It was a warm and pleasant night, with the half-moon peeking between wispy clouds and gentle breezes wafting through the air. On the wind he could smell and taste the sea, and he closed his eyes as he took in a deep breath. It was wonderful being able to breathe fresh air instead of the noxious fumes that made Midgar infamous. Here there was nothing but the peaceful tranquility of nature.
Costa del Sol sparkled like a diamond a short distance away, its light casting everything in a hazy, dream-like glow that did not diminish the beauty around him. He could hear jubilant voices from the tavern as late-night patrons left, vanishing into darkness or retreating to a quiet spot on the beach. He heaved a sigh. How he wished he were as carefree as those people.
Sephiroth had only just arrived in Costa del Sol, and his reasons for being there centered on Jeanette. She had already been here for about a week, an emotional wreck due to what was forced on her. Seeing her in such a state of despair fueled the anger he had toward the source of it all.
Professor Hojo had always been a staple in Sephiroth's life. Growing up he saw the tall, spindly man almost all the time. His mere presence sometimes set Sephiroth on edge, for he didn't like how Hojo looked at him. When he did, the professor smiled, the act alone revealing hidden secrets he wasn't about to share. Back then he avoided looking at Hojo at all costs.
But now…now he wanted to see him. He wanted to wrap his hand around the professor's throat and crush his windpipe for daring to interfere with his life. For daring to hurt Jeanette.
His beloved, who slept as soundly as she could in her room, had been used as an unwilling pawn in Hojo's never-ending pursuit of knowledge. After seeing that she and Sephiroth were romantically involved, Hojo spun a plan that involved her becoming pregnant. He did not know how Hojo had managed to pull it off, but he did, and now Sephiroth was faced with a dilemma.
He had to make damn sure Hojo never achieved what he wanted. His frown deepened as his hands clenched around the porch railing. Sephiroth would sooner inflict pain upon himself than see Jeanette in the madman's clutches.
There was a hushed movement behind him, causing Sephiroth to look over his shoulder. He saw Jeanette there, dressed in a short white nightgown that shimmered like a pearl in the moonlight. In her eyes he saw her exhaustion and fear, but he also saw the love she had for him.
"Can't sleep?" she said, coming up to stand beside him. Sephiroth nodded absently, his gaze never straying from her. She leaned forward, supporting herself on the railing via her elbows and heaved a sigh. Some strands of her auburn hair fell forward, shielding her eyes from him. Sephiroth reached out to brush her hair away, and she turned to look up at him curiously.
"I can't stop thinking about everything, about how furious I am with Hojo, and how concerned I am for you."
He paused, turning to face her and placing his hands on her shoulders. She tilted her head up at him, waiting.
"I've also been thinking about a possible solution. I know what you told me earlier is true, but…" he trailed off when she placed a finger on his lips. She regarded him lovingly, even though two tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Sephiroth, why would I ever want to destroy something we created out of love?"
"You should have had a choice in the matter," he pressed softly, taking her hand and holding it against his chest. She stepped closer to him, the wind tousling her hair and tugging at the tears in her eyes. Her hand slid up the length of his arm, coming to a rest on his shoulder.
"I do have a choice. I choose to bear this child. I'm not afraid, Sephiroth. So long as I have you, Hojo can try anything he likes. He just won't succeed," Jeanette said, smiling as her hand went from his shoulder to his face. She held it gently, her fingers stroking his skin. He stared deeply into her eyes, the sincerity of her words warming him all over.
Whispering her name, Sephiroth leaned over and kissed her upturned mouth, closing his eyes as the love for her chased away his worries. Jeanette pulled him closer to her, arching her body against his while his hands worked into her hair.
"I love you so much," he said after pulling away but keeping his hands on either side of her head. He was still leaning forward, with his forehead pressed against hers and eyes closed. She nuzzled his nose affectionately, understanding his concerns.
"And I love you, Sephiroth. Everything will be all right," she whispered. He nodded, loving the woman in his arms more and more.
Drawing her to him again, Sephiroth simply held her to him as he cast his gaze out to sea. Nothing would separate them, not even the threat of Hojo. Nothing.
Sephiroth woke with a violent start, flying into an upright position just as the dream faded. Sweat beaded on his brow, his heart beat erratically, and his chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath. The warmth he experienced in the dream faded to nothing, leaving him alone in his sorrow again. His flesh still tingled from the feel of her in his arms, and with a soft groan doubled over.
It all came back. The helplessness, the emptiness, the sheer heartache at learning his beloved Jeanette had died, and he choked back a sob. He stared at his gloved hands, his gaze as empty as his heart. After a moment he clenched them helplessly. What is there left for me?
Furrowing his brow, he became steadily aware of the stale air around him as he slowed his breathing. After taking a quick glance around, he learned he was no longer on the island. How he came to be at this place meant very little to him as he studied his surroundings.
He appeared to be in an abandoned hotel room, for the very bottom of a neon sign could be seen flickering in the upper right-hand corner of the window. Some buildings stood across the way, black shadows that scraped against an equally black sky, offering no clue as to where he was.
