believe that he cared."

My overactive imagination had seen me into the SOLDIER Program. And as I spoke my dreams aloud, they became more solidified within me, as though they had already happened, and equally felt so farfetched and honestly embarrassing. That of all possible futures I could imagine, I chose to dream of one where I stayed with Shinra.

"Zack and I were always pitted against each other," I recalled, or imagined, fondly. "Angeal was always so good to him, like he was good to everyone, but they just had this incredible relationship. Zack idolised him, and Angeal just couldn't be prouder. Angeal was so good and supportive of me as well, like even when he found out my secret, he was okay with me not coming clean straight away.

"Well, he wasn't," I laughed my correction a moment later, "but he understood, even while he kinda prompted me once or twice to own up to it. And then, later, I did."

That had been a tricky dream to recall. I had dreamt it so many times, that each word spoken should've been emblazoned in my memory, but it was so hazy. It was like every time I dreamed about it, it was different. Like an improvisation show with several takes, each telling a different joke or punchline just to figure out which one landed the best.

"I know that I didn't say Angeal already knew, because I think that would have really hurt him. That should've been between him and Angeal, it wasn't my place, I think. I didn't want to come between them, since they were so tight. I think he took it with that pseudo-calm exterior, you know? When he's so angry that his voice goes really soft, and he just asks these carefully-worded questions, like he's assessing just how angry he should be.

"Probably the worst bit was that I had left it so late to tell him. Angeal found out like a few months after I became a Third Class, so it was actually a couple years later that Genesis found out, I was in Second Class then. Of course he would've been angry. But how do you just say something like that, on a regular day? I know that's no excuse, though. But it would have been better than him finding out on his own, I think. Maybe I should have just said so sometime."

Yeah, sure. And how would that have gone?

"Yeah, probably not," I laughed, and sighed, facing forward again. "This really isn't helping, huh?"

I bowed my head, sighing deeply.

"Maybe I've just been talking this much to try and distract myself, because I can't really help you. Well, I can," I corrected, resting my forehead against the glass and looking out, at the root of my dilemma, "but I don't really know how to without kinda messing myself up."

I lightly rapped my knuckles against the glass.

"I'm a little bit stuck in here after all. And sure I can probably bust out, but then I won't be able to get back in," I frowned. "I don't think that'd be very good."

Usual response. My frown fell deeper.

"Oh well," I dismissed my concerns with a shrug. Putting both hands against either side of the tube to secure myself, I threw my right foot forward.

It didn't shatter, or anything else spectacular. The whole front section of the tube simply detached, and fell forward, the pressure of the slightly viscous liquid pushing it forward and rushing out onto the dismal, concrete floor. My grasp on the sides kept me from rushing out with it, and when it was empty, I cautiously stepped out, and coughed in the stale air, as I got to grips with breathing free air again.

"Felt like it'd take more than that," I admitted sheepishly, clearing my throat, before I jogged forward to the coffin that lay opposite. The desperate moaning coming from within had me working fast. Putting my hands under the lid, I pulled, with no success. "Seriously, it's locked?" I exclaimed in surprise, spotting the keyhole on one side of the lid of the coffin. Well, any wonder the guy was groaning, stuck in there like that.

I crouched, ready to pull the lid with greater force (I was sure I could break off the lid) when the groaning abruptly stopped. "Please," came a deep, gravelly voice, which took me by surprise, "leave."

"What?" The word slipped out completely on instinct, too startled by the request, and fell onto my backside as I let go of the coffin lid.

"I must remain here, in this place. I have not yet atoned for my sins."

My eyebrows came together at that. "I don't understand," I spoke hesitantly.

"You don't need to understand. You just need to leave."

My mouth fell into a straight line, reluctantly impressed with that sharp retort. "Right. Well I'm not leaving so you might as well go ahead and try to explain it to me." Resolute, I pulled my knees up to my chin and folded my arms together around them.

The not-very-dead man in the coffin didn't respond.

"Or, I can take the lid off and we can talk face to face," I continued cheerfully with an empty threat. "Your choice."

A deep sigh came from the coffin, so laden it was as though I was the greatest burden he had ever encountered. He, who stayed in a locked coffin to 'atone for his sins', this guy. "Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why do you insist?"

I mulled over what the answer to that question was for a few moments. "Because talking about it helps."

"I do not want help." His reply was more or less immediate. "Please leave."

"But I can't leave you here like this," I protested.

"I do not want help," he reiterated, more sharply this time.

"We don't always get what we want," I threw back.

"And you want to help."

He was far too quick with these comebacks. It took me a few moments to get his meaning, and when I did I groaned aloud. I looked down at my hands over my knees, the blood vessels beneath glowing ominously in the dark, making the pale skin look even paler.

