Chapter 4

He couldn't be sure how much time had passed or how much water he'd swallowed, but when the rebels finally decided to take him back to the cell, Sephiroth had bitten through his tongue. He hadn't told them anything, hadn't screamed. Giving them such satisfaction was unacceptable. Still, it was only through sheer will that he could walk under his own power.

"In." One of the six guards escorting him opened the door. The smell of cold copper flooded his senses. His eyes flew open.

"Where is she?" he demanded. Blood pooled on the concrete in random splotches, connected by drips and trails, footprints too large to be a woman's. Her poncho lay crumpled in blood, its fringe stuck in some of the pools next to clumps of black hair and sludge. A man's body lay in a heap right in front of the door.

Fire erupted in his chest and he whirled.

"Where is she?"

The guards pounced on him. Something hit his head. He staggered and they used that second to dry-stun him, dragging him down the hall. More rebels rushed to help, his half-conscious struggling still enough to break bone. More shocks. More desperate blows to the head. He fought through it all but he was rapidly losing and they all knew it.

At last, they shoved him into a different cell. Someone bound his eyes. Another gagged him while still more grabbed his arms and legs. Metal scraped, chains, right before heavy manacles clasped his wrists and ankles. They forced him to his knees, bent him forward, and yanked his arms behind him.

"Higher." That insolent brat. "Bind his arms higher."

More chains were wrapped up his elbows and forearms. The gag tightened. Then he felt a hand jerk his head back and cold steel clamped around his neck.

Needles dug into his arms. Blades sank into his flesh. They dug around, pulled nerves out with tweezers, poured acid into open wounds—

"We were going to be nice," the brat whispered. Sephiroth strained towards the voice, imagining the sick crack of bones and cartilage under his hands.

"We were going to send her back with your head, unharmed. But it's too late for

that now. She fought us."

Sephiroth jerked his head. No. No, not like this. Oh goddess, what happened to her? If she fought, if they decided to try and break her to get the answers they needed…He knew she would be in danger but he didn't think—they still needed the access codes, still needed him to cooperate.

"Pleasant dreams, General."

The bastard smacked his face a couple times then he heard the room empty, leaving him to the sound of his harsh breaths echoing against the walls. Dead. Yanna was—no. It was just as plausible for her to be hurt or moved and they were just pulling one over on him. But there was so much blood…

His throat tightened and he forced himself to breathe. If she was alive, he would find her and break out of this hellhole. If not…He focused on the pain in his tongue, swallowed what blood hadn't clotted, and started testing the strength of the chains.

?

Sephiroth jerked back to awareness when a massive explosion rocked the compound. He tilted his head, listening. Panicked yells and wild alarms rang out through the halls.

"What the—" One of the guards at his door cocked his automatic.

"All units to the armory," crackled the radio.

"Everyone?" The guard asked.

"You go," the other guard said. "I'll stay here. Hurry!"

Thumping boots retreated and Sephiroth threw himself against the chains. Slowly, too slowly, the links holding him down started to bend. Flexing his hands, he started working his arms against the metal straps.

Come on, come on, come on.

"Hey!" The remaining guard brought his gun up to bear. "Hey, stop!"

Bullets ricocheted, something hit the ground. The guard walked away. A second later, there was a sick gurgle and something much bigger fell.

"Sephiroth?"

He slumped forward and didn't bother to sit up when the heavy door swung open. Slender fingers pulled off the blindfold and he blinked at the harsh light.

"Are you okay?" Yanna hastily undid the gag. Bruises marred her neck and wrists, one eye was almost swollen shut, her nose bled, and her lip was busted. He let the rage build, taking refuge in the fire.

"What happened?"

"They hit me," she said, a ring of keys rattling in her hands. She fumbled only a second before opening the dozen or so locks surrounding him.

"I managed to stab one but they took your knife. I'm sorry. I'll pay for it."

"Nevermind."

She freed his arms and he immediately ripped off the metal collar.

"Are you hurt otherwise?" he asked.

"No. I found your sword but I can't find the key to the room."

Sephiroth got to his feet.

"I don't need keys."

?

He swept through like a storm. Graceful, fluid, deadly, the silver demon never stopped, cutting down rebels Yanna hadn't even seen. It didn't matter that he was using scavenged weapons, didn't matter that he was barefoot in a compound he barely knew. Rebels fell to the rhythm of his strikes, littering their path with bodies that would not get up again. Yanna watched, breathless, as he maneuvered on need alone, dancing that delicate balance of defense and attack.

It was beautiful. So much so, Yanna nearly missed their turn.

"Left up ahead," she yelled. He barely acknowledged her, didn't need to, as he shot a rebel off a balcony and ushered her down the hall.

"His office," he sneered. "Of course."

Sephiroth broke the lock with one swift yank and shouldered open the door.