The interior of the room was quite run down, and the furniture present was either soiled or broken from old age. A hole in the ceiling accounted for the pungent odor of mildew, as well as the puddles of water on the floor. Wallpaper hung off the walls in tattered bits and pieces, its color so faded Sephiroth couldn't even guess what it must have once looked like.
Turning on the bed, ignoring the loud creak that emanated from its springs as he did so, Sephiroth rose to his feet. The floor groaned beneath his weight as he walked toward the window, forcing him to step lightly. He got the impression the building was quite unsteady, and the last thing he wanted was to become trapped in it should the floor give way.
At last he came to the window and stood before it, casting his gaze outside. Broken shards of glass stubbornly clung to the top of the window, which Sephiroth brushed aside so he could gain a clearer view. A small shard speared his fingertip through his glove, causing him to mildly grunt. Lifting it to his face so he could inspect the wound, Sephiroth only sighed.
A small drop of blood manifested just above the puncture in his glove, and he simply lowered his hand. Physical pain held no real meaning to him now. He would gladly have taken a sword in the gut instead of the dwelling emptiness that now resided inside his soul.
The scenery outside matched the interior of the room. The buildings that stood opposite him bore broken windows, and all the floors were dark. The streets were deserted save for the occasional scattering of trash the wind tossed about. Some streetlights were lit; others were toppled over, their bulbs shattered. Glancing up, Sephiroth could see nothing but a black void.
Stars, if there were any, were made invisible. Very little light penetrated this particular area, giving Sephiroth the impression he was right where he wanted to be. Only darkness and despair existed here, and both complimented him.
Overcome with the need to get out lest he succumb to his sorrow again, Sephiroth climbed out of the window and stepped onto the fire escape there. It was rusted with age, and shaky besides. Sephiroth took a single step before being forced to grab onto the windowsill when the fire escape fell from beneath his feet.
The landing and stairs crashed onto the street below, the metallic ring their impact made on concrete echoing far and wide. Suspended as he was, the forced position of his upper body aggravated his chest wound, and with a sharp cry let go.
He landed in a half-crouch near the ruined fire escape, his hand coming to his wounded chest immediately. He remained there for several moments, waiting for the pain to subside before slowly achieving his feet. Once he gave himself a quick inspection for any other wounds, Sephiroth looked around.
The streets were deserted in both directions, and after deciding to head north he began walking. The city's resemblance to Midgar brought a strange sense of comfort to him, and he took in the sights. Staring up at the great hulking buildings, he was mildly curious as to what could have happened.
Whatever it had been, it was long since past. Evidence of decay was everywhere, and the longer Sephiroth studied his surroundings the more he realized that he might be the only person there. The notion suited him, considering he was once again lost.
There was no place for him to go to, nowhere he could turn. Midgar and everything that had happened seemed like some distant dream void of substance. His memories were still in tact, yet they were more like whispering ghosts that did nothing but taunt him. He closed his eyes as he called up her image again.
Jeanette was little more than an insubstantial memory to him now. He could feel every place on his body her hands had touched, feel her kiss on his lips, and all the while his heartache increased. But he hadn't the energy to cry anymore. His tears gone, all Sephiroth had now was a strange numb that overwhelmed him. It felt as if he was hovering just outside his body, his tether on reality thin but not having been broken.
Turning down a corner, Sephiroth came to what he believed to have been the center of the city. More buildings stretched up into forever, like ancient sentinels who lost sight of their purpose. A wind stirred then, pulling at his long hair with the gentleness of a caress. He remembered Jeanette's fingers curling into his hair whenever she held him close, as well as the tingling sensation her touch created all throughout his body.
Putting the sensation aside, Sephiroth focused his gaze on the largest building that stood directly before him. It seemed more alight than its neighbors, plus it bore a large billboard near the roof. It resembled a giant television screen, for it flickered between black and spotted gray randomly. Sephiroth suddenly narrowed his gaze at the screen.
He wasn't quite sure, but he thought he saw a brief image appear. What it could be was beyond him now, for when he looked again he saw nothing. Resigned, Sephiroth started walking again, his footsteps mechanical as they carried him wherever.
After about an hour of exploring the city, the skies clouded and it began to downpour. Sephiroth stood there in the rain, staring up into the sky. The raindrops slid down his face akin to tears, the wind whipped at him, but still he remained. He was completely soaked when common sense forced him to seek shelter.
Ducking into an old house not too far from the center of the city, Sephiroth paused to study it. It was in the same state as the hotel room, and smelled of an old basement besides, but at this point he didn't care. Stepping carefully to avoid any pitfalls, Sephiroth began to explore it.
The lower level of the house yielded nothing of use. Heading for the staircase, Sephiroth was forced to stop when he violently sneezed. His clothes stuck to him like a second skin, chilling him to the bone and causing him to shiver. He mildly cursed himself for standing so long in the rain and proceeded up the stairs.
The upper level seemed more stable, and Sephiroth inspected each room he came across. Most were empty, but there was one at the end of the hall that sported a bed. A dresser was against the wall, three of its four drawers gone, the remaining one's coating peeling away due to the elements. Little else was in the room, but it would do.
