((Author's Note: I finally got around to re-editing and touching up this story, since I wrote it quite a long time ago. A lot of minor corrections and some word choice and phrasing adjustments... I think the result is that it reads a lot smoother. This story is set during Sephiroth's SOLDIER days, a few years before the tragedy in Nibelheim.))
"You couldn't handle thinking that you were an inhuman experiment," Lucrecia said, so sure of what she said that Sephiroth felt as if she were dissecting his heart. "So you turned it into something you believed made you better than the others, something that gave you a reason to act out all the anger and pain you felt but never showed."
Sephiroth looked at her with a brief flash of amazement. "And how do you know this?"
"Because I'm your mother," Lucrecia smiled. "I wasn't there, but I know you." She paused as if trying to recall something before going on. "Remember that winter night about eight years ago, when you had just returned from a mission in North Corel?"
"You... you know about that?"
"Yes... On that night, I was watching you," Lucrecia said. "You were tired and frustrated, and you stood at your window watching the snow fall outside on the practice field."
Sephiroth nodded. "Yes... I remember."
"You stood there and watched the snow fall, and you felt the emptiness in your chest like a gaping hole you couldn't ever hope to fill," Lucrecia said softly. "You thought that there wasn't a person alive who loved you, or who would ever love you. You felt so alone at that moment that you thought you might burst. You told yourself that you didn't care, but you did, so much that it hurt like a knife through your heart. You felt tears fill your eyes but you held them back... You haven't cried since you were four years old."
"You... you know all this?" Sephiroth asked, looking frightened, and more than a little embarrassed. He wondered what else she knew and shivered.
"Yes..." Lucrecia said, wiping away a tear that escaped her eye. "In your worst times, when the sorrow and loneliness were too much for you to bear alone, I was there, looking over your shoulder. All those times that you would return from missions and battles, being praised as the greatest warrior alive, when you would curl up in that old blue chair and wonder who you really were... I was there with you. You were never really alone, even when you thought that you could drop off of the Planet and no one would care."
"I cannot believe you know these things..." Sephiroth whispered. "No one ever knew how I felt... I never told. I couldn't."
"I know," Lucrecia said. "You had too much pride to admit how lost and alone you felt. You would never ask for help, not even when you were certain you crazy. You were taught to hide your feelings from the time you were a baby, because warriors never showed such weakness..."
"That's right," Sephiroth agreed. "Only, I do not think I have any feelings at all... They are something lost to me that I have never understood."
"That is only because no one ever showed you how to express them," Lucrecia told him. "You can only learn to feel by having those around you feel for you and encourage you to share your emotions with them. Your feelings are there, Sephiroth, you just have to want to find them."
Sephiroth & Lucrecia, Chapter 4: Rebirth, Irony of Fate
Winter was a magical time for many people, and the first snowfall of the season seemed to bring out something special in everyone from young children to adults. It was no different on the plate of Midgar, the army's usual training field having been turned into a snowy playground despite its proximity to Shin-ra Headquarters. Crowds of people ranging in age from toddlers to the elderly had gathered to enjoy the beautiful surroundings and partake in the appropriate winter games as large, white flakes continued to fall from the darkening sky. Children ran about playfully throwing snowballs while others built forts and snow figures. Couples walked hand-in-hand and caught snowflakes on their tongues, others content to simply stand by and watch the activities with joy and amazement. No one, however, was aware of the figure watching over them from many stories above the ground. He rather liked it that way.
Standing before the large window that made up nearly one entire wall of his living quarters, General Sephiroth watched the field far below with a quiet detachment, his arms folded sternly across his chest. Standing at the window was one of his favorite places to think, as he could look out but no one else could see in. Being so high above everyone and everything else made for an interesting perspective as well, he'd always thought. He could see for miles around the city, all without taking a single step. Sephiroth knew Midgar well, as he did most of the entire Planet due to his travels with SOLDIER, but it was the small field almost directly below him that held his attention now.
Snow was just another form of rain to Sephiroth, a kind of weather that would ordinarily have people complaining and running for shelter. But just because it was colder and in a new form, everyone was suddenly happy and eager to experience it. It made no sense to him, as did many human behaviors considered to be normal by the population at large. In his eyes, weather was something inevitable that changed from day to day, and one simply had to deal with it and move on regardless of its form. Why everyone was making such a big deal out of the foot of snow that had already fallen was beyond him as he observed the scene from his perch, shaking his head in mild annoyance. Why did people insist on being so strange and difficult to understand?
