There was no way they were going to let Sephiroth near any one of those rooms at least until all of this had blown over enough to be almost forgotten about. It was too early to tell what the lasting consequences on his reputation might be, but at least with Vincent supervising, the on-duty orderly had agreed for him to be allowed a look in; if only from the doorway itself.

A goodbye. Some closure, for now, though his heart shook at the prospect that it might be forever.

His right arm was slung tightly in a v-shape against his chest, the bandage there around half of his upper torso for support as much as it was to promote healing. Silver hair freely flowing around shoulders as he strode slowly, with every step being carefully measured, barefoot down the hallway before coming to the same doorway that Ales had. The nervous looks from the guards not met; it seemed from the way he kept his gaze averted almost as if he were trying not to acknowledge them.

It was OK to hurt, or so others kept telling him.