Crossing to the bed and testing it for loose springs or any other sort of wear, Sephiroth sank onto it. As he sat down he groaned softly, for his other wounds flared in pain. Reaching for a peculiar ache on his shoulder, his exploring fingers came across dried blood. Curious, Sephiroth also flexed the wing. It responded, barely.
Upon further inspection he found the inch-deep cut that lined the base of the wing. He grunted to himself at feeling the sticky blood that had run down the back of his coat. In a way he was happy the wing was injured. Had he the means, he would tear it off himself just to be rid of the symbolism it carried.
He removed his coat slowly, wincing each time he aggravated his injuries. He managed to free the wing, and in doing so pulled more feathers free. They fluttered to the ground delicately, landing near his feet. He smirked and kicked them aside.
The coat eventually gave way, as did the scuffed leather straps he wore around his upper body. After laying them aside he leaned over to remove his boots. His fingers fumbled over the buckles, for they had started to tremble. He frowned as he tried to still them, but it seemed they only trembled more.
A small sound of frustration passed through his clenched teeth, and at length he successfully removed his boots. He had a little more difficulty in removing his pants, for he had to peel them off one leg at a time. Sitting on the bed, entirely nude and shivering, Sephiroth heaved a tired sigh.
Exhaustion, true exhaustion, was setting in, as well as what promised to be a sleepless night. Groping for the thin sheet that lined the bed, he pulled it up and wrapped it around himself. Once he was fairly snug inside it, he turned his attention to the set of windows across from him.
The rain continued its onslaught outside, most of it getting into the house due to the fact the windows were broken. Lightning lit up the darkness, which was quickly followed by the sound of thunder. As he sat there on the bed, shivering from the cold, he became aware that the storm suddenly reminded him of Jeanette. Seeking comfort from the memory, Sephiroth closed his eyes.
A thunderstorm rocked the skies over Wutai, and Sephiroth lay awake with Jeanette in his arms simply listening to it. She had been about five months pregnant at the time, and restless besides. She often admitted the only time she slept was when he was there, and for the most part that proved true.
Suddenly she snuggled closer to him when a loud thunderclap sounded, bringing a smile to his face. Glancing down at her, he asked,
"Do storms frighten you?"
She lifted her head and smiled sheepishly. Shadows of raindrops that rolled down the side window fell over her features in succession, sliding down her body before vanishing into the darkness of the covers. She gave a helpless shrug.
"It's silly, I know, especially since I grew up in a place notorious for storms. I just never got used to them," Jeanette explained, gasping softly when lightning streaked across the sky. A moment later thunder sounded, so loud this time she cried out. Sephiroth kissed the top of her head, a soft chuckle rising in his throat.
"What?" she asked, a smile stealing its way across her face as she looked at him.
"I don't believe you to be frightened of anything. Given where you are and what's happened, jumping at thunderstorms should be the least of your concerns," he said gently, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand. Jeanette considered his words before smiling again.
Rising from the bed, she surprised him by straddling him, tucking her legs along either side of her. The pressure of her body on his in that way awakened his desire, and he placed his hands on her waist. She now bore a coquettish smile as she ran her hands up and down his muscled chest.
"If I was distracted from my fear, your words would prove true. So," she said, leaning forward and gently kissing him. He returned it, angling his head up to better accommodate her. Before she pulled away she nipped at his bottom lip and finished,
"What are you going to do about it?"
Sephiroth kissed her again, his hands slipping beneath the nightgown she wore and caressing the skin beneath. Jeanette smiled against his mouth, then giggled when he brushed past a ticklish spot. A short tickle fight followed, but it returned to the beginnings of passion the moment Sephiroth pinned her beneath him.
It had been one of their more passionate sessions, as if the power of the storm outside fueled their physical desire. Neither of them wanted it to end, even when Sephiroth knew Jeanette was growing weary. However, when she did finally fall asleep, the large clap of thunder did not awaken her.
The all-too familiar ache in his body began to rise, and Sephiroth opened his eyes. The image of Jeanette in his arms faded after a moment, leaving him with nothing. He sighed as he suppressed a shudder. It was an endless cycle. He would always be caught somewhere between wanting to die and wanting to live, if only to remember her face.
Sephiroth eventually lay down on the bed, bringing the sheet up around his shoulders. He remained on his right side, heedless of the pain the position brought his injured wing, his haunted eyes focused on the rain. The sound of it dropping into the room and on the windowsill turned into a strange lullaby, and he closed his eyes. Sleep took him not a moment too soon.
Elsewhere in the abandoned city, a figure draped in black stood alone on a rooftop, accompanied by nothing but the elements, and vivid memories of what he recently experienced. The stranger had been in the same garb as he- and the Organization members he encountered- with one exception. The figure's mouth twisted into an expression of distaste, the emotion mirrored in eyes currently hidden behind a blindfold that did nothing to inhibit his sight. It wasn't losing that irked him. Well, perhaps a little bit. If it was one thing Riku prided himself on, it was his prowess in combat. No, the thing that truly bothered him was the fact this hooded figure possessed a Keyblade, a weapon only one other, save he, could wield. But who was he?
