Genesis's words tickle Sephiroth's lips. They are close enough to share breath. Genesis touches his arm, a soft touch, that of a lover. Sephiroth's heart shivers. His blood feels warm inside him.

"I said starting tomorrow, we'd pursue whatever this was," he says softly, not moving an inch. "And now it's tomorrow." A breath. "Which of us should give chase?" he asks, giving a small, wry smile.