A/N Noa, back at it again with that SI bullshit, thanks to me streaming the entirety of Final Fantasy VII Remake on twitch! I'd like to thank Navi, Kinno, RinAstray, and Lyrecho for all contributing to this fic, because damn, did I want to write so much after finishing the game!

As usual, you can expect there to be memes, headcanons, and worldbuilding, so uhhh…keep that in mind.

Disclaimer for the whole story: I don't own Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake, or anything related to the Compilation of Final Fantasy VII.

All I own is whatever comes out of this fic, so have fun reading!

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There is something especially disorienting about waking up and finding yourself at a table, with a crayon in your hand. There are papers scattered around the surface of the table, each containing messy scribbles. Most of them are of flowers. Others are of trees and a blue sky. The paper right before me is of a starry night sky, still in the process of being drawn out.

My mind is in such a haze, that I can barely register the movement I make when I reach out for a blank sheet of paper. I can hear people talking about trivial things, but all of that goes over my head. Nothing wants to stick.

Looking around, I find myself in some sort of restaurant. People are eating and talking to each other as the time goes by. There is a young woman—a waitress—who goes from table to table, taking orders or serving people their food. She tries her hardest to keep up, smiling widely each time she's given a tip.

I had finished drawing another picture by the time the young woman stops by my table.

"What're you drawing, Sera?"

Who?

I tilted my head as I looked at her for a moment, my attention soon drifting over to the picture I was drawing.

I drew this?

It's can't tell anymore… Everything feels fuzzy, and it takes far too long for me to even realize what it is I'm drawing…or the fact that I'm still drawing with these tiny hands.

Tiny hands.

Far too tiny to be mine.

Are they even mine?

There's a distinct disconnect between me and every movement this body makes. It feels like I'm underwater, the sensation only growing stronger as the voices and scenery around me start to blur. I start to drift off…then that waitress ruffles my hair.

"Is that supposed to be us?" Her voice reaches me throughout the haze, causing my attention to shift back on her. She looks at me with green eyes that are just brimming with love. A warm smile from her causes warmth to bloom within my chest. Her voice keeps me grounded as she continues talking to me in such an affectionate manner.

Soon, my anxiety starts to fade into the background. The disconnect is still there, as is the panic I have towards my current situation. I have so many questions. So many concerns…but none of it matters—not now, at least.

For now, this is fine.

This haziness doesn't fade…it sticks around, even as the hours go by. Soon, it's been more than a week. The disconnect is still there, but not as strong as it was when I first woke up. Little by little, this body starts to feel like it's actually mine.

I don't speak much, but Mama doesn't seem to mind. Mama, by the way, is the waitress who's been caring for me. At the end of each day, when she's done with work, she grabs me by the hand and walks me home. She talks to me, usually checking if I'm listening to her. Otherwise, she never expects a response…

Not unlike that young man that drops by every so often while Mama and I are at the restaurant. He always looks so tired, with bags underneath his eyes. Usually, he sits down at my table, asking me questions that I don't exactly answer. Though, that doesn't stop me from drawing him pictures, using the crayons he's gifted me.

"Ohhh…you're picking up letters now." The young man smiles at me when I hold up my sorry-ass attempted at a, "Thank you." "Little young, but you've certainly got the drive."

I don't know what he means by that, but he talks to Mama as soon as she's on her break. I'm not that good of a listener, so I'm not sure what it is that he's saying to her. However, I have an idea what it could be, when he brings out the flash cards the next day.

"These are numbers." I can see that…but I guess to him, they're new to me. So I play along.

Not like I have anything better to do.

The weeks soon turn into months, and after about six of them, I finally get a good grasp of my surroundings. Mama and I…we live in the slums. Every day, she works as a waitress—from morning to evening, with few breaks in between. She's good at her job, with a boss that's lenient enough to let her take me to work with her each day.

The young man that sits at my table is a regular at this restaurant, for as long as Mama has been working here, at least. That's what I hear from the other customers whenever they see Mama and him talking. Once in a while, there are curious customers who want to know who my father is.

"Who knows?" Mama never gives a direct answer. It's a secret that she'll likely take with her to the grave.

"Who even cares?" says another regular, far too tired from a day's worth of work to deal with any of the questions the others ask Mama. "She's got Ashe—that should be good enough. Now leave the poor girl alone."