Sephiroth had only returned home a few hours before, having been on an assignment to oversee a new mining expedition near North Corel. It had been a dull and frustrating week, and returning home to all of the fuss about a simple thing like snow had only darkened his mood. Upon arriving at Headquarters, he had quickly written up a report on the successful mission, wordlessly handed it off to one of the many nameless secretaries, then returned to his room and locked the door. He wanted no further parts of the excited people or the weather.
Once alone, though, he found he could not escape it after all. He supposed he could have closed the blinds, but when he had moved to the window to do so, he found himself drawn instead to the scene below and soon could not look away. It was ridiculous, he told himself repeatedly, yet he remained there, watching like some sort of god in the heavens, confused by all of the excitement below and trying to figure out what it all meant. He felt separate from it all, though within minutes he could have easily become at least a physical part of the activities.
He was only twenty-two years old, yet he was the head of Shin-ra's most elite army division and both respected and feared around the Planet. His status elevated him above all others in many ways, making it even harder for him to blend in then it had already been before all of the fame and glory. For a moment, he felt almost like a powerful super being, standing high above all of humanity and watching their every move with a critical gaze. But after a moment, a more troubling thought occurred to him, turning his mouth down into a severe frown. What if it was really he who was being watched, kept trapped behind a glass wall as others observed from the other side?
He wasn't sure where the thought had come from, but it sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. Perhaps he was simply tired. He hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours, after all, or eaten for that matter. Or maybe it was his brief conversation with Professor Hojo when he'd first arrived home... The strange little man always unnerved Sephiroth, a childish reaction he could never quite suppress. But whatever the cause, Sephiroth slowly began to realize that his isolation high above the others was not a choice he had made only for that evening. No, it was a fact that had ruled over his entire life, a cold hand maintaining a firm grip upon him and keeping him firmly apart from the others... They were the normal people, and try as he might he was not permitted to join them.
Sephiroth's green Mako eyes focused on a group of small boys, watching intently as they ran about chasing one another and gleefully lobbing snowballs. He could almost hear their laughter and squeals of delight in his mind as he stood there, studying the children with a rising jealousy that seemed ridiculous at his age. Why would he be envious of children at play, after all? He was the most skilled fighter alive and the most powerful man in SOLDIER... But what was it like, he wondered, to simply relax and have fun with others one's own age? As a child, he'd not had that experience. He was kept apart from other children, directed toward training and learning to fight from the time he could walk. The concept of play was alien and strange to him, yet at the same time, he knew it was something he should have understood. The feeling that something was missing in his past suddenly became nearly overwhelming, his chest tightening even as he took a deep breath and told himself he was being ridiculous. Once he slept off his exhaustion, everything would be fine, and his thoughts would return to their usual order, he assured himself. They had to...
A moment later, his eyes left the group of children and settled upon a family… A mother, father, and two children building a snowman together. What was the purpose? he wondered absently. They were only wasting their time and energy. Soon, the snow would melt, or the plows would come and knock it down, and all of their efforts would have been for naught. Still, they seemed to enjoy the pointless activity, laughing and helping each other as if they truly enjoyed being together. Sephiroth sighed as the mother hugged one of the children close to her, the tightening in his chest only increasing. He did not even know his own mother... She was long dead, he'd been told, having passed away immediately following his birth. All he had left of her was an empty, faceless name and a multitude of questions without answers. No one seemed to know the identity his father, let alone what had become of him and why he was absent from Sephiroth's life. What was it like to know one's parents, and to spend time with them? And what of brothers and sisters? He knew he had no siblings, but had occasionally wondered if perhaps he would have liked to. His life certainly would not have been so lonely...
Lonely?
What was wrong with him, he wondered, thinking such things... He was surely not lonely. He had his career, his training, and endless missions and battles in the war with Wutai to occupy his time. He was constantly among his soldiers and those they were involved with, and he often wished he could be alone and away from them all at those times. Yet when he was alone at the end of the day, as he was now, Sephiroth realized that something that should have been was... simply absent. Thinking of the quarters of other soldiers he'd seen, he realized what that something was.
