To the tourists, Midgar was still 'The Floating City', though few of them stopped to question why. For the days of Midgar's two-plated existence was long over, and now, the city merely rested grudgingly on the ground just like every other respectable city. Shinra Building was gone; in its place stood a huge department store stretching all sixty-something floors to the sky (women's lingerie floors twelve through to twenty-six), and the new trains had specially designed windows so the awed Wutainese sightseer can better view the sixteen-feet billboards of scantily-dressed idols which lined the city's walls.

It was in one of Midgar's trains that Vincent and Storm were now seated, the latter being preoccupied by his dad's latest chart-topper musical hit, 'Wanna stroke my sword?', which was playing loudly from the train's speakers.

"So…remind me again where we're going?" Vincent was becoming more nervous by the minute from the combined force of the ill news he had just been delivered, and the sheer…sparkliness of Midgar city. Nothing was what he remembered. There were no more beggars or slummers, in their former places stood sleazy merchants with giant jackets and young girls whose skirts disappeared when they sat down. The friendly hum of machinery was gone. The weighty atmosphere he was so fond of had vanished. The price of hot-dogs had skyrocketed. The overwhelming cheeriness of the place made him feel sick to the stomach.

Storm Strife was not helping either. Currently, he had engaged himself in the delicate art of origami, a skill that attracted many an interested glance in their direction from the other passengers. His travel bag was open at his feet, which, Vincent soon discovered, was filled with nothing but colourful cranes, dogs and other assorted paper creatures. Perhaps Storm was prepared to make himself some paper underwear later, Vincent thought, as he had clearly packed no change of clothes.

"Like I said, we're going to Midgar University." Cloud's protégé 'answered', hands still folding precisely even as his eyes riveted on one of the girls sitting in the seat across from them, who belonged to the species of almost-non-existent-lower-garment-females previously mentioned.

"And…why are we going to Midgar University?" Asked Vincent, annoyed at the teenage boy's constant breach of Grice's conversational maxim of manner. Would it kill him to be unambiguous for once?

"Because Hojo's there."

"What's Hojo doing at an university?"

"Studying."

Vincent sighed, a sinking feeling starting to develop where his last lunch had been about two decades before. He was getting nowhere with this. Storm was obvious ungifted in the department of speech, besides perhaps when he had a 'bout of inspiration' alike the one that got them into this mess in the first place.

But seeing as this whole sorry affair concerned his old arch-foe, Vincent strived to make one last attempt at wringing information out of Storm.

"Is there anything else I need to know? About Aerith or about Hojo?"

Storm thought.

"Yeah. Hojo calls himself 'Joey' now. We get off here."

And, standing up, he presented the paper flower he had been folding to the surprised girl opposite him, and made for the exit.

-

Midgar University was an impressive building, built in a grudge-match between Midgar and Junon. Junon's Academy was ancient, and had decades of famous scholars backing its prestige. Midgar University, having only been established after Meteor, had artificial ivy crawing up its stony exterior and turned out exceptional party-goers year after year. Junon Academy produced soldiers and SOLDIERs alike, where Midgar University's Student Union was also an unstoppable fleet, especially when hackling other students (and sometimes lecturers) for protection money. Indeed, Midgar University matched up to its rival in every way possible, and even had some things Junon Uni did not. For example - a haunted set of stairs...

...and a tendency to attract the most eccentric of students.

But Storm and Vincent were not outside the university's main campus, Instead, they were standing across the street from a cute little two-storey terrace house.

"I suppose Hojo - or Joey - lives in there," Vincent sighed. "And until I meet him I won't understand what this 'unfinished past' business is?"

Storm nodded: "You're catching up, Valentine. Note this: the first person - the first - you encounter in the house will be Hojo reawakened. Underline: FIRST."

"Right. Should I knock or barge in?"

"Listen to your heart."

Vincent started to cross the road, but Storm caught the end of his cape.

"One last word. Joey...may...look a little different to the Hojo you remember."

Vincent didn't like the smirk that came onto Storm's pale face as he said this. Not one bit.

-

A pretty nothingy chapter. But now you know why the fic's called 'Joey'.