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It really couldn’t be that difficult. He was a highly trained, genetically superior general in a corporation that owned the world in all but name and all these other people milling around, staring at him like he had forgotten Halloween was over weeks ago, did it all the time.

So why was it so damn *hard*?!

Sephiroth stared at the machine in front of him. It seemed to mock his failure with its deviously complicated buttons and knobs and his hand – the one that wasn’t overloaded by sweaty, smelly, dirty clothes – itched to draw Masamune and run it through.

The normal Midgar citizen trying to use the laundromat and sorely unprepared for two meters of silver haired mental instability in their midst, all huddled behind their machines and prayed for a quick spin cycle and a quiet centrifuge.

A knocking sound made Sephiroth wake up from his reveries of machine murder and frown at the large, slightly foggy storefront window. A familiar spikey hair made it easy to figure out its bearer, despite the condensation and the fact that Zack had all but pressed his face flat against the glass which made him look even slightly more that usually like a porcupine.

The young man had a look of wide eyed surprise even though his mouth was pressed to the glass in what was assumed to be an amusing facial expression but which fell flat in front of a flat green stare.

The squished nose and cheeks were cute, though.

Sephiroth steeled himself even more as Zack scrambled around the window to come barging in through the door. The appearance of yet another supersoldier did nothing to lessen the worry on the faces around them.

“I am trying to get my clothes clean,” Sephiroth said before the inevitable and inane question could be called into existence.

Zack just stared at him, and then the rather run down laundromat facilities around them, complete with mildew in the corners and the smell of soggy socks.

“Yeah, but….why?” Zack looked at the heap of dirty leather in his hands. “ShinRa takes care of that, you know.”

“There was an…accident.” Sephiroth said stiffly, trying to hide his leathers. “One I rather did not come to ShinRa attention.”

An unholy parade of emotions wandered over Zack’s face, the young man’s expressions so clear even Sephiroth could understand them. It started with a frown, then a sudden burst of inspiration, slight panic, and ended in a very poorly disguised smirk.

Sephiroth sighed. Of course Zack would think it was something...sexual.

“It’s apple juice. Banora White Apple juice. Wipe that crude grin off your face this instant, soldier.”

“Oh! Oh. Oh?” Again, the parade of emotions, this time ending up in confusion. Despite the annoyance of it all, Sephiroth felt himself relax slightly. He had enormous troubles with reading faces, but Zack was like a walking emoticon. He found himself actually explaining the situation.

“Angeal, Genesis and I were…playing in the training room. I had an apple on my head. Angeal threw his sword to see if he could hit it. And when he did, well….the mess was all over me. And ShinRa would not like such…frivolous activities, so I thought it best to hide the evidence.”

“And now your super soldier super plan is foiled by a washing machine.” Zack grinned, but without a trace of cruelty. Sephiroth’s shoulders sank another inch. “Don’t worry, I got you. Had to hide some, uh, embarrassing stains myself occasionally.”

Together they managed to figure out how to wash leather and where to pour detergent and soon enough the bulky clothes were clonking around in water.

“So,” Zack leaned back on a bench, watching the laundry. “Wanna go grab some food while we wait?”

Sephiroth’s shoulders almost hit his ears when the anxiety from mere mentioning going out around people he didn’t know hit again. His belly however rumbled traitorously.

“We can wait until we get back to the ShinRa canteen.” He said stiffly.

“We *can* but we could also go get us something greasy and unhealthy and tasty.” Zack tugged his arm a little, like a puppy wanting to play with a sock. “Come on. I’ll find you a nice dark corner and treat you to a burger. You wont have to do anything but eat. Promise.”

He really shouldn’t. This illicit trip to cover up past transgressions was bad enough but…..

“I’ll come with you.” He heard himself say.

The food was awful. Horrible. Full of grease and artificial flavors and sugar and everything else Zack had promised.

It was the single most amazing thing he’d ever eaten and somehow it seemed to sooth him almost as much as Zack’s presence did.

“Comfort food,” Zack grinned between obscenely large bites of his own food and Sephiroth had to agree that it was indeed the perfect name for it.

They strolled back to the laundromat, Zack keeping himself unobtrusively close to Sephiroth and between the general and everyone else. Like a huge walking wall of protection between strange glances and whispered words thrown his way.
Sephiroth felt himself smile like he never did outside the training room with Angeal and Genesis.

His clothes were done by the time they got back and he loaded them up in his arms, inclining his head to the younger man.

“Thank you. For today. Your assistance has been invaluable.”

Zack grinned. Sephiroth smiled back.

“No sweat. I’m heading back to ShinRa now anyway. Want some company?”

It shouldn’t be so easy to say yes to Zack, but there he was, bouncing on his heels like an eager puppy, his mere prescence so comforting and he *knew* things. Things like comfort food and laundromat. Things normal people knew. Things Sephiroth didn’t know.

“Yes.” He said, a strange emotion shifting inside him that he had no word for, something stronger than his friendship with Angeal and Genesis or his loyalty to ShinRa. “I would appreciate the company.”