Okay, so I was at dinner with my family when I started wondering if I wanted to include Sephiroth into my Kingdom Hearts/Naruto crossover When Darkness Turns to Light. Then, I was inspired to write this! Took me a total of . . . three days, I believe :D Many thanks to my friend Ace, who helped me keep my facts straight for this (I've only seen Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children, never played the game) and to all who read this! Particularly, to those that review ;) This is my first creation completely outside of Naruto that I've written a fanfic, for, so I'm excited! I hope you enjoy!
-::{Frostbite}::-
The skies were blackened with somber clouds, crackling with unsounded thunder as they formed overhead. A woman showed eyes full of scorn as she crouched on her blade stuck into the wall of a ruined building. She searched as her long, dark brown locks fell in front of her shoulders, disturbed by the wind.
Her small blade, much like a cleaver that extended to a point, was pulled from the building by a red-bandaged handle, indented through a hole in the blade, and her black-gloved hand. As gravity called her, she took the blade and sheathed it sideways against the small of her back. At one point, just before the fourth row of windows, she kicked off of the wall and sailed over until she was on the corner of a ruined structure.
Dark umber eyes followed her head's turns, seeing nothing or noone in the ruins around her. She was slender and petite, with modest curves. A toned mid-section displayed itself between crisp black shorts and an off-the-shoulder black top cut above her naval and passed her elbows. Long legs were partly covered by knee-high boots colored white; the belt holding her shorts up was the same color.
She threw her head back and shouted into the sky, "Sephiroth!"
Her voice echoed in the area, but she was otherwise met with silence. That is, until someone rose up from behind a building, facing her posterior.
He was one with long, silvern hair, reaching passed his haunches in the back. His hair in front parted over his face, brushing against him down to his waist. A lot of his chest was exposed, but two leather straps crossed over it. Armored shoulder pads covered a black coat. A single black wing protruded from his back.
"You called?" he smirked with cold, reptilian eyes and an evil smile. The woman turned toward him and leered. She did not speak, but grabbed the double-bladed naginata from her back-sheathe and jumped toward him. It twirled above her head, like a helicopter's rotors, and she brought down one of the blades; he lifted his hand and summoned his long sword masumane just as her weapon would have hit him.
The brunette scoffed and used the meeting of their blades as leverage so that she could push herself and vault away from him; she flipped in the air and landed toward his left, a ways down the building. She was on one knee, but stood and ran toward him again, releasing a war cry.
Sephiroth swung his blade at her; even at a distance from him, she had to pull out her cleaver and hold it out with her left hand so that masumane could not slice her. Sparks flew as she continued to run with their blades skimming and screaming against each other. In her right hand, she held the naginata with a strong grip at her side, waiting until she was a few steps in front of him to raise it—
But before the blade could meet flesh, he was in the air, ascending beyond her reach. She glared after him, gritting her teeth as her weapons stayed down at her sides.
"Autumn . . . you don't look happy to see me," he teased.
She sneered angrily. "Ya think?"
"Ohh, you're touchy today. Much like that night. Though I remember you being quite feely, too."
Red heat flushed Autumn's cheeks. "Don't you dare bring that up to me! That was before you destroyed Nibelheim . . . just how evil you are!"
On either thigh, she had holsters strapped by leather. She put away her cleaver and took out a shurikon. Her hand glowed with a green energy and that shurikon erupted into flame. She threw it at Sephiroth. "Now, I'm making it my personal responsibility to dispose of you!"
He easily dodged it, but also took his sword and knocked it back to her. "Is that so?"
She gave a minuscule grunt as she pushed away from the building to another fallen one. This one was long, ramping up toward where her adversary hovered. The structure appeared extremely unstable, with cracks in its walls, shattered windows, and shards of glass. Unfortunately, that was also a true observation.
Autumn had her eyes set on Sephiroth, and did not notice when the wall began to further crack from her weight, due to its current fragility. Soon, it crumbled beneath her feet, and she fell onto a tall mound of rubble.
She gasped and cursed. The sharp pains erupting on various places along her back made her release her weapons, so they tumbled down the pile of pieces to the scratched-up tile. In the morning—should she end up so lucky as to exist that long—she knew she would be one big bruise.
Slowly, she moved, trying to pick herself up. Above the hole, she could see Sephiroth, hovering above the opening.
Autumn laid in her room, on a twin-sized bed, beneath her sheets, with her eyes closed. She appeared to be asleep.
Night's thick blanket encased the outside atmosphere, darkening the scene. Some light showed itself through holes in the blanket, or rather the burning spheres of gas distanced from the planet.