"Leave me to my rest," the man concluded, voice rumbling a dismissal. I gazed at the coffin in disappointment, not at all pleased with the thought of leaving the burdened man, but he wasn't the only one who needed help.

After all, I had busted out of my own coffin, with no means of returning to it. Well, I could hop back inside, but there was no means of refilling the tank with the precious substance I had let spread out onto the floor, which was already seeping into the cracks and vanishing from sight. I was out for good.

My dark blue SOLDIER uniform was drenched and heavy with the stuff, though it was starting to run off and pool around the black boots I wore, a faintly glowing green puddle in the dark. Worrying my bottom lip, I contemplated what I should do.

It seemed like this guy would be no help, and a quick glance around confirmed that there was nothing here of use; a few other coffins, thankfully also with lids on which I had no intentions of removing, and that was about it. Mako withdrawal was bad enough with medicines and sedatives and an actual bed at my disposal, I didn't fancy it in some damp, dingy room with nothing but coffins. A bit too much foreshadowing for my liking.

I left the room, a wooden door in the brick wall, and was startled to find myself in a desolate cavern in even worse shape than the coffin room. At least it had been mostly brick and concrete, manmade, but this was just sheer rock. Buzzing lanterns were strewn along the cavern walls, casting a soft yellow light.

Drip. Drip.

The vision of a hero in a red coat, a silhouette sauntering through a hole in the wall made for my rescue. The recollection fled my mind as quick as it arrived, but it was clear as if it had happened yesterday.

I fondly smiled, despite that it ought to have been a traumatic memory - he had been coming to my rescue when I had been kidnapped, after all. My rescue hadn't taken very long to arrive by any measure.

Rather unlike this time. My smile turned wistful at the thought. Maybe I was held captive a little longer this time, but at least my rescue was my own doing.

I approached the bottom of a ladder, presuming it to be the way out. I almost felt bad, because I had been moved down here only a short while ago. Had it even been a week? There was no real way to tell. But if this ladder was the only way down, man, that would've been no easy task. It was open at the bottom, with the cavern ceiling being several feet above, but there was only a small hole carved out of the rock where the ladder led, only big enough for one person at a time.

Climbing the ladder, I found myself giggling as I tried to imagine how they had transported me down. That guy with the really obnoxious attitude, he was the only one who had any real bulk to him, maybe he had descended the ladder with me slung over his shoulders? Maybe they had just lowered me down with a rope? They couldn't have dropped me, I was sure I'd still feel the aches from a drop this great even if it was days later.

Ascending through the close tunnel to greater open space, I looked over my shoulder to examine the area. It looked like some construction work had been done here, more like the coffin room. The rocky ceiling was even higher above this area, the lanterns again draped along the walls, but there were concrete staircases leading around the area, metal railings along the staircases and around a crater in the centre of the large room.

It looked like there had been ongoing work here, but it was stopped, and had been abandoned. The atmosphere was eerie, to say the least. Where even was this? Obviously it was exclusively for Shinra's use, or perhaps only for the illicit deeds of the Science Research Division and its head. Between myself and the fun fellow I had left in his coffin, it didn't seem like the kind of place regular people would have access to.

Maybe this was a graveyard for failed experiments. Now there was a cheery thought. I wondered why I was put inside my home-away-from-home capsule instead of inside a coffin like the rest. I wasn't optimistic enough to think those others were empty.

To my left was a flight of stairs, and when a quick glance around the rest of the room didn't reveal any other obvious route, I started to ascend. Upwards seemed a good direction to go anyway, with caves like this.

The top of the staircase was impossible to see in the dark, so I was careful with my footing on each step. I had been travelling slowly anyway; it had been a while since I had autonomy, and was able to move around outside of a tube. I supposed it was a mix of adrenaline and the residual mako in my system that was keeping me going. I had half expected my legs to just give way under my weight when I busted the capsule open, so any progress after that was just a bonus, as far as I was concerned.

My eyes had adjusted to the encroaching darkness before any great length of time passed, enabling me to see ahead to the brick wall at the top of the staircase. I almost fell back down the stairs in shock, but continued on anyway. No way could a staircase like this just end. There must be a hidden door.

Though why the door would need to be hidden on the secret underground cave side, I had no idea.

If I found a way to open a door up here, and it led to something even worse than what I'd already seen - something I didn't even want to picture, because frankly an underground cavern that held coffins for Hojo's failed experiments was plenty bad enough - then I'd probably just go back and hang out with Mr Life-Of-The-Party until I succumbed to mako withdrawal and eventually died.

