He finds a sheet of paper with enough room to write. Sephiroth's handwriting is neat and crisp:

I hope I tended these accordingly and thank you for your help after I was taken by the phantasms. True hell is despair; do not let it cloud your heart, my friend.

- Sephiroth

He leaves the remaining weapons cleaned and wrapped and the vials sorted as best he could tell. The books are closed but with markers in the places to which they were opened; papers stacked neatly.

He's a bit of a clean freak.