Riku distinctly recalled looking up at the stranger, mind temporarily paralyzed by the sight of the gleaming Keyblade in his hand, before he demanded to know why. He received only a curt reply in return, then the other vanished. Riku had retreated to the rooftop to avoid being subdued by the remaining Heartless, the other's discarded Oblivion Keyblade in hand. He did not know why he took it; perhaps it was for nostalgic reasons, perhaps it was to bolster his power. Perhaps it was both.
He frowned thoughtfully. There had been an air of familiarity about him, one he had missed in the first moments of their encounter. Could it be…? No, that was impossible. Riku knew where Sora was. Namine's spell would not have been completed by now. He suddenly yearned for the presence of the king, for he was a wellspring of information. However, soon after they met in Castle Oblivion, King Mickey vanished. Once again, he was alone.
Riku's chest tightened, for recalling his solitude always brought forth memories of his mother, and the promise he had made her. He laid his over the left side of his chest, eyes sliding closed. How could he seek his father now? The scent of Ansem clung to him, as did the darkness. Although he welcomed the darkness and its power, Riku would wait until all traces of Ansem were gone before he resumed his search for his father. Shame prevented him from doing it now.
Riku lifted his head and gazed into the darkness. Yet he did not see its black emptiness; instead, he saw the sunlight of happier times. Visions of he and Sora as young children at play appeared there, as if someone had flung his memories upon a large canopy. Kairi stood nearby, cheering on Riku as he traded blows with Sora, who had on that silly pirate's hat. Wishful thinking pictured Jeanette there, his mother laughing at his antics before turning to wave someone else over. The tightness in his chest developed into tears when the blurred features of his father appeared. As always the sight of his father brought on various emotions, bringing back all the heartache from those first few months without his mother. He glanced away, but the image only stayed with him. Tears rolled down his pale cheeks, and he released a trembling sigh.
Father…do you know what happened to Mom? Are you thinking of her now? Of me? Or did you forget? Riku pondered. Instantly he followed that thought with, No, he couldn't have forgotten us…I don't believe that. Just hold on a little longer, Father. I will find you.
A movement attracted Riku's attention, and he looked over his shoulder. A Heartless was skulking about the shadows, bringing a smile to his face. It was the perfect distraction from his otherwise dark thoughts. He took a step back, fading into the black of night.
A Heartless, one of the smaller ones, darted out into the open only to find Riku gone. It studied the concrete block he once stood on curiously, twitching its antennae erratically. The sound of the rain muted all sounds, giving Riku the advantage over the unsuspecting Heartless.
Coming around so that he was behind it, Riku slowly withdrew Oblivion. He gripped its handle tightly, waiting for the right moment to strike. The Heartless turned, its eerie yellow eyes glowing brightly against the inkiness of its body. It cocked its head, looking directly where Riku stood yet unable to see him. The darkness concealed Riku, the rain silenced his movements, and before his enemy could react there was a swift whoosh, followed by the faint echo of a chain-linked key ring. The Heartless was knocked off the building by the force of Riku's strike, and faded well before it hit the ground.
Riku looked over the edge of the building, scanning the streets for any others. He saw them, but they remained confined to the shadows. And then, as if someone had flashed light their way, they scurried in all directions like spiders. Riku relaxed his Keyblade and exhaled. They would return. Until then, he would wait, accompanied by his memories, and his darkness.
Sephiroth felt as if he was sinking into ice-cold water, with no reprieve in sight. His body shivered uncontrollably, his teeth chattered, and salty tears rolled down his cheeks. Somewhere inside he knew with sad clarity that he was still alive. Why, he did not know. How could someone continue to live when the heart was gone?
His trembling hands groped for the sheet to pull it closer to him, but to no avail. It was threadbare, and growing steadily damp due to the small drops of water that fell from the ceiling. They came from a tiny, almost insignificant hole overhead, and in spite of its size it was doing a wonderful job at making him more miserable.
Rolling onto his other side, his wing shielding most of the raindrops, Sephiroth closed his eyes. He had curled himself into a fetal position in the hopes that it would keep him warm, yet it did not. Each time he shivered he moved, disrupting the warmth his body was trying to generate and forcing the process to start again.
So. This was it. Here he was, freezing to death in a place he did not know, and he was alone. There would be no one to mourn him, no one to keep his memory in their hearts. It would be as if he never existed.
This was the only definite in his chaotic life, the only upstanding truth that would deliver in the end. And all he had to do was wait…wait for the peace he longed for. He would no longer feel this pain, or experience this terrible, cruel reality that kept him from the ones he loved. Only…have to wait…
Some hours passed, and as Sephiroth floated in between sleep and awake, he was barely aware of his surroundings. The rain stopped, but the cold that clung to him only dug deeper into his body. On the verge of unconsciousness, his lips blue from hypothermia, he finally closed his eyes and sighed. It was a slow, drawn out breath, the last breath of the living, and he knew nothing else.