So, hoping for the next room to be better. Or more of the same, I'd even settle for that.

By some hefty stroke of luck, my approach prompted a heavy rumble in the wall ahead. I had hoped as such; this appeared to be the only exit or entrance, and they wouldn't want any of their people to get stuck down here by accident. I hadn't expected it to just open without any sort of credentials or keys though.

The light that shone through the slowly widening crack in the wall dazzled me, and it took a few moments for my tightly-shut eyes to recover enough to continue. Stone stairs turned to old wooden floorboards, and I gazed about myself in amazement. It was…quaint. Even homely. Great, high ceilings with unremarkable wallpaper and boring paintings on each wall, one window letting in sunlight behind white lace curtains. Wooden bookcases and furniture probably decades old and covered with a layer of dust, though still near-perfect condition, and a huge, well-worn, unattractive rug covering most of the floor.

I was impressed most by the fact that the air felt even more stale and musty than it had below ground. I bet if I picked up that rug and beat it, an entire hurricane of dust would assault me. Ugh.

The stone door rumbled back into place in the rounded wall behind me, not even hidden or a thing, to which I shrugged and glanced out the window. Whatever building this was, it looked like it had been built at the bottom of a cliff or rock wall, so with the sun shining down over the top, it must've been close to midday.

There were a couple of trees planted just outside as well, and I was glad for the perspective. The tippy tops of them were above the level I was on, but not by much, and they were adult trees by the look of them. Meant I was at least one, maybe two floors up from the ground. And this was a proper building! A big, grand building, all decorated and real, with a cave for a basement with Gaia-knows-what all down there. It would've been unbelievable if it wasn't…well, believable.

If the last…how long had it been? I had no idea. But since I was first, let's say 'retrieved', my eyes had been pretty well opened to what Shinra was capable of. And a grand, isolated building containing some kind of crazy underground cave as a closet for their skeletons (figuratively and literally) wasn't that great a stretch, if I was being honest.

As I left through the wooden door, the most bizarre sense of familiarity settled over me. But when would I ever have been inside this building? The feeling made my slow steps even more hesitant, increasingly aware of the loud echoing taps of my booted feet on the wooden floor. There was another door opposite, perhaps to another defunct study, or a bedroom. Or maybe behind that door was some more secret passages and coffins and things, each option seemed equally likely.

I decided against that door, and headed for the open hallway, treading softly even though I couldn't hear a sound other than my footsteps. There was such an eerie stillness about the place, everything untouched for so long, that had me on edge and just wanting to get out.

A left turn brought the memories rushing back, as I tiptoed onto a wooden balcony of a grand foyer that had seen better days. Huge classical windows illuminated the dust mites floating through the air, and I gazed at them in disbelief.

A mischievous grin—

The feeling of dangling from a hand fisted at the front of my Cadet turtleneck—

Clinging to a leather-bound arm—

Wind whistling in my ears as I fell—

Another recollection that should've been unpleasant, but instead brought a smile to my face. At least now I understood why it was so familiar.

He had brought me to this place, by way of the Virtual Training Room, in a training lesson which had devolved into a game of cat and mouse, and had ended in the cat tossing the mouse out through one of those gigantic windows. I would never admit it, but that had been far more fun than it had any right to be, considering how terrified I had been as he had pursued me, with a single-minded determination.

I was glad that I had only been brought here to be abandoned. If I had been stuck here while they continued their experiments, their poking and prodding, that memory might have been well and truly soiled. As it was, I bounded down the staircases with a spring in my step, and the cheerful hope of having better luck with the front doors today than I had back then.

The doors were unlocked, and I emerged onto a paved walkway, shaking my head in disbelief as I closed the doors behind me. "Unbelievable," I murmured to myself with a breathless laugh.

With a deep breath of the clean, countryside air as I made my way towards the iron gates separating me from freedom, reality soon had me frowning again. Not about the gates so much; they didn't look like they had any chains or locks on them, and even if they were electronically locked, the wall looked low enough that I could throw myself over it without tremendous difficulty. No, it was with my longer gait, more comfortable in the outside, it was hard not to notice a distinct stiffness in my joints. A lethargy that was unmistakable. And now that I had noticed it, I felt the beginnings of a headache behind my eyes. I rubbed at them sternly, as though that would cut off the developing migraine, and carried on walking, with fervour.

It was one thing to decide to stay in the coffin room and succumb there, with the only comfort being the security of no unknown people being around (I didn't think the man in the coffin would pay any attention to anything I'd do). I could be sure that I would not be taken advantage of or harmed while in my weakened state, with only the possibility of the scientists showing up and returning me to my capsule. Let it appear to be an accident, and return to the status quo.