In his spacious living quarters, there was almost nothing of a personal nature that spoke to those few who entered about who resided within. Certainly the Masamune hanging sheathed beside his bed was a good clue, but it was only his weapon, something that was practical and necessary. Others had pictures of family members, statues and collectibles, books, and even games strewn about, representing those things they loved and valued most in life. Sephiroth did have books, as he liked to read a great deal, but he admitted that almost all of them were about wars, strategies, or famous battle heroes. He had a television, but he rarely watched anything aside from the news and an occasional documentary. He preferred to read the paper to that, though, since it lacked the annoying, overly-cheerful television personalities that made his blood run cold. Looking about at the immaculately neat, largely empty room, Sephiroth realized how very naked his personal dwelling appeared, as if no one really lived there at all. Was that how his heart would appear if it could be removed from his chest and studied? Shaking his head, he ran a nervous hand through his long silver bangs, trying again to vanish such thoughts.
When he looked out the window again, still unsure of why he was suddenly so fixated on the winter scene below, he noticed a man and woman walking at the very outskirts of the field, holding hands and staying very close to one another. They were obviously a couple, he realized, and seemed to be enjoying the evening together despite the cold. In fact, they didn't seem to notice much of anything going on around them, completely focused on each other as they walked. Every so often, one would turn to the other and smile warmly, an open affection visible in their expressions even from where he stood. Did they love each other?, he wondered absently. He had always heard from those around him that falling in love was one of the most wonderful experiences in life, yet he'd never experienced the feeling himself. He knew he was considered handsome and that many people, male and female alike, greatly admired and looked up to him. Yet he had never even gone out on a date, much less had a girlfriend or fallen in love. He always told himself and those brave enough to ask that he simply had no interest or time for such things, but now he began to wonder. Was that the real reason, or was it something else? Was he even capable of feeling love? He found that he wasn't sure... Sephiroth couldn't recall ever having loved anyone throughout his life, and knew with certainty that no one had felt that way for him. Would they ever, or was love something a man such as he was not meant to have? Was he truly that cold, that different...? Swallowing hard, Sephiroth felt the tightness and tension throughout his body increase. Didn't anyone care for him at all? Painfully, he found the answer to be no.
Gritting his teeth, Sephiroth lifted a hand to the window before him, resting his palm against the cool glass and spreading his fingers as if to test that the invisible barrier was really there. Sure enough, it stopped his hand from passing through, just as some unknown yet powerful force he didn't understand kept him from bonding with others and being loved. He stared at his hand for long moments, again wondering exactly what the black number one tattooed into his flesh meant and where it had come from. Perhaps it was a curse set upon him at birth, a cruel indicator of what life would have in store for him. Let no one who bears this symbol be accepted by his fellow man or loved by anyone, including his own parents... No one who had left their child alone to suffer through such an existence could possibly have loved him. Was he so terrible a person that his own mother had chosen death to avoid him? Had he caused his father to run away?
Sephiroth felt rare tears fill his eyes as he stared at the feint reflection of himself cast upon the smooth glass, the thoughts and fears he was usually so easily able to suppress and deny rising up to drown him in grief. No, he would not cry, he told himself firmly. Infants cried... Warriors never showed such weakness, and grown men certainly did not shed tears. Swallowing hard and closing his eyes, begging an unspecified person or power for control, he managed to hold them back and bite down on his feelings yet again. But when he again opened his eyes, watching as the people below began to disperse in small groups to the warmth of their homes for the evening, he felt as hopeless and alone as before.
His heart heavy with fear and questions that were usually so easy to ignore or bury beneath his work, Sephiroth turned away from the window, telling himself that he didn't need those who did not accept him. He did not need to be a part of their world when he had survived for so long on his own. But did he want to join them? No, he wouldn't waste his time on such thoughts! Of course he didn't, and even if he did, he wouldn't have been allowed to so easily leave the prison of isolation that had been built around him since his birth. Sinking into the soft, blue chair beside his bed that he often used for reading before he slept, Sephiroth wondered just how much he had helped to build that prison.
What is wrong with me? Am I crazy?
Folding his arms across his chest as if to shield his heart from further pain, Sephiroth rested his head against the soft cushions and sighed. At that moment, alone in a dim, nearly empty room, he felt as if he could fall off the face of the Planet and no one would ever know. Well, at least not until the next battle they needed to win, he thought bitterly. That was the only reason people admired him, he admitted. He was willing to risk his own life time and again to keep them and their loved ones safe, and to help those who craved power and wealth realize their dreams. They did not care about him. He could die tomorrow on the battlefield, and as long as Shin-ra won in the end, what would it matter if he were gone? His eyes again burning with tears, Sephiroth squeezed them shut, trying to shut out the pain as surely as he tried to contain his emotions.
