Unspoken
By mihoyonagi
Chapter 2: Contemplation
'Why is my body so stiff? If I am indeed alive, why do my limbs ache so terribly? And where on earth is that dreadful cold coming from?'
Sephiroth opened his eyes into the bright morning sun, but because it was such, he immediately forced his eyes closed again as the intensity of the star that heated his face continued to burn down upon him. Slowly, he forced his stiff body to obey the commands his mind was sending it, and, with quite a struggle, the general managed to sit up. Again, he opened his eyes to view the world around him, but was a tad smarter this time and lifted his lids slowly.
'Well no wonder I am so damn cold,' he thought to himself, inspecting his surroundings. 'I am sitting in a stream.' Had he the energy, the general would have growled. His inward grumbling, however, was cut short when something caught his attention. Only an arm's length away and slightly further up on shore was the flower girl that had saved him from hell. Half of her body lay in the cold stream, but she slept soundly, just as he had. Given both of their positions, Sephiroth could only see her profile. Her face was emotionless, and her hair cascaded about her small frame like the water in which the general sat in.
Sephiroth's eyes shrank into narrow slits as he looked upon her. Something was far from right, and he could tell. Her chest rose and fell in even breaths, but what air she did intake was shallow, and her breathing wasn't normal.
Her voice rang out in his ears; "Certain strings are attached- if I die, so do you. If you die, so do I."
She had given her birthright to save him, though it was he who damned them both in the first place, and he'd be damned again before he let something happen to her. With all the might he had in his stiff, unruly body, the general stood, ankle deep in cold, spring water. What his eyes met with when he stood nearly knocked him back onto the ground; there was a deep, bleeding gash on her chest. Her pink dress had already soaked up so much blood that it could no longer hold anymore. Deep pools of liquid crimson gathered in the creases and folds of the fabric wherever it could.
Something dawned on the general as he peered down at the girl before him. Looking down his own body, he realized he was shirtless and covered in his own blood. There wasn't a second thought given to why his body throbbed; they may have been brought back to the world of the living, but their bodies were still their own, and as such, they were as tattered and as torn as when their souls escaped them.
There wasn't a moment to spare. Sephiroth, though his body throbbed on a most painful level, gathered the young beauty in his arms and began walking upstream. Even if he had no idea where it was he was walking, or if there would even be help, he continued placing one foot in front of the other, dragging his sore body through the current of the icy water.
Sephiroth couldn't have given less of a thought over the matter of how long he had walked. Once he heard the soft hustle and bustle of a town, however, he knew his labor had paid off. Stumbling past he main gate of the city, he tried to call out for help. It wasn't an easy task for the general- help wasn't something he was accustomed to asking for. But he knew he was too weak to walk much father, and he couldn't deny the fact that the bloody girl in his arm needed medical attention immediately.
When he opened his mouth, only a cry of pain came out. Several of those in the market turned and gasped. One woman shrieked for a doctor, and several men dropped what they were doing and rushed in the direction of what Sephiroth could only hope was a hospital. Not having the strength to take anymore, he slumped to the ground, though he refused to let the pink and red bundle of life in his arms go.
He felt several pairs of strong hands grab his shoulders. "You're going to be alright," came unknown voices in all directions.
Everything, once more, became dark as pain swallowed up Sephiroth's world.
