Peaceful Return...Or Perhaps Not

[fallensamurai]

Sephiroth strode down the hall towards the library, having concluded the usual dull business that preceded the school year. Upon arrival, he found the substitute looking furious and several shelves toppled over. Did students have no respect for the printed word anymore? After he was apprised of the situation, he advised her to get ice for the bump she'd received earlier as well as making his assurances that everything would be put back in its proper place.

Once she had left, he set to lifting the shelves, an easy task for someone with his strength. Sorting and shelving the veritable sea of texts was another thing. Had he been the mad General of old, he would no doubt have hunted down those responsible and made certain that they died a very slow and agonizing death. That time was past however, and he only felt the barest shades of annoyance and disapproval at the actions of the perpetrators.

The shelves back in their proper place, he used both his arms and limited telekinetic ability to catalogue and lift the tomes back into place, barely having to glance at the titles as he did so. He'd long since memorized every piece of material within the library, a distinct advantage when one considered both the number of books and students that passed through it every single day.

[n]

Curling up in the corner of a library brought back half-remembered times that had never belonged to her, but Naminé treasured them anyway; little shards of memory that Kairi probably didn't recognize anymore as important. The interesting bit was that even if she were to return to the setting of these memories, even if she met the same people--even if she saw the same scene played out before her eyes, it wouldn't feel the same as those little shards. It was as if the forgotten fog hanging around the dark places was as much a part of the memory as the chains themselves, as hard as she tried to brush it aside and link them.

She looked up sharply, startled by the sound of a loud BAM and then the steady rumble of shelves caving, books thundering against the floor, with one of the teachers shouting in alarm. Naminé didn't move, only watched, and glanced anxiously at the shelves around her--but they weren't at an angle where they could hurt her and it looked like an isolated incident. Blinking, she watched in fascination as a silver-haired man in a teacher's uniform righted the shelves and sent the books soaring back into them with a look. How is he...? But she didn't ask. She was possibly the only witness, even if she hadn't actually seen what had caused it, but she didn't want to draw attention to herself. Naminé had already dealt with people far more powerful than herself and rarely came out of the situation unscathed, so she quickly returned her eyes to the pages and did her best to remain invisible.