Sephiroth suddenly stood again and slowly returned to the window, this time looking straight down at the concrete walkway below. It was a long way down from his position... What would happen, he wondered, if he were to fall from the window separating him from the outside world? Would anyone care then? The answer remained the same as before, and Sephiroth felt himself shakily raise his hands to slowly unlatch the lock and begin to slide it open.
A blast of cold air quickly rushed through the crack, as if grateful to finally have the opportunity to slip inside and further chill him. Opening the window until there was a space just wide enough for him to squeeze through, Sephiroth examined the small ledge jutting out a few inches below, a mockery of a safety net that seemed to be placed there for the sole purpose of laughing at him. There was no escape, no matter what he did. Because even if he fell, Sephiroth realized he probably would not have died. His body had an incredible rate of healing itself, and would only repair the otherwise fatal damage as it had so many times in the past. What would be for others a blessing, he found to be an endless curse of continued existence.
Cautiously, Sephiroth began to step out onto the narrow ledge, only the tips of his boots preventing him from plummeting to the ground. Standing there in the cold, the wind and snow assaulting him as he held onto the frame of the window, Sephiroth closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the night air. Was it so much better here on the outside?, he wondered. Or am I still trapped behind yet another invisible wall?
Suddenly, he simply had to know. If he fell, would another wall stop him, or would he hit the ground like everyone else? One by one, he began to release his fingers from their grip upon the window frame until he stood precariously on the small ledge. He balanced on just the tips of his toes, nothing else to keep him in place. No one was watching... They would never know, not until someone came along and found him lying there in the morning. If he ever even reached the ground...
Closing his eyes, Sephiroth bent his knees and prepared to jump out and away from the building, wanting to be sure he didn't hit the ledges or the side of the structure as he fell. But suddenly, mere fractions of a second before he allowed himself to fall, a strange voice in his head shouted out to him in terror, commanding him to stop. Sephiroth's eyes snapped open in fear and confusion, and in the shock of the moment he nearly lost his balance. Arms flailing wildly, he fought to keep from pitching forward as he lost his stance on the ledge, and when he reached out for help he found nothing to save himself. Too late, Sephiroth realized with horror what he'd been about to do, and now there was nothing he could do to stop it.
No! I am not crazy! This cannot happen!
Closing his eyes, realizing that he was going to fall and accepting his fate as inevitable and what he deserved for his foolish behavior, Sephiroth was amazed when, a moment later, a strong wind slammed him back against the side of the building. It nearly pinned him to the cold stone and forcefully kept him from pitching forward. Reaching out with both hands, he managed to grab a hold of the window frame once again, quickly pulling himself inside a moment later.
Once safely back on the other side of the window, Sephiroth immediately slammed the sliding pane of glass shut and firmly locked it. His heart was pounding rapidly in his chest and he was breathing was ragged and panicked. He was trembling all over and his legs nearly buckled beneath him.
Gods, what did I almost do?
Looking out through the window, down at the hard, unforgiving ground below, Sephiroth was more afraid than he'd ever been in his entire life.
Would I have really gone through with it? Am I losing my mind? But then... What made me stop?
Closing the blinds as if to block out the terror of what had almost happened, Sephiroth returned to the chair in which he'd briefly been seated. His body continued to shake as his mind replayed over and over what he'd very nearly done in a moment of weakness. But something made him stop... Indeed, it had almost seemed as if some kind of power had not only called out to him in warning, but physically kept him from falling and helped him back to safety. Closing his eyes, Sephiroth's exhaustion suddenly caught up with him as his body slowly relaxed from the ordeal. Maybe this really was all due to exhaustion, and things would seem different after he rested...
As he tried to drift off to sleep, a strange warmth washed over Sephiroth, calming his troubled thoughts and washing away all of the pain and doubt that had nearly driven him to the unthinkable moments before. As the last of his conscious thoughts were lost to sleep, Sephiroth didn't feel so alone anymore. And though he wouldn't remember it in the morning, the same voice that had earlier commanded him not to jump again spoke in the back of his mind, filled with the love he'd secretly yearned for all his life.
Your mother loves you, Sephiroth...