Ashe, by the way, is the name of the young, freckle-faced man that sits at my table. He's a bit older than Mama, with green eyes and short, gray hair. Unlike Mama, he doesn't have a job, so he's always looking for work, even if it's only temporary. He never has much luck, and often, he spends most of his time with Mama and me.

Unsurprisingly, it's Mama who finally suggests that she hire him as my babysitter.

"The two of you get along!" Mama reasoned with a smile on her face. "It'd do her some good if she got to spend more time outside of that restaurant, too. And best of all—you're getting paid!"

It took some time to convince Ashe to accept, as he felt that it was too sudden. Eventually, he comes around, deciding that Mama had made her point. He comes by the restaurant in the morning to pick me up, taking me by the hand as he led me through this strange, underground path. It is through this path that we arrive at a playground, where other children are playing.

"Run along and play, Sera." He gave me a gentle nudge, which was enough to get me moving.

The other children don't pay me much attention—not yet at least. It's only a matter of time, after all, with how curious children get. Though, for the time being, I'm left alone. There was a swing set, currently being used by a boy and a girl. A group of boys were challenging each other to see how fast it took them to get across a miniature obstacle course made out of tires. A couple of girls were playing in the sandbox by a slide, talking about trivial things that wouldn't make any sense to adults.

They all look so peaceful, despite how much the adults around them worry about the future. They worry about having enough to eat, about work, about…everything. The way the air is tainted with smog, the way the sky is barely visible. The way everything is so rundown, right here in the slums.

I should be twenty-four…I was supposed to turn twenty-five next month. Instead, I'm here, shoved into the body of a child who can't be any older than two or three.

Everywhere I look, nothing clicks—it's all too unfamiliar to me. Each step I take is so unsteady without a hand to hold onto mine. My eyes move from left to right, taking in the new sights before me. To think that such a place could exist within the slums…

Maybe that's why Ashe brought me here.

Maybe.

Ashe sits at a bench with the rest of the adults, keeping a close eye over every movement I make. When he notices that I'm staring, he directs my attention towards a slide by the sandbox. Not many children are going down it, more content to sit on top of it and take in the sights the height gives them.

It's such a curious slide, made to look like a cartoony cat's head. The slide comes out of its mouth, like a long tongue. It's strange…but also kind of cute.

I was never a fan of slides, due to the way I was always afraid of getting shocked after going down one. And yet, that didn't keep me from going down a couple of times. By the seventh time, I found myself crashing through sandcastle the girls had built at the bottom of the slide. Neither of them is angry at me. Instead, they only laugh as they helped me stand up.

The two girls are older than me—likely twin sisters, based off of how similar they looked. They talk to me for a bit, mostly asking me if I'm fine. I only nod my head, not knowing what else to say…if I could say anything at all.

"Are you from Sector 7?" one of the twins asked me.

Sector…7?

There's something familiar about that name… I don't know what it is, but that feeling only grows stronger as I finally take a good look at the slide I've been going down.

I know this slide…

I'm not sure why it's taken this long for me to notice. For the first time since I've woken up, something starts to click. It happens all too suddenly, in a way that's overwhelming.

This isn't real…

It's not supposed to be real…but it is. So here I am, standing in a playground that I've only seen in a video game I haven't touched in years.

"Are you okay?!" the other twin asked, having noticed the tears sliding down my face.

I don't know what it is about this, but for once, I finally feel so tethered to this body. I can feel everything all at once, in a way that's so unsettling as this strong wave of emotions washes over me. I can feel the wind on my face, brushing my skin in a way that makes it prickle. I can feel every layer of clothing covering my skin, the fabric almost scraping me with each movement I make.

I want to scream, want to…cry. Want to…want to…!

I want to go home.

This isn't home—it's not even the same universe. Where I'm at…isn't even supposed to exist. It's all fictional, and yet…here I am. I'm in the playground near the Sector 7 entrance, an area that should only exists in the world of Final Fantasy VII.

It's okay.

It's okay.

It's okay.

It's not okay.

Calm, calm, calm…

You should remain calm.

You shouldn't cry.

I can't help it—it's just too much. And so, for the first time in seven months, I finally hear my voice. It's so unfamiliar to me, that it catches me by surprise when I start sobbing.