But when I committed myself to leaving, I did it to get as far away as possible. Far enough away that they mightn't find me. I even had the slightest hope that I could stumble across some well-meaning stranger and they could look after me, even if that was far too optimistic.

I was thinking a few miles, depending on where the nearest refuge was, and if there was none, find somewhere I could easily hide. I was not thinking I'd give up directly outside the building. As far as great escapes go, that was just a poor show.

It felt like each step was getting burdened with an extra few pounds as I continued, but I made it to the gate anyway, and sure enough, I was able to slip out between them with no sign of a lock.

Where even was this? The sheer rock walls that surrounded the building - a large, extravagant manor house - had me stumped. All my experience was in small villages on the desolate plains outside Midgar, and the exotic forests of Mideel. I don't travel enough.

A breeze had me folding my arms together to brace against the chill, bones creaking and muscles twinging disapprovingly as I did so. That sunlight was so strong, but that breeze had me thinking it was still early morning. I assumed it was around early spring time, when there was no snow, and no frost on the patches of grass on the trail leading away from the manor.

The thought had me frowning. I had been taken in mid-December. It was hard to believe so much time had passed.

I wasn't sure how long I marched for or how far I had gone, because I was aware enough to know that my steps were shortening and slowing down. Eventually I came to a downward staircase, the rock walls close either side of it. This part of the trail had certainly been manmade, to connect different parts of the trail together and make room for civilisation.

Ever the optimist, I let myself hope that meant people were close, real people, and it spurred me onwards, taking the steps carefully, one at a time. After all, why would so much work have been done to alter the natural terrain if there weren't people? There had to be.

It was a long staircase, and each step almost seemed to take longer than the last, my joints stiffening and aching as I went. But by no small stroke of luck, the staircase gently curved around, and at the base of the staircase, I could see buildings. Small, homey, villagey buildings. Cottages and things. A tiny little town or village, built into the middle of a canyon, obviously with copious amounts of work gone into carving out the location to best suit its inhabitants.

My vision was darkening at the corners, and my other senses were getting gradually dulled, but I was aware enough to recognise that there was life in this town. Unfortunately, the inevitable happened. Whether it was due in part to the sudden rush of relief I felt was anyone's guess, but with that rush of relief came a rush of blood straight to my head.

With a pounding headache and the feeling of teetering on lead feet, the thought occurred that I should sit down. With painful slowness, I crouched, reached a hand backwards to steady myself, and with a great exhale I allowed my muscles to loosen; it blew me away how tense every part of my body felt, like an elastic band being stretched far beyond its limits, taut and ready to snap.

I leaned my head and shoulder against the rock wall on my left, having been hobbling down with my hand against it to balance, and almost immediately and without my consent, my eyes slid shut. It was like they had weights tied to them. No matter how hard I tried to open them again, because falling asleep on a staircase didn't seem like my brightest idea (even if I was now sitting), there was no strength left in me to lift either eyelid even a millimetre.

"…go get help, go!"

Rushing footsteps, alarmed voices.

"…with SOLDIER, look…"

"Is she…?"

"No, she's alive." That one was close.

"What's wrong with her?"

"What even happened?"

"…she come from?"

"That doesn't matter right now, she's sick!"

"…wrong with her? She…"

"…spare bed…"

"Run ahead, warn…"

"…get her moved, grab her legs…"

"Wow, she's heavy!"

My eyes sprung open almost by themselves when my feet were hefted into the air by a firm grip on my ankles. They stayed open for only fractions of a second. My vision was so blurry I couldn't process anything I was seeing, so it did nothing except make me feel dizzier.

"Whoa!"

"Go back home, kid."

"…from Shinra Manor?" A gasp. "She's the one who's been groaning!"

"Where's your mom?"

Mumbling.

"Go find her."

"Aww…"

My awareness was really starting to slip at this point, between the pounding in my head and the roaring in my ears. I struggled to concentrate on the few voices that surrounded me, trying to make sense of what was being said. Plus, I couldn't remember the last time I felt so tired.

Muffled voices grated my eardrums like loud static, as I let myself slip away, to where I was most content.

…

"I don't know whether you recall," His voice lilted, a sound pleasing to the ear, "but you are lacking in one particular area in which a SOLDIER shouldn't."

"Oh, I recall," I assured grimly, my mouth in a straight line, arms folded defensively in front of me.

"How fortunate then, that I excel in this area," he continued. The mischievous smirk he wore suggested he felt that fact was more fortunate for him than for me. "With that being said…"

He trailed off, and alarmed, I looked up at him. His eyes were cast to the side, obscured by thick strands of auburn. I waited in curious silence, uncertain, because I had never known the man to be hesitant with his words.