There was an air of finality in the atmosphere, but that did not concern her. Stepping as softly as a fleet-footed deer, her eyes focused on the figure wrapped in sheets on the bed, a smile came to her lips. She could feel him letting go, and she knew she had to act quickly. Not yet, my love…not yet.
Standing over him now, she slowly settled onto the bed and rolled him over. His skin was so cold, yet she did not shiver. Lifting his upper body and situating his head so that it lay against her bosom, she wrapped one arm around his shoulders as the other stroked his face. Each time she ran her fingers across his skin, color returned to his features and the cold faded.
He stirred slightly in her arms, furrowing his brow in confusion. She continued to caress his skin, staring down at his face with all the love she still bore him.
"Come back, Sephiroth," she whispered. The sensation of her hand on his skin caused him to open his eyes at last. He fixed his unfocused gaze on nothing, and a flicker of disappointment entered his eyes. At that moment her hand came to a rest on his cheek, and he gasped softly at inhaling her scent. Jasmine.
Shifting his gaze so that it rested on her face, awe surfaced in his ice blue eyes. It was true. She was here, and she was going to take him home.
Pulling his hand free from the soaked sheet, he slowly reached for her face. She continued to smile at him fondly, her eyes watering when his hand came into contact with her skin. His eyes watered, and he choked back a grateful sob.
"Jeanette," Sephiroth said, cupping the side of her face as tears spilled from his eyes. Jeanette nodded, the smile never straying from her lips. In a flourish he sat up, pulling her into his arms and holding her so tightly he felt she would shatter. He wept into her hair, his head firmly nestled on her shoulder.
"You came back to me…you came back…" he murmured in between his sobs, pulling away to stare into her eyes. He held her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that lined her cheeks. He couldn't stop staring at her, couldn't believe she was actually here. It had been too long since he held her last!
"Everything will be all right," Jeanette said gently, running her hand down the side of his face. Sephiroth pulled her to him again, keeping one hand on the back of her head as he inhaled her scent. Tears continued to fall from his eyes.
"We can be together again…I've missed you so much…I- I need to be with you so badly," he said, squeezing his eyes shut. Jeanette ran her hands up his bare back, brushing past the wing that did not alarm her in the least.
"I want that more than anything, my love. But it can't happen, at least not yet."
Sephiroth pulled away, staring incredulously into her shimmering violet eyes. He noticed the white dress she wore, how the collar sloped in an arc across her bosom, how her hair was as full and vibrant as it had ever been. There was such peace behind her eyes, and something else. Seeing it drove a spear of terror through Sephiroth's heart, and he shook his head.
"No…I can't lose you again!" he cried, leaning forward to claim her mouth with his. Jeanette clutched her to him, allowing her hands to roam the bare flesh of his back before returning to hold either side of his head. The sheer passion of Sephiroth overwhelmed her, and she wept silently.
"Sephiroth, my love, listen to me," Jeanette began, breathless after pulling away to stare into his eyes. In his gaze she saw desperation, hope, and need. It was the need that drove speech from her, and she took his face in her hands. He kissed her first, crushing her to him with urgency. All he wanted was to remain with her forever. Everything else was meaningless.
Jeanette, with a great deal of reluctance, managed to pull away from his heated kisses. Tears shone in her eyes as she pressed her forehead against his, and they rolled off the end of her nose to drip onto the bed below.
"You never lost me, Sephiroth. I was always with you, even when we were forced apart. At first all I wanted was to return to you, but I couldn't. It was for our son that I carried on. I could never abandon him, Sephiroth…not your son," she explained softly, closing her eyes when he pulled her to him in a tight embrace.
She rested her head on his shoulder, and wisps of his mussed silver hair tickled her face. Sephiroth's voice was laced with despair as he spoke, and his arms remained locked around her.
"I don't have the will anymore…I'm so empty…I don't even have…our son…" Sephiroth replied, bowing his head. A smile came to Jeanette's face as she snuggled closer to him, enjoying the strength of his arms around her.
"Our son still lives," she whispered. Her words stilled Sephiroth's tears, and he pulled away to stare down into her eyes. She smiled again and nodded.
"Yes, Sephiroth. Riku is alive, and he needs you like he's never needed you before. I blame myself for keeping him from you, but I did what I had to do to ensure his safety. So you see," she continued, reaching up to wipe away the tears that lingered on his face. She cupped his cheek tenderly.
"You must find him. Only you can heal his heart, just as he will heal yours. That's why I came here…I had to bring you back, for his sake," she finished. Sephiroth looked away, his gaze fixed on nothing. He thought about the detailed journal she had dedicated to Riku, of how she wanted him to experience it as though he were there.
Riku…his son, his pride, and his joy. There were fewer things he anticipated more than the jubilant cry of his son as he raced to greet him. He could remember sitting on the floor of Riku's room, helping him put puzzles together or reading him a story while Jeanette rested. There had been a great deal of determination in his son, who never let a task bog him down.
During a trickier puzzle, when Sephiroth reached to help, Riku turned to him and shook his head. His words brought a rush of pride to his father.