The light came into her room specifically through a glass door that led onto a balcony and a few windows. Silence made everything deathly still, but even with the lack of excitement, she found herself opening her eyes moments later, wide awake and having had no sleep as of yet.
She did not know what kept her awake that night, but it was a positive occurrence; so she had believed then. At present, she would claim the opposite. It was that night, during which she had no sleep to dream, that she met with the infamous Sephiroth.
Back then, she had only heard part of his story, and what she knew swelled her heart with sympathy. In their first meeting, she had treated him quite kindly.
If the scene had not been so silent, she certainly would not have heard it; the light sound of boots contacting the cement outside on her balcony. She turned over and sat up, letting her sheets fall to uncover a pink spaghetti-strap tank top.
Tentatively, she pulled the cover from on top of her, revealing small shorts matching the pigment of her tank top as she turned her body to let her legs hang over the bed. Her bare feet touched the cold, wooden-paneling of the floor.
Autumn stood up and crept toward the door, looking through its translucence. She saw the back of a man with silvern long hair: Sephiroth, sans the wing. Heat rushed to flood her visage and other portions of her body as she hesitated.
She was frozen in place. What was Sephiroth doing on her balcony, of all places to be?
Beneath her chest, her heart was straining against the walls of its cavity. Cottonmouth was a mildly noted threat as she tiptoed toward the glass, but was not very serious, even when she arrived at the door, unlocked it, and slid it open.
Sephiroth turned toward her, alerted to her presence by the sound of the door's opening. The expression on his face was evil. In the time after she had learned the rest of his story, she wondered why that look right there had not given her a clue. Her ignorance had been a true bliss, one known solely by the obtuse.
Momentarily, Autumn felt her courage falter, but stayed where she stood. She stared at him with wide eyes, appearing both unsullied and somewhat fearful, and rigidly kept herself in place by having one hand on either side of the door way. The gentle blow of the midnight breeze disturbed their features.
"You're the one they call 'Sephiroth,' aren't you?" she asked lightly. "Yes . . . I can tell from the amount of hate in your eyes. You resent the method of your creation . . . and Shinra . . . everyone, and everything."
Her hands slid down the door pane as she took a few steps outside; they came to her sides when she ventured too far to touch. Sephiroth watched her every step until she stopped a few feet in front of him."Jenova cells injected into you while you were still a fetus in the womb . . . who could blame you for being angry? But . . . is hatred all that you can harbor?"
He seemed to find some amusement in her words; not necessarily the words themselves, but that they were being vocalized in with such notions of pity. It greatly amused him, too, the infinite extent of her sincerity pertaining that sympathy. He sneered and snickered.
Apparently, she misunderstood the reason for his laughter, since she smiled at him, gently narrowing her eyes. Rosy hues still mingled on the surface of her cheeks. "I guess not. That's good." Closer, she walked to him, steady as she treaded.
She proceeded with caution, gazing into his eyes. Amongst all of that abhorrence, animosity, and anger, there were small, subtle, gossamer veils of despondency. Steps before him, she hesitated, but took a single more, tentative step.
The soft pads of her fingertips caressed his forehead, gingerly pushing a strand of his hair from his face. Underneath her fingertips, his brow was tight, due to the malice in his stare. That malevolent melancholy, instead of discouraging her, spread chilled goose bumps along her arms; she continued tracing down the contour of his temple, cheek bone, jaw-line . . . Adam's apple . . . collarbone . . . down to his chest. Boldly, her hand went beneath the flap of his coat, resting against bare skin, over his heart.
Her eyes had followed the journey of her hand, but she now raised the direction of her gaze to look him directly in the eyes once again. She was transfixed, spellbound. Quietly, she said, "Laughing . . . no matter in what form it might be . . . is hope for a healing heart. It's still amusement.
"By the way . . . my name is Autumn." She took the last couple of steps until she was at the point in which, if she proceeded any closer, her feet would be on top of his.
He wore a smirk, seemingly undeterred by the offering of her name, and his right arm wrapped around her shoulders, tightly pulling her against his rock hard body. Autumn barely released her small "Ah!" when he eyes were closing for Sephiroth's lips to collide into hers.
She had melted into him, gently sliding the hand under his coat up to his shoulder to hold on, and her left hand went to his waist. Euphoric shocks and shivers went through her body as his other hand went down the curve of her waist.
That night, the sensations Autumn experienced could solely be described as a pleasant form of frostbite. Physically, she could feel his hot breath as it washed over her body and warmth from the contact of their bare skin. Then, heat would flush through her systems, from her core to the farthest points of her extremities.
However, whenever their mouths met, he would not close his eyes.