Is that supposed to be me?

Is that supposed to be my voice?

The fact that it sounds nothing like the voice I had only makes me cry even louder. It feels like I lost something important…something that I can't exactly put into words. There is still a haze that clouds my head, preventing me from accessing memories I know I should have.

What was I doing before all of this?

I can barely even remember…I just know that I'm not supposed to be here.

It's going to be fine.

You're alive.

That's right—I'm alive.

Should I be alive?

Deep down, there's this terrible feeling that's just bubbling in the pit of my stomach. It makes me want to vomit as I consider asking myself whether or not I'm meant to be alive. There's a part of me that disagrees, while another part wholeheartedly agrees.

Whatever it is, there's not much that can be done about it. I'm already here, so that's that. There's nothing to be done about something that is completely out of my control.

All I can do right now, is hold on tightly as Ashe scoops me up into his arms. He whispers soothing words he's likely heard from Mama, telling me that everything is going to be alright, even though there are memories I have of the plate being dropped on Sector 7.

People are going to die.

And there's not much that can be done about it, due to the circumstances behind it.

That's not true.

You have time.

Maybe I do…but I can't exactly say for sure until I figure out where I am on the timeline. If I'm lucky, then I have just enough time to prepare. If not…

If not…

Then I can always find a way to escape. There was a commotion on the day the plate was dropped, so as long as I have that as a warning…

You'll be fine.

Yeah…I guess I will.

"I'm sorry—I should've waited a little longer before taking you to the park." Ashe is apologetic as ever, feeling guilty for making me cry, even though it wasn't his fault. "It must've been sudden, right? To be around so many kids at once… I'm sorry."

We've long since return to Sector 7, having gone through the underground passage yet again. By now, I have calmed down considerably—just enough that I can actually find my voice.

"'s not your fault." It still surprises me just how young and childish my voice sounds.

It even catches Ashe by surprise, having never heard me speak until today.

"You…" Ashe places his hand on my head, his fingers soon stroking my hair. "I'll take you back to your mother. It's almost lunchtime anyways…"

"We're in Midgar…yeah?" I don't know why I asked, when I already knew the answer. Maybe a part of me was still in denial…

"Yeah…that's right." And yet, that doesn't stop me from feeling relieved when Ashe answers my question. It helps that he's doing his best to keep me calm, but even then, my emotions are just so out of control. I can't make any sense of them.

Could be worse.

I'd rather not find out what worse is, so for the time being, I pretend that nothing's wrong. That I haven't been shoved into the body of a child that lives in the Sector 7 slums. That I'm in a game that I haven't touched in years.

So much for playing Remake.

Kind of regret not playing the original to pass the time before Remake dropped. I also regret ignoring Remake in favor of Persona 5 Royal, even though the game was RIGHT in my bag. Could've made my situation just a little less unnerving…then again, I haven't touched Crisis Core in years either. Geez, just what's going to happen now?

What even is the future?

I have a somewhat vague recollection of it, but none of it matters as I'm not exactly Cloud Strife. Most of what I can do or say is limited by the fact that I'm likely some random NPC that exists to die once the Sector 7 plate is dropped. I'd prefer not to think too much about it, but it's hard when you've grown attached to your new mother and the people you see around her each day.

There's the kind landlady who only accepts whatever Mama can pay her. There's the owner of the restaurant who, while stern, is actually a nice guy to his regulars and employees. There's the delivery boy who drops by at the end of each day with Mama's groceries, always making sure to add in a small treat for me. And of course, there's Ashe, who is still a new face around the Sector 7 slums. He doesn't live anywhere near us, but I've certainly heard Mama talking to a few of the regulars that she's considering asking him to move in.

I hope he says yes. It'd be nice if Ashe could live with us, even if there's not much room in that apartment. With him around, Mama wouldn't have to worry about me in the mornings, each time she wakes up to get ready for work.

Of course, I don't expect him to accept all too easily. In fact, neither does Mama when she asks him as soon as we arrive at the restaurant.

"You're always so shy!" Mama grinned as she tapped Ashe right on the nose.

"Has…has Sera always been this chatty?" Ashe averted his gaze, trying his best to change the subject. A pink flush spread over his face, his embarrassment quite visible for everyone to see.