"I can do it, Dada."
At that moment Sephiroth knew what sort of man his son would be. Undaunted by opposition, intelligent beyond his years and possessing his mother's stubbornness, he knew very little would dissuade him from accomplishing anything he set his mind to.
Shame entered Sephiroth's eyes and he lowered his head, unable to look Jeanette in the face. She brought her hands to a rest on his shoulders, her warm touch comforting even though he felt horrible.
"Oh, Jeanette, forgive me…and after all you did to keep him safe…what I did when you disappeared, what I thought…and now, I was just about ready to abandon him…" he said, closing his eyes on tears of regret. Jeanette enveloped him in her arms, shushing him with words of endearment even when he choked out her name.
Her love filled him with warmth, chasing away the cold that had almost claimed him, chasing away the anger he had toward himself. It exploded in and around his senses, falling over his body like a protective shroud. He melted in the experience of it, wanting to drown in her love for all time.
But he couldn't. The knowledge that their son needed him rekindled the desire to live, and at last he understood what had kept him tethered to life. Pulling away, staring down into Jeanette's lovely features and smiling, he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.
"Jeanette…your strength has always been mine. Without you, I am nothing. I love you so much," he said, leaning over to kiss her tenderly. She returned it, winding her arms around his neck. Even after all this time, she never forgot how he felt, tasted, or smelled. It warmed her heart.
He pulled away, wanting to hold onto this moment for as long as he could. Already he could feel his strength returning, as well as his awareness. It felt as if he had woken up from a deep sleep from which there was no escape, but Jeanette had saved him. Again.
"I will love you always, Sephiroth. Regardless of what you did, that has never changed. Hold onto it, my darling…keep our love burning strong in your heart," Jeanette said, taking hold of his face and bringing it to hers again.
When she placed her lips over his, a burst of energy surged within Sephiroth. It coursed through him with the speed of light, casting aside the darkness that chained him. He reached to hold onto her, and his hands merely passed through her body. A sense of desperation came over him, and he deepened the kiss. Just a little longer, Jeanette…
But she was slipping from his arms, even though they were still kissing. At length she released him, her tears shining paths down her diaphanous face. She reached for Sephiroth one last time, the smile on her face unmoving even though she spoke.
"I love you so very much…Riku is close by…I'll be waiting for you," she whispered.
"Jeanette, wait-" Sephiroth was cut off when light washed over him, temporarily blinding him. He felt himself being pulled back to his body, and as he went he closed his eyes on tears. Jeanette…thank you, for everything…
Riku's head jerked up, an inexplicable sense of the unknown hanging in the air. The atmosphere somehow…felt different, and he couldn't understand why. Nor did he understand the sudden increase of his heartbeat. It beat so rapidly the sound thundered in his ears.
He crossed over to the edge, preparing himself to jump when he saw a glimpse of white. He whirled around, eyes narrowing. Blurred reflections of the next building over shimmered on the rain-soaked surface, nothing else. His breathing shallow, every muscle in his body tense, Riku took two steps forward. He was about halfway across the rooftop when he froze at the sound of his name. It was a barely audible whisper, yet he would have recognized that voice anywhere.
Riku turned to his left upon hearing it again, a soft gasp passing his lips at what he saw. The rational part of his mind didn't believe this was possible, while another, younger part of him rejoiced in it. The figure in white, possessed of features firmly embedded in his heart, stood a short distance away, violet eyes shining with love. Riku swallowed, finding himself tongue-tied. Jeanette smiled at him.
"There is someone nearby who needs you, Riku," she began. Her statement returned his powers of speech, but all he managed was a confused expression of, "Mom?"
Jeanette's smile did not waver as she approached. Once she stood before him she brought her hand up to his cheek, her palm surprisingly warm against his skin. Her gaze then went to his blindfold, and he hastily turned his head. The gentle pressure of her hand urged Riku to face her, her smile softening as she wiped his tears away.
"It's all right. You won't be alone anymore," she continued. Riku's throat tightened. He wanted to embrace her and sob away his hurt in her arms. But all he did was stare at her, his body unresponsive to this desire. Jeanette's hand went from his cheek to his brow, where she pushed back his unruly bangs to plant a gentle kiss there. Riku's sobs nearly broke free, evidenced only by the way he trembled. When she drew back he noted her body was limned by white light.
"Follow your heart, Riku. It will lead you where you need to be," she whispered before beginning to fade. Riku finally broke free from his paralysis and reached for her.
"Mom, wait," he called weakly, falling silent when she vanished. Slowly he lowered his hand, then his gaze as he swallowed past the lump in his throat. Suddenly his pronouncement, spoken from the heart in the wake of losing her, echoed in his mind. Mama stopped living. I want to go where she went. It was both frightening and perfectly natural for him to want to do just that, yet that wasn't why she came to him.
Riku heaved a sigh before turning from where she once stood. His eyes absently watched the street as he mulled over what his mother told him. Someone dear to him was nearby? How was that possible? Here there was no one but the Heartless. He lifted his head. Maybe she didn't mean in this place. Determined to discover the meaning behind his mother's words Riku leapt off the building, steering his descent with admirable control before touching ground. He would not stay here then. What awaited him lay beyond this place.