"Do you know where my belt is?" he asked.

"Yeah, over here." Yanna hurried to a cabinet and drew out his materia-studded belt and his coat while he stalked to the desk and quickly scanned the maps on top.

"Taking it with us?" she said, offering a bag.

"No need." He put on his belt and coat then grabbed Masamune. "Let's go."

The storm broke again, this time with the flash of materia. Yanna ran to keep up, a loud, hasty counterpoint to his calm stride. The rebels grew more frenzied and fired everything they had at the two making their way to the garage.

"You can drive?" he asked.

"Yeah."

Masamune flashed, deflecting what bullets dared, and the engine roared to life. A quick glance back showed rebels piling into the other vehicles.

"Quickly, Shiushan."

Clenching her jaw, Yanna stomped on the gas and they rumbled out of the compound. Sephiroth stood next to her, barely noticing the way the jeep flew over rocks and tree roots.

"Which way do I go?" she yelled over the wind.

"North, if you can."

"If I can't?" She yelped at a bullet hitting the sideview mirror.

"Huh." Energy hummed and she saw fireballs fly towards the rebels. The jeeps exploded in a hail of seared metal and pained screams.

"Bastards were actually trained," Sephiroth said, climbing into the passenger seat. "Are you hurt?"

"N-no."

"You can slow down."

"Right." She gave a jerky nod.

"Slow down, Shiushan."

The shaman took a deep breath and eased up on the gas.

"You've never been in a firefight, have you?" he asked.

"No, I've been in a firefight. As in a fight with fire. Sticks or branches with fire on the end of them or bowls with burning coals or even flaming swords or-or something. Not bombs and guns and—"

"Watch the tree."

"I got it!" She exhaled sharply. "Sorry."

"Stop the jeep."

"What?"

"Stop."

It took a few hundred yards for her to slow the jeep down enough to stop without flipping but she managed and let her forehead rest on the wheel.

"Shiushan."

She screamed, jumping at the general standing next to her with the driver's door open.

"H-how did you—"

"You can let go now." He forcibly pried her white-knuckled hands from the steering wheel. "Look at me."

She obeyed and followed his gloved finger as he moved it across his face.

"Any dizziness?" he asked.

"A little. We should get moving, General. They're bound to have—"

"Close your eyes." He held up his hand and a soft, green glow enveloped the leather. Yanna closed her eyes, sighing as gentle warmth crept over her skin. Bruises vanished, the persistent ache in her nose faded, and the cut in her lip healed with a weird itch that made her chew on it.

"Mmm, thank you." She smiled then frowned when Sephiroth's eyes narrowed. He grabbed the back of her neck, tilting her head back.

"What did they do?" Strong fingers touched her jaw, her cheek, the edge of her mouth. They came away with blood and she blushed, turning out of his grip.

"It's not mine," she said.

"What?"

"W-when they took away your knife, I couldn't move. They were holding my arms and legs down and tried to... so…I guess I bit one of them. I don't know which one."

"Bit him. Where?"

"In the neck, I think."

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow at her, the corner of his lips twitching a little.

"You ripped some fool's throat out with your teeth?"

Yanna looked down at her hands.

"I was scared."

The general pulled away, motioning her out of the jeep.

"Remind me never to anger you," he said. His glove glowed again, this time for himself, and he shook out his hair. "They'll have alerted the other bases by now. It would be better if we continued on foot and avoided the main roads."

"Other bases?" She fell into step on his right. "You mean, there are more?"

"Of course."

"You're not surprised."

"No." He glanced at her through his bangs. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm okay." She smiled a little, shrugged. "I'm sorry I couldn't get to you sooner."

"They said they killed you for fighting back."

"Please. I'm Kalani." Swallowing the awkward feeling in her gut, Yanna turned to look out at the forest. Massive trees rose from thick, waist-high underbrush, and she tightened her halter top and skirt.

"Do you know where we're going?" she asked.

"There should be a base on the other side of these mountains. I know the man that runs it, an imperial colonel from the war."

"And you trust him?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Another glance, this one slightly wary.

"I set a hard pace," he said.

"I live outside, General. I can keep up."

The look he gave her very clearly said 'we'll see' and he strode forward into the darkening forest.

?

To her credit, she did keep up for a fair distance but, as night closed in, she started hesitating. Her unenhanced eyes were wide and unseeing in the dark and he made a point of stepping a little harder, brushing plants a little louder. She adjusted as necessary, always on his right.

Not once did she suggest stopping for the night, though he could hear her labored breathing and heavy footfalls. She would need water soon, food, if he could get it. And a lean-to wouldn't be too hard to build but he could taste the storm in the air. There was no real way to hide from rain that blew sideways.

At length, the ground started falling away and he could just make out the rush of running water. He started hiking towards the noise.

"A river?" she asked. He grimaced at how loud her voice was.