"Hmm…in her own way." Mama reached out to ruffle my hair. "But I bet you're finally relieved to hear her voice, huh?"

"Y-Yeah…" Ashe has always been trying to get me to talk. I could never figure out why, but I guess he was just checking if I needed any help. "You were right, Lanette…we just had to wait and see."

You know, for all the time I've spent in this world, I don't think I've ever heard anyone say Mama's name.

So it's Lanette…

That's a cute name. I feel like this isn't the first time anyone's used Mama's name, but it's the first time, for me, that I've been aware enough to actually hear it for myself.

"Lanette…" I find myself repeating.

"Yes—that's Mama's name!" Mama smiles. "And you're Sera."

"Sera." I've heard it many times, but only now, is it finally sinking in. It's not that bad of a name, it's just…jarring. It's not anything similar to the name I left behind. And there's nothing to it, besides the new life I've been given. "Seeeeraaaaa."

I still don't know what happened that got me into this situation. All I know is that I've been given this chance. How I use it could very well determine the outcome of the future. Or maybe it might not matter at all.

You won't know until you try.

I guess my first goal is checking just where I am on the timeline. My memory isn't the best, but from what I can still remember, I think it's enough to get me through most of the problems I'll have to deal with.

In the meantime, I guess I'll just enjoy whatever calm there is at the moment. I watch as my mother teases Ashe, asking if he's sure that he doesn't want to move in with us.

"I already told Marle about it—it's fine!" Lanette reassured him, her finger ever so teasingly poking at his cheek.

"It's inappropriate!" Ashe sputtered, the pink blush on his face soon deepening into a red. "We're not even…!"

"Then marry me!" Lanette chirped, her smile only growing even wider.

Ashe didn't give an answer after that. He averted his gaze, too embarrassed to even look Lanette in the eye. I patted him on the head, but all that got out of him were a few murmurs that I couldn't quite make out.

Hang in there, Ashe.

With the way things are, it's only a matter of time before Ashe becomes part of our family.

Family…

That sounds…nice.

I miss my old family.

I hope they're doing okay without me around to help them through the quarantine. It sucks, but…at least they still have my siblings.

I hope they make it through the pandemic.

It's strange being able to go outside again, and just talk to people. No social distancing—just good old-fashioned socialization. It's almost overwhelming, not having to wear a face mask when going out of the house. Sure, the slums aren't the best place around to raise a child, but…this is fine. Mama knows what she's doing…

At least, I think she knows what she's doing. If not, then Ashe is there to pick up the slack. He's already introducing me to this world's writing system, which is…certainly strange, but nothing I can't handle.

And yet, I still can't seem to write my name…

I feels like I got nerfed to hell and back when I got shoved into this body. Though my brain might recognize what I'm being taught, this body is having a hard time accommodating to it on a physical level. Math, at the least, is still the same no matter where I go. The only thing weird about it is the introduction of gil as means of helping me through the lessons that Ashe teaches me. I mean, the concept itself isn't weird, it's just…the coins.

Man, that's gonna be a bitch to carry around.

The days go by without much concern, and soon, I've made friends with the twins I met in the park. Their names are Kira and Mira, and they live further into the Sector 7 slums. Being older than me, they're allowed to wander off within a certain distance. I, on the other hand, am somewhat tethered to Ashe's side.

"Three is still too young," he reasoned with me.

"How about four?" I asked.

"Five—I'll give you until you're five." Ashe patted me on the head. "Now run along and play. Just don't wander off too far, yeah?"

"Yeah." Geez, it kinda sucks being young again.

It's a lot better when we're in the park, because there's only so much you can do in the Sector 7 slums. I mean, you can play with the stray cats, you can talk to the shop owners, or you can even help pick up the trash that's littering the ground. Sounds boring, but on a good day, you can find some interesting stuff…like a knife!

"No!" And that knife got quickly confiscated by Ashe.

Boo.

Kira, Mira, and I got lectured for like half an hour after that, because we're not supposed to touch dangerous things, like weapons and whatnot. That still won't stop the twins from doing things in their own time, away from the prying eyes of adults.

