Genesis turns and there you are again; small, wide-eyed, trailing after him like a shadow, unbothered by his scowl or the sharp warnings he’s thrown your way in the past and even today. Genesis never meant to pick up a stray. Especially not one from the grimy narrow alleyways of the slums below the plate. But it’s the way you look at him that finally gets to him—not with fear, not with expectation, but with the quiet, stubborn belief that he won’t just leave you behind.

With a heavy sigh, Genesis crouches down, meeting your gaze head-on. “You really don’t give up, do you, brat?” His voice is sharp, but the anger is missing. He watches as your face lights up, and something in his chest twinges. Genesis clicks his tongue, already regretting this. “Fine. Get over here before I change my mind. We’re going back.” How he’ll explain this to Angeal and Sephiroth, he has no idea.