Sephiroth had spent the day watching you slip through corridors like a ghost that refused to be caught. Your footsteps faded the moment he turned his head. Your presence vanished the second he reached for it. It made something tight coil in his chest, something unfamiliar and unwelcome.

Usually he wouldn't care. He didn't have the time to. But it was you.

He had even asked Angeal in a tone far too casual to be natural but Angeal only blinked at him, confused and offered no answer that soothed the ache of uncertainty.

Hours passed. Sephiroth tried to focus on training, on anything except the question that refused to leave him.

Why are you avoiding him?

When he finally found you, you were slipping out of the mess hall, shoulders low, pace quiet. He moved before he could think. A gloved hand caught your wrist, his body closing the distance with the rigid precision of a soldier who had reached the end of his patience.

He pressed you back against the wall, not harsh, only firm enough that escape was no longer possible. He tried his best to hide the tremble in his fingers as he braced one hand beside your head.

"Why are you avoiding me."

There was a flicker in his eyes, a mix of fear and frustration that he did not know how to name. He searched your face as if he could tear the truth straight from your silence.

"Are you sick? Did I do something wrong?"

The questions left him quickly, his composure slipping around the edges. He was Sephiroth, brilliant, powerful, this and that but right now? Completely helpless in the shadow of your absence.