A single factor made them the coldest kisses she had ever known. His evil green eyes would only ceased to be looking at her when he blinked, and that was a fleeting, necessary movement. It did not diminish the amazement she felt, despite that she did oppositely, closing her eyes and tackling him with warmth. Kinky.
The next morning, she remembered sitting up in her bed again, the blankets uncovering naked skin. She was marred with a few "love-bites" and bruises from being held just a little too tightly; her skin had always been delicate. Yet, as she drew up her knees, she rested her temple on them and smiled, fondly thinking of the night before. Everything felt exquisite.
Her vision blurred as she thought of that time, and dews collected in the corners of her eyes. Frowning, she blinked away those inconveniences and stood on top of the rubble. Her weapons still laid on the tile, so she had to carefully climb down (she did not jump, distrusting that the floor might give way if she did) and gathered them.
With a grunt, she vaulted from the highest point of the rubble to the side of the hole she had created in the building. Prior to when it could collapse again, she jumped to another, more stable-looking structure.
Always, she had been the type of girl to hear half of a story and run away with it, drawing her own conclusions without listening for the end. Due to this, she was often misled, and labeled as gullible or naive; she had hoped to have grown out of that, but that did not seem to be so.
Her current problem had much to do with that trait. She had heard half of Sephiroth's background, that he was created in an unsightly way and harbored a grudged against the world. However, she had not stuck around long enough to catch wing of his vengeful plans; to voyage the cosmos with the planet as his vessel, like Genova had years ago; start anew, in no regard to the current people.
How she could have been so foolish as to not make that connection, she tried not to give much persistence in thinking. People had always referred to Sephiroth infamously, yet when she had heard near-validations, she had been oblivious to the possibility of him being a vengeful villain—in her eyes, he somehow came off as a victim.
"Have you run away from me?" she called, whilst looking around. She even looked above. "Where are you?"
Suddenly, the long blade of masumane presented itself in her left-peripheral vision. She could feel his hair brush against the curve of her neck to her shoulder. "Behind you."
Autumn clicked her tongue and ducked as Sephiroth swung masumane; a strand of her hair was cut. Her right hand, which held the naginata, braced itself against the wall and she swept her leg across the back of her opponent's knees. He simply jumped into the air, above her leg, and hovered as he brought his sword down. Autumn's cleaver, in her left hand, blocked it.
Autumn's countenance marked anger whereas Sephiroth continued to smirk. He tested her, pressuring her as he leaned his weight onto her through masumane. She struggled to keep her arm just out of a locked position, but that only made her more susceptible to her arm bending completely.
Grunts escaped her mouth from exerting strength, though she soon came to a point where she could not force him back; their blades were locked into position, with her arm totally bent. There was a mental cursing as she knew she would not be able to pull this off for long.
Barely another moment later, she gave one potent push and twisted herself so that her feet were where her head had once been. When Sephiroth reapplied more pressure, the twist of Autumn's wrist was not reinforced enough to support her cleaver and keep masumane at bay. She had not hesitated after twisting to pull her legs in so they laid on her side and she sat upright to take her right arm and use the naginata to deflect masumane and relieve pressure on her cleaver.
In case he swung the long blade of masumane again, she tried standing as quickly as possible. She swiftly dashed back two steps. Sephiroth changed position and moved to stab her, but she raised her cleaver in front of her so that masumane caught the side of it just in time.
Autumn spun her naginata and knocked masumane aside, dashing away from him again. This time, her hand holding the cleaver glowed green; when she raised her cleaver and slashed vertically, a waved of fire hissed toward Sephiroth. He dodged.
She caught her breath, weapons at her sides but ready to raise. He, on the other hand, did not seem to have worked up a sweat. Never had she considered herself an incompetent fighter before, but the situation seemed to argue that she was. Yet, miraculously, none of the scratches on her were from masumane or any blade.
"What were you looking for when you came by my room, that night?" she asked.
He raised his free hand up high, "—Does that matter? I had you, instead—," and the skies somber aura began taking on a sinister appearance.
Shame colored Autumn's cheeks. "You never closed your eyes, when we kissed. Was it that shallow?"
He sneered. He brought down his hand and the skies' thundering and manifesting clouds became more evident in the storm. "I watched you as you succumbed to me."
She clicked her tongue again and narrowed her eyes. Her body shook with tremors; her hand tightened around her weapons, reassuring her grip, and she growled.
Then abruptly, the tremors stopped. She sheathed both her cleaver and naginata, not taking her eyes of Sephiroth. A small voice in the back of her mind wondered if she honestly did regret that night. Almost immediately, the man stream of thoughts in her mind quieted it.