Riku walked down the darkened street, his every step filled with purpose. Yet as he passed the opening of an alleyway his heartbeat escalated. He stopped suddenly, his gaze fixed on what he saw there.
When Sephiroth regained his senses, he was lying on the bed in the old house alone, but no longer shivering. Filled with renewed vigor, he hastily dressed and left, seeking his son. With only Jeanette's vague instructions to go by, Sephiroth had no choice but to depend on his own power. It was the very same that had helped him elude death time and again, that brought him to Destiny Islands because Jeanette's presence was still very strong, and ultimately led him to this desolate city. He wanted to believe it had been his want for Jeanette again, but he knew better. Riku had drawn him here. He was sure of it.
Stumbling slightly through the streets, his chest wound aching, Sephiroth took to keeping his left arm draped over it. Blood began to seep through the dirtied bandages, running down his chest like jagged veins. Using the side of the buildings he happened by as a crutch, Sephiroth clenched his teeth against the painful onslaught. His wing jerked each time he was forced to stop, reopening the wound there and adding to his discomfort. But he had to continue. He had to find Riku, and he wouldn't stop until he did.
Stretching his power outward, he began feeling for weaknesses in the very fabric of the world. It was taxing on him due to the state of his physical condition, but it didn't deter him. If Riku were not here, he would simply continue the search elsewhere. I must do this…Jeanette, give me strength…
Sephiroth suddenly collapsed after passing by the entrance to an alleyway, the pain too severe for him to go on. Bowed as he was on his hands and knees, panting for breath, he did not see the figure materialize out of the shadows.
Even though the figure had just collapsed as if weakened, Riku raised his Keyblade defensively. His body was rigid with wariness, for just as the stranger passed beneath the still-glowing sign of the theater, he caught a glimpse of silver hair. Riku's first thoughts were erratic. No, it can't be…he's dead!
But there was something very different about this silver-haired stranger, one that brought confusion to his eyes. Ansem did not have the bearing this stranger did. This stranger was seeking something, for he could feel it in his soul. It triggered something in his heart, which accounted for him going to the stranger's aide.
"Are you all right?" Riku asked, kneeling and offering his free hand. Situated as they were beneath the light, Riku saw for certain that it wasn't Ansem. The kneeling man was clad entirely in black, a single navy wing unfurling from his right shoulder. In the pink, neon light Riku saw the glisten of blood at the base of the wing and wondered if he had been injured by a Heartless.
The man slowly lifted his head, but he did not look up at Riku. Instead he gathered his left arm closer to his body and emitted a small, painful groan. Something about Riku forced speech past his lips, something he couldn't understand.
"Do…do I…?" the man said in obvious confusion before at last lifting his head. As Riku stared into the haunted features of the man, his heart skipped a beat. His mind raced the longer he watched the play of emotions on that face. No…can it be?
Sephiroth was at a loss for words. He wasn't sure who was kneeling before him, but the sense of familiarity that emanated from him could not be denied. Sephiroth would have been able to identify him anywhere. He felt it in his soul.
"You…you can't possibly be…" he began, swallowing. Riku watched him oddly, experiencing the same familiarity from Sephiroth yet unable to understand why. Some hope entered Sephiroth's haunted gaze, and he spoke again.
"Riku? Is that you?" Sephiroth asked in just above a whisper. Hearing his name spoken, and with such hope and endearment, forced Riku to drop the helping hand he had offered. He shot to his feet and backed away. He watched silently as Sephiroth assumed his feet, his left arm still draped around his middle. Tears had developed in his eyes as he reached for Riku with his other hand.
"It is…at last…" he went on. Riku's heart had doubled its usual pace, thundering in his ears and roaring in his veins with such force he felt his skin grow hot. He couldn't stop staring at the other's eyes…eyes the exact same shade as his.
"How do you know my name? Who are you? How did you get here?" Riku demanded shakily, hating how his voice broke. Sephiroth kept his hand out to Riku, the hope never leaving his gaze.
"I'm not sure how I got here…what matters is that I am…Jeanette, you were right…"
The name of his mother stilled Riku's breathing, his very heartbeat. His eyes were the size of saucers behind the blindfold, and, swallowing, looked over the man again. It seemed everything came into perspective at that moment, with all his memories merging into one. He didn't even realize he had started crying. The face in the photograph was staring at him, and very, very real. The eyes, the hair, the sharp features, everything. Riku stepped closer to him, his voice trembling as he said in a soft whisper,
"…Father?"
The word hung in the air between them with a certainty both felt. Neither of them said anything, simply too stunned to react to the circumstances that brought them together at last. It was Sephiroth who moved first, and unconsciously Riku had drawn closer. The two stood about a foot apart, father and son, ice blue eyes meeting ice blue eyes, until Sephiroth slowly, carefully, drew Riku into his embrace. Riku went to his father with all the trust he ever had, leaning his head against Sephiroth's shoulder. Sephiroth brought his hand up to touch the back of his son's head, his black glove fairly glowing against Riku's silver hair.