Though, sometimes, on days when the twins have all the time in the world to kill, Kira and Mira join me during my lessons with Ashe. They're all too eager to learn, and with good reason. Here in the slums, it's a lot harder to get an education without the right amount of money for a teacher. And teachers can get pretty pricy…

Which is why Ashe ends up providing a service to the children of the slums for only fifteen gil a lesson. Fifteen gil doesn't seem like a lot, but it's certainly affordable for parents who are hard-pressed for money. Depending on the day, Ashe even gives out discounts.

It's a slow, and steady progress, but Ashe doesn't seem to mind, if only for the fact that it gives him something else to do, besides caring for me. The other kids seem to like him well enough to not give him any hell…besides the occasional prank here and there.

By the end of the month, most of the children know Ashe as "Teacher", and not one of the adults bother to correct them, even though Ashe certainly does. Hell, the adults have been jokingly calling him, "Professor."

Lanette was the one who puts the final nail in the coffin by saying, "It's cute!"

Ashe buried his face in the palms of his hands, somewhat exasperated by the people around him. I patted him on the head, feeling somewhat sorry for him…somewhat. It's honestly kind of funny.

"I don't know how such a brilliant mind like yours got blacklisted from Shinra." The comment I hear from one of the restaurant's customers catches me by surprise.

Blacklisted?

"It's why you shouldn't go against them in any way," another customer reasoned. "That's why you should always keep your guard up. They get you when you least expect it."

I don't know the details about it, but it seemed to be a touchy subject for Ashe, based on the way he refused to speak after that. Even Lanette changed her mood, to the point she offered Ashe a place to stay for the night. For once, Ashe actually accepts.

And I think that's all it really took for Ashe to start seriously considering moving in with us.

"Well, well, well—the Professor finally accepts the lady's offer." Ashe does his best to avoid making any eye contact with Marle, the elderly woman who owns the apartment we live at. She has long, light gray hair that she ties into a fluffy bunch behind her head and stands rather tall for someone of her age. She usually has something to say, depending on her mood. For the time being, she is mostly intrigued with Ashe's sudden change of heart. "Are you going to finally put a ring on it?"

"N…Not yet…" Ashe's face burns a bright red when Lanette suddenly pecks him on the cheek. "Ahh…!"

"And with that, you've officially become Sera's Papa!" It's funny how Lanette has managed to turn someone like Ashe into a stammering mess.

I still don't know who my father is—my biological one, I mean. My real father has always been Ashe, the one guy who's stuck around Lanette when she was pregnant with me. It's just taken him this long to accept it, which is why he doesn't correct me when I start calling him, "Papa."

"Yeah…that's me." He sighed in exasperation. He is somewhat tired, but mostly content. "Is there anything you want to eat?"

"Hmmm…" I furrowed my brows in thought. "Something sweet!"

I haven't had the chance to eat that many sweets, due to our current circumstances making it difficult. It's like really expensive to get anything like pastries and whatnot. It's more efficient to buy actual food instead. That's just the way it is, here in the slums.

And yet, that doesn't stop Ashe from returning home one evening, carrying a beautifully wrapped box in his hands. He gives it to me, ruffling my hair as he tells me, "Happy birthday."

"Birthday?" That's today?

"Oh right—you're four now!" Lanette lets out a weary laugh, very much exhausted with today's overtime. "Happy birthday, honey!"

"Four." So that's how old I am…

"Open your gift!" Lanette urges me, very much curious to see what it is that Ashe got me.

Carefully, I unwrapped the box and opened it. Inside the box was a colorful array of macarons that made my eyes go wide. It's been such a long time since I've actually had a macaron. I was a senior in high school when I first had my chance at actually trying one when I visited France during spring break. It was expensive, but well-worth the price.

…but that was back then, in a life far different from this one. Whatever money Ashe had to have spent on this was a lot more than what Lanette is comfortable with, base on the way she was lightly scolding him for being so careless.

"Really, you shouldn't have…" She frowned.

"It was my decision and…it's not like I'm going to make it a habit." Ashe scratched the back of his head, small beads of sweat rolling down the sides of his face. "I just…wanted to do something special for her, since it's her first birthday with me around as her father."

"Oh, Ashe…" Lanette reached out to pat him on the head. "You're really sweet…just don't go overboard next time."

"It's fine—I still have some money left over." Ashe could be quite stubborn when he wanted to be. "Besides, they're not just for Sera…they're also for you."

As if on cue, I held the box out for Lanette to see. "Have one, Mama!"

