The Crown Fruit Parlor is quite dressed up today, decorated with streamers and balloons all about. There's a generous amount of beautifully wrapped gifts stacked in the corner, but the pièce de resistance is in the centre of the store -- a large, three-layered birthday cake. It's mainly white, accented with pink icing along the edges -- a cartoon-ish bunny head poking out from the top of it.

"Can I open my eyes yet??" Usagi's at the entrance of the parlor, her hands over her eyes. Words cannot express how badly she wants to peek and see what all the fuss is about; but she promised that she wouldn't until her friends said it was all right to look.

When she hears a grand... Surprise! in unison she removes her hands, her eyes lighting up at the celebratory surroundings. Happy Birthday, Usagi-chan!

He knows, when he's awake, that it's impossible. He'll never have children. For a variety of reasons. He's devoted to his work. He has no time. Physiologically, due to his altered genes and the radiation treatments, he is unable to father children. Even if he could, with medical assistance, would he want to? Wouldn't any children he fathered belong to ShinRa as well?

What would become of such children? Would they grow wings and fly away? The idea isn't as far-fetched as it should be, considering what had happened to his friends. Why would he want children in a world like this?

But he's dreaming now. In dreams, he can have another life. He's dressed in plain clothes, black pants and a white dress shirt, standing in a a room, in a house. An ordinary house. It's not in Midgar, but somewhere else, far away. He can look through the window and see trees. The curtains are wide open, and sunlight pours in through them, and he knows, somehow, that this is "home". His home. With the certainty of a dreamer, who can believe impossible things, he knows that his family lives here. His children. There are pictures of them on the wall. Their possessions can be seen here and there, and some of the books on the shelves are theirs--not his own dry volumes about science and military history. He stands there for a while, not doing anything in particular, quiet and distantly content as he takes in this place, this existence, becomes accustomed to it.

He doesn't stir until hears a sound behind him. There someone here with him. He turns and smiles at them, a casual, fond smile for someone he sees almost every day of his life. "Hello." He asks a simple question. "How was your day?"


[[OOC: Anyone is welcome to be one of Sephiroth's "kids". (Relatives or spouses of any gender to talk about family are also welcome, if you prefer.) Feel free to age characters down, if you like, but grown up kids are also fine. Prose or action spam both welcome; I'll match you.]]