Green glowed around her hands and forearms as she raised them in front of her. The aura had a few pulsations as her power charged up. With every pulse, the power grew. Next, she locked her arms at her sides, releasing that fire. Like a rocket, the fire's force propelled her as she darted through the air to Sephiroth.
Nearly there, the fire was gone and sheer force worked against the pull of gravity and resistance of air to take her up further. Her naginata was drawn and kept as close to her side as possible, so as to continue limiting that resistance.
She felt the speed of her ascent begin to slow as she approached him, and when they were level, she raised the arm holding her naginata and swung one of the ends at him. He backed away and guarded with masumane. Before she could fall, she used the leverage to make herself stay aloft moments more, jumping above and behind him.
The cycles she made whilst twirling the naginata were fast, making the weapon a blur in her grasp. Sephiroth smirked and raised masumane again. This time, when he swept it, he struck her naginata at just the right moment; twirling the weapon lessened her grip, and she was disarmed as it fell from the sky.
Autumn's eyes widened and she began her descent with her back toward the ground—which was quite far away. It came to her attention that if she did nothing, she would die. When she had ascended, she had at least thought she would have her naginata to stick into the side of some building to help lessen or even break her fall.
Grabbing her cleaver, she turned to look at the ground beneath her, seeing there was a structure for her to use; before she could begin calculating ways to get there, Sephiroth came into her peripheral, so she turned her attention to him, narrowing her eyes back to a frown.
He was following her descent, his sword at his side. His wing was flat against his back, allowing for him to quickly catch up with her. She took her cleaver and swung at him; he caught her wrist, and flapped his wing. They stopped falling.
"Tell me what you cherish most," he said.
Autumn struggled to liberate herself, free hand holding onto the captured arm. She kicked her legs in the air, but it was all in vain. Sephiroth's grip was tight, and his body was out of reach to injure. Glaring at him, she growled, "Let me go!"
"You'll die. Tell me."
She stopped and gave him her full attention, simply hanging from his hand. "It's already been taken from me. My first impression of you, my first thoughts . . . who I thought you were." He noticed her eyes blinked a few times in succession, as her eyes became watery, and reacted minutely. "But it's too late. I've been disillusioned."
His expression was more serious, now, as their eyes met. There was a track of a tear on her cheek. He tightened his brow further and lowered himself, bringing their bodies and faces closer. Autumn began to bring her knee up to hit him, but his other arm swiftly—but carefully, due to his sword—wrapped around her back and slammed her into him, stopping the kick.
Frostbite. Extreme cold.
Sephiroth closed his eyes and kissed her, profoundly and with feeling. Autumn's round eyes gawked at him, and she blinked a few times before she could bring herself to close hers; another forceful kiss commenced. The arm in which he had first taken hold of had raised above them, but now, he slowly brought that hand down at their sides.
Her hold on the cleaver loosened, and it fell completely from her grasp. Her other arm was pressed against his chest and shoulder, between them. She felt her legs lift themselves a little, as if moving to wrap around him, and their lower abdomens were pressed against one another, as well. Heat flushed from her core.
Frostbite. Extreme cold. Wash of sensational warmth.
In his arms, sharing heat of the body, tangling the tongues of their mouths, feelings those wonderful waves of warmth again, Autumn came to a realization.
She loved this man, despite his evident villainy. Completely infatuated, with this single black-winged angel, that had caused her great pain. There was no way she could destroy him. Not only did she seem to have physical incompetence, but . . . despite everything, she still cared.
Suddenly, she opened her eyes and made a small sound in reaction to pain on her lower lip. She met the cold gaze of his eyes as he withdrew, licking away some red residue on his own lip. Once again, he was smirking at her.
Frostbite. Extreme cold. Wash of sensational warmth. Numbness.
She did not feel much anything with the lasting effect of euphoria. Her wide eyes still stared at him, and her lips slightly parted as Sephiroth's arm ceased to hold her, and his hand released her wrist. Everything seemed to be in slow motion as she continued her descent back to the ground.
Throughout her downward progression, she could not take her eyes off of him. Her hair often disturbed her view, flapping into her peripherals and sometimes, the occasional strand would lash across his image. Around her, the wind continued to pick up.
A man entered the scene running and kicked off of a railing to vault high and catch Autumn in his arms. He was a blonde with spiked hair, blue eyes, and pierced ears. A single shoulder pad with a metal wolf protruding was strapped over a sleeveless turtleneck zipped up to half-way up his chest. He wore black gloves that continued toward his elbows and black pants; swords were strapped to his back, from First Tsurugi.
The blonde continued sailing over, with Autumn in his arms, to the side of a fallen, but stable-looking structure. Autumn turned her head and looked at his face. "Cloud. . . ."