"O-Oh…" Lanette does not know what to say, but she takes a macaron anyways. "I never…had one before."

"Then I hope you like them as much as I do." Ashe smiled.

"You want one too, Papa?" I'm not eating any until everyone's had one. This shit's hard to come by, so I really want to make the most of these by also sharing them with the people I love most. You'd think I'd be a little selfish, but no…I've pretty much outgrown that aspect of myself around these two dorks, if only to make their lives a little easier.

"It's fine," Ashe tried to reassure me, but I wasn't having any.

"Have one or I won't eat!" It's funny how fast Ashe accepts my offer after that.

We ate most of the macarons that evening, leaving a few to give to Marle the next morning. I was the one who suggested it, since Marle deserved it for helping us. Marle responded by ruffling my hair.

"Never change, Sera." I'll try not to, Marle.

I'm still scared for the future, but for the time being, it's easy to just live in the moment. It's easy to get lost in all the fun that happens when Ashe tries to teach more than five children at a time. It only grows even more hectic when a rambunctious boy with bright, red hair and tanned skin runs up to Ashe and introduces himself.

His name is Johnny and he wanted to be friends with me, because he saw me playing with the twins the other day.

"You don't have to ask me." Ashe sighed. "Ask Sera—it's all up to her."

"Okay—Sera!" Johnny turned his attention to me. "Can we be friends? I think you have pretty eyes!"

"Oh…thanks." I feel like I should know who this boy is, but nothing wants to click. "I guess we can be friends."

"Great!" Johnny gave me a thumbs-up. "Mom! Guess what?! I made a friend!"

It later hits me, like a fucking truck crashing into a wall, that Johnny is that red-haired dude who had a crush on Tifa. And while Tifa isn't around just yet in the Sector 7 slums, this is as good of a confirmation as I can get on such a short notice. Now that I have a good idea of where I am on the timeline, I can plan ahead for the future.

There's a lot that I have to deal with…but for now, I'm just glad to know that I have enough time.

I can get through this.

…

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A/N Hey y'all, how's quarantine going? It's going good for me—at least, enough that I started up yet another fanfic!

Yeah, I have no regrets. Let me be, during these trying times please. I know I have other fics I need to work on, but just let me have this one. This idea kicked me in the face while I was streaming Final Fantasy VII Remake with the friends. By now, I have already beaten this game, and am waiting for the next installment.

That being said, our SI, Sera, has no fucking clue about the situation regarding Remake, because she still thinks it's too much like the PS1 version, when, SPOILERS—it's a stealth sequel!

Yeahhhh…and even if it wasn't for that, she still thinks she's in the PS1 version, so like…it'll be a while before she can figure things out. Until then, she's just worrying about the plate drop in the future. Kinda hard not to when you live in the Sector 7 slums.

She's still young, too, so don't expect her to do much just yet. Give her some time. She's got a lot to deal with in her future, hence the title of this fic, because expect her to mess around from time to time.

Anyways, just to clear things up, Sera has always been an SI. It's just that she's been dormant for a while, since like…I'd assume that, with the lifestream being a thing and whatnot, it'd mess with anyone who was reincarnated into the world of Final Fantasy VII. So that's why it starts here, when she's three, and not when she's born.

As for another thing I should mention, I didn't start playing Final Fantasy VII until April 12th, like two days after I picked up my physical copy at GameStop. So for two days, the case stayed in my bag while I was playing Persona 5 Royal, because shit happened due to the whole COVID-19 quarantine, so I had to wait until I got my preorder in the mail to play the game. As soon as I started playing Remake, I couldn't stop and just kept going and going, until I finished the game. And that's where this fic comes in.

I hope y'all are ready for whatever shenanigans comes out of this fic. I will say that the ending to Remake completely floored me, because I was already in the process of making a self-insert. The ending just gave me even more fuel to write fanfic.

By the by, I drew the cover for this fic, which will give you an idea of what to expect from Sera when she's older. I'm really happy with how it turned out, especially since it pretty much officialized this fic's existence. It's one thing talking about it with friends, but it's certainly another when I've sat down to actually draw the damn thing.

That's all I have for now, so if you have any questions, feel free to ask me in a review! Otherwise, don't be shy! I always crave that validation—it really does motivate me, yeah?

Until next time, everyone! KD out! XD