There was remorse wearing down his usual self-assuredness when he continued, "I would prefer if you didn't over-exert yourself. Materia can do a great many things, it can heal and harm, and that is not constrained to the target of the spell."

How sombre. "And here I thought your thing was letting me do the wrong thing first, then telling me exactly how big of a moron I am," I dead-panned, eyebrows raised.

He met my eye then, startling me in the heaviness of his gaze, as though something had been eating away at him. "I did that once already," he spoke soberly, but then suddenly clapped his hands together, the action warding away the unusual downbeat moment. "So! Take your pick. Might I recommend a Fire Materia?"

I propped my hands on my hips and pouted, eager to play along with his segue into the familiar shallow end of our metaphorical swimming pool of interactions. "You warn me that they have the potential to be extra destructive, then recommend an element synonymous with destruction?"

He shrugged carelessly, a small smile on his face that unconsciously spurred one of my own. "It was only a suggestion," he defended innocently, examining the magical glowing stones nestled comfortably in their cushioned box on the table.

My eyes rolled at his statement, before holding out one gloved hand in his direction. "As my tutor commands," I sighed exaggeratedly.

"How unusual," he observed, with a wider smile and a wicked twinkle in his eye. "I think I prefer you when you're being rebellious." He comfortably tossed and caught the brightly glowing crystal, before firmly pressing it into the palm of my hand with three fingers.

A little flustered, I accepted the Materia he handed me with a bowed head, and retorted the slightly derivative, "Wish I could say the same for you." It didn't feel like the right response, though it felt significantly better than just letting his last statement just hang there.

"So callous," he lamented, though he didn't sound terribly distraught. In fact, if I didn't know any better, I would have thought he was teasing. I didn't focus on that though; because I was holding a weapon capable of mass destruction in the palm of my hand.

There was silence for a few moments, and I could feel those bright blue eyes rooted to my position. I didn't look at him, my eyes firmly fixed on the crystal, which glowed softly, eerily.

"It's not going to eat you," he mocked with a raised eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest with a creaking of leather. Obviously standing stock still wasn't part of his lesson plan today.

"So, what do you want me to do?" I asked, imitating haughtiness as much as I could with my tone, but still didn't look up from the sphere in my hand.

Seconds passed, and when I glanced up tentatively, a crimson sword was arcing through the air—

Fisting the Materia into a white-knuckled grip, I leapt to one side, missing the sweeping sword by inches. Regaining my balance and composure, I threw my teacher a glare, who looked far too smug for my liking.

"Better than I expected," he patronised as he straightened up from his crouch.

I huffed exasperatedly. "This isn't going to be another instance of you chasing me all around a weird old mansion again, is it?" I cast my mind back to faded rugs, light catching on floating dust particles and grand stately windows three times taller than me—

A shiver rushed down my spine, an unfamiliar ominousness to the sensation. With hunched shoulders, I twisted to look over my shoulder, where a draft must have come from, but no, nothing there. What was that?

His voice addressed me, faintly as though a great distance away, "Amell." I pivoted to gaze at him, or rather in his direction. His head was tilted downwards, face cast into shadow. A new heaviness in the atmosphere settled over us and for fear of meeting his eye, I bowed my head repentantly and stared at his boots. "I figured it out."

"Y-you did?" The words came unbidden, the slightest stammer sounding oddly rehearsed, like I'd been through all of this before.

Any number of biting, sarcastic responses should've been thrown back at such a waste of words. He disliked when people spoke and yet added nothing of value to a conversation. I did too, and so I cringed, waiting for my tutor to murder me with his own words, which were never wasteful.

I would gracefully accept my verbal battering though, because I deserved it. But more to the point, I would accept it gratefully, because any harsh words he could throw my way weren't punishment. They weren't the worst thing he could do.

I felt his eyes on me, burning, and I could do nothing but bury my chin further into my chest, perhaps leaving an indentation. And then I didn't anymore, and with a heaviness in my chest, I watched his boots swivel to face the opposite direction and take a slow step, then another.

Stubbornly and with gritted teeth, I squeezed my watering eyes shut. It didn't stem the flow, instead forcing the tears out all the quicker.

Please…shout at me. Tell me I'd regret the day I first laid eyes on you, stumbling into your friend's office the way I did. Demand coldly what I have to do to make it up to you. Insult me with all those words I don't even know the meaning of, ones I can't even figure out with context.

Actually…screw that. I don't deserve that.

My eyes sprung open. I glared up at his retreating back, and called out with a voice stronger than I felt, "You can go, if that's what you want. But you can't tell me not to go with you."