"Riku…I thought you were lost forever," Sephiroth whispered. Riku wrapped his arms around Sephiroth shakily, for a plague of emotions had come over him. Tears continued to roll down his cheeks, and he fought against completely breaking down. He couldn't believe it. His father, the man he had sought for so long, was here. This is what you meant...Mom...thank you.
Holding his son as he was, Sephiroth felt as if he had accomplished the one and only thing that mattered most. All he cared about was this moment, and the sheer relief at knowing a link to his beloved Jeanette existed. For the first time in years Sephiroth was happy again.
"I…I looked for you. I searched worlds…you were the reason…I left…" Riku began, his voice muffled. He tightened his hold on Sephiroth as he bit his bottom lip, fighting the sobs that were gathering in his throat. Sephiroth was also crying, and his tears rolled off his cheeks to land on the top of Riku's head.
"I just wanted to find you…I had to, so Mom…so Mom could be happy again," Riku continued brokenly, his body trembling in his father's embrace. Sephiroth's eyes slid closed at the mention of Jeanette. Memories of how wonderful it had been seeing her again, to hold and kiss her, to hear her voice proclaim her love for him, caused his chest to tighten.
"…but Mom died…and, and I was alone…I knew you were alive…I never stopped looking-"
"Riku," Sephiroth said softly, but Riku didn't hear him. He finally broke down, releasing years of pent-up emotions concerning his father. Sephiroth let him cry, holding him tightly when he released one violent sob after another. He lowered his head so that it was resting near Riku's when he cried for Jeanette, bringing back his own heartache. He was witnessing what Jeanette's death and his disappearance had done to Riku, and Sephiroth vowed to make amends.
"I n-never forgot you…not once…all-all I ever wanted was to-to see you a-again…because I lo-loved you so much and…and I m-missed you," Riku managed, his arms like a vice around his father's neck. Sephiroth closed his eyes, touched beyond words by his confessions.
After some time Riku's weeping subsided, his eyes stinging from his tears and throat aching from the violent sobs that had racked his body. Drawing slightly away from Sephiroth, who still held him gently, the light played upon the tie of his blindfold. It caught Sephiroth's attention.
"Why do you cover your eyes, Riku?" he asked softly. Riku froze. He could feel Sephiroth's inquisitive gaze on him, and shame washed over him like a tidal wave. More tears filled his eyes, and he kept his head lowered.
"Riku?" Sephiroth asked again, confused by his son's silence. Several moments passed, and Sephiroth slowly undid the knot of the blindfold. Riku didn't bother stopping him, yet he turned away when his father successfully removed it.
"What is it? What's wrong with your eyes?" Sephiroth asked, placing his hand on his son's shoulder. Riku kept his back to his father, unable to answer him. He looked up into the black sky, his tears sliding down his cheeks. When he did speak, his voice was low in pitch, and traced with deep shame.
"Father…I wear the blindfold because of what I've seen," he began. Sephiroth regarded him curiously, the material still within his grasp.
"What you've seen?" he echoed quietly. Riku bowed his head.
"I've seen things…done things…that turned me into something…else," he finally said, his shoulders drooping at his words. Sephiroth's heart went out to him, even as he remembered a haunted phrase of his own. Am I the same as these monsters? Was I created this way too?
Pushing the memory to the back of his mind, Sephiroth slowly, gently turned Riku around. His son still kept his head down, but after a time he looked up. The moment he did Sephiroth understood.
Where he should have seen a pair of eyes the same color as his own, Sephiroth saw something altogether different. Instead of the blue hue he remembered, Riku's eyes now were cast in a bright yellow glow. The inherit light seemed to darken everything else about his features save his eyes.
"I'll never be human again," Riku said softly, tears shining on his pale cheeks. Sephiroth swallowed, seeing how fate had nearly put them through the same test.
"No, Riku. It doesn't mean that at all," he said somberly, handing his son the blindfold. Riku took it, but hesitated in replacing it.
"Then what does it mean?" he asked, bitterness evident in his voice. Sephiroth glanced over at the injured wing at his back and heaved a sigh.
"It means that some choices we make can never be forgotten. All we can hope for is atonement," he replied. Riku leveled his gaze on his father's wing, seeing that they shared something else in common. Just as he was about to replace the blindfold Sephiroth reached out to touch his son's arm.
"You don't have to hide your eyes from me. I can see your mother in them," he said softly. Riku's face fell, and he swallowed.
"Father, about Mom-"
"I know, Riku. I know," Sephiroth interrupted, his voice lowering in pitch as the heartache returned. Silence fell between them before Riku lifted his tear-filled gaze to his father. Sephiroth drew his son into another embrace, closing his eyes and releasing a trembling, yet relieved sigh.
"I'm so glad I found you. I love you, Riku," Sephiroth whispered. Riku tightened his hold on his father. It didn't matter that the two of them were far from home, or that the Heartless could easily overcome them. All that mattered was the fact that they had found one another at last, and he knew Jeanette was watching over them, from wherever she was.