Cloud reacted at the sight of her face. "Your lip. . . ."
He set her down on her feet, and as she stood upright, she brought up one of her fingers and touched her bottom lip. It was tender, and she felt a fluid substance; when she lowered her hand, she saw a few carmine droplets on her finger: fresh blood. Autumn turned and lifted her head to look at Sephiroth once again, only now he was closer down.
Cloud followed suit and frowned, clicking his tongue. Sephiroth's expression at this distance could not easily be seen, but one would venture to guess that it was a sneer. "Good to see you . . . Cloud," he said; his voice carried effortlessly to them.
The blonde drew his swords and leaped to charge at Sephiroth. Autumn stood where she had been placed, looking after; this was Cloud and Sephiroth's fight, now, despite who she would choose to ally with.
But would she ally with either one? She pondered this while she watched the fight. There was not a chance that she would be an effective adversary to Sephiroth. This was not solely because her heart would not allow her to extinguish him, but her fighting skills would not get it done—obviously.
However, even in her heart, did love justify fighting alongside Sephiroth? She did not want this planet to be destroyed, yet . . . well, she did not totally understand what she wanted. A charmed life like she had once envisioned in daydreams with Sephiroth before she learned the rest of his story was impossible with his true self. It had not been very likely even in her phase of ignorance.
She decided to remain neutral, witnessing the epic battle pitting Cloud and Sephiroth against one another with stoical eyes. It was not imperative of her to choose a side, anyway, for this battle was solely betwixt them.
The brunette continued to watch the battle, her heart racing in apprehension. She had quieted her thoughts, not allowing herself to react to any occurrences in the battle; it made her appear very rigid. Only then, Cloud initiated his ultimate attack.
Surrounding Sephiroth, Cloud was encased in an electric yellow aura, and his sword separated to circle his opponent. With this ability, he acquired the power to glide, and took each blade to slice through Sephiroth multiple times. Autumn gasped.
They exchanged a few words she could not make out, and Sephiroth began fading away, back into a young man named Kadaj; a Remnant. Tremors wracked through her body as she almost doubled over, hugging herself. Few tears escaped from her eyes as her breathing accented.
She did not know if Sephiroth had felt the same, she reminded herself. He hated everyone and everything, but he not only caught her in romantic entanglements, he let her live. Though he let her fall, landing from that altitude would not have killed her; maybe he knew Cloud was approaching and would catch her?
Was closing his eyes during their last kiss sincerity or a way of teasing and toying with her? She could understand that he on various happenings, particularly during their battle, could have killed her or exerted more damage, so why had he not? What had he really been doing on the balcony that night?
Had he loved her, or was she simply a used-woman to him?
Alack, none of those questions could be answered, because the only one who could, was gone. Rain began to fall, catching her attention. It was Aerith's Great Gospel, which she could tell from the way it felt as it poured across her skin. She saw Cloud with Kadaj in his arms, raising his hand toward the sky. He melted away.
A little time passed, and Autumn found herself in the Midgar Church. Many people were there, watching as children that still had the geostigma climbed into a pool of Lifestream water around Cloud; in that pool, the stigma would be washed away.
She watched everyone's elated, celebratory expressions, but could not bring herself to completely match them. Definitely, she was glad that the planet and its inhabitants were saved, and that the stigma was cured, but her heart was not completely in it.
Frostbite. Extreme cold. Wash of sensational heat. Numbness.
She held onto a part of her arm and sighed. Despite everything, it felt like a part of her heart had died along with Sephiroth. She took the tip of her middle finger of her left hand and touched the marred part of her lip.
In the pool, Cloud cupped some of the Lifestream water and splashed it onto a boy named Denzel's head, like a holy man baptizing someone. Black ichor on the skin that was the stigma's mark washed away.
He looked up from the children, and noticed Autumn's actions. Passing the children, he climbed out of the pool and headed toward her. She looked at him, raising her head from pall. Somehow, she summoned a small smile. "Hey."
He looked at her seriously, not reacting to the smile. "When I was fighting Sephiroth, he said that he wanted to sail the cosmos with this planet as his vessel . . . and you by his side, start anew. Do you know what that's about?"
Autumn stared at him with wide eyes, feeling tears form in her eyes. Her lips twitched, trying to form a watery smile, but trembling toughened any attempt at formation. She lowered her head and collapsed to her knees, holding herself. Tears she had held back after the battle freed themselves in one, fluid stream.
"At his side . . . start anew. . . ."
Frostbite.
End of Frostbite
Thanks everyone! Please, leave a review, and God bless! :D