"That's what it sounds like. Be careful."

"Yes, General."

They trudged on. Yanna stumbled a couple times, wide yawns stretching her jaws.

"We'll rest up ahead," he said quietly.

"Okay."

Presently, they came upon a decent sized river, wide enough for good fishing, rocky enough for bad swimming. Sephiroth led her further down the bank until he found a small cave.

"Here." He chanced a small fireball in his hand. "Inside."

Yanna crept passed him, nearly tripping on her skirt in her exhaustion, and climbed into the cave. He followed and sat down just as the sky opened. Sheets of chilling rain blurred their vision as they slid further into the cave. From the smell, whatever had lived here had long since gone. So much the better. He didn't enjoy the idea of dealing with snakebites too.

"Just in time," she murmured, staring out at the rain. "How long will we stay here?"

"Until the rain stops. No one goes out in the rain."

Yanna nodded and found a spot to curl up in with her back to the cave wall. He wasn't sure how she could get all 5'11'' of her in such a small space but she managed, even using some of her skirt as a blanket.

"Do you need me to do anything?" she asked.

"Sleep."

She yawned, wide and long like a big cat, and pillowed her head in her arm.

"Good night, General. I'm glad you're okay."

"Good night." Sephiroth shifted, placed himself between her and the cave entrance, and settled with Masamune across his chest. It would take at least until morning for any real search to be coordinated, longer for vehicles fighting the mud. They should have a good five or six hours before it got tricky.

A rueful smirk crossed his lips. "Tricky" meant something a little different to him than most people. He hoped she could cope. Of course, if the last few days had been any indication, she shouldn't have much of a problem.

The silver demon looked over at his charge, the now-clear caramel skin, the ebony hair marred with that one silver lock at her temple. Her face held no worry, despite what she'd gone through, despite being almost raped and having to kill at least two men. Despite his failure. Goddess, he could really use some—

He shook himself. It would do absolutely no good to dwell on what he could and could not have done back at the compound. So he folded his arms over Masamune, stared at the rain, and listened to the heartbeat that hadn't stopped.

?

"Shiushan."

Yanna took a deep breath and blinked at the early morning light.

"Time to go," said the General. She nodded and stretched some of the floor out of her back and neck while he climbed out of the cave. He offered his hand to help her down.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Four or five."

"And you're awake." She narrowed her eyes at him though, with the haze of not-lucid, it didn't have a lot of power. "You're a morning person."

"No." He sounded amused but she couldn't see his face for his hair. "I just have to be awake in the morning. I apologize in advance if I'm short with you. I'm decaffeinated."

She chuckled and started walking towards the river. After a few steps, she paused, glanced back at him. He blinked then nodded. She walked the rest of the way to splash her face and rinse out her mouth. The water tasted metallic, like copper. She didn't want to think of what that meant so she just took a couple drinks.

"Where are we?" she asked. Sephiroth beckoned her away from the shore and started hiking north east.

"In the jungle," he replied. "Come."

"Have they started following us yet?"

"They started hours ago."

Just the casual way he said it made chills shoot down her spine. She hurried to keep up with him, glancing around at the trees.

"Are we safe?"

Sephiroth made a deep sound somewhere between a chuckle and a snort.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Then we're safe."

She gave his back an exasperated look then settled into the easy, ground-eating wolf lope of her tribe with a quiet, travel song under her breath. Sephiroth glanced back only once before giving a short nod and picking up the pace.

They stopped when the sun was well on its way west. Yanna leaned heavily against a tree, her hair and top sticking to her skin, the cooling air burning her throat. Gaia, she was getting soft.

Sephiroth, meanwhile, looked perfect. Typical.

"We'll rest here," he said. "Gather what firewood you can."

"I can hunt."

"In a forest you know nothing about?"

Yanna glared at him but sighed and started hunting for dead wood. She heard him vanish into the dusk and tried to quell the indignation at not getting the food. He was right. She didn't know anything about Wutaian plants and wildlife. With her luck, she would probably pick something poisonous then she would be responsible for killing the single most powerful man in the world.

Suddenly, pain shot up her leg. She gasped, the wood falling to the ground. Another step and fire erupted in her shoulder. She hit her knees. Smoke filled her lungs. Gunfire ricocheted. She covered her ears, tears streaming down her face. Men, boys screamed through the darkness and she flinched when cannons erupted.

"—shan!"

Her ears rang. She curled over her knees.

Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!

"Yanna!" Strong hands hauled her to her feet.

"Seph—" She tried to focus, tried to steady herself in the onslaught of pain and death. Then he blinked and she locked onto his eyes. Emerald fire flooded her mouth, her lungs, burning away the noise. She shuddered at the intensity but his grip tightened on her shoulders.

"Yanna, what happened?"

She took a breath but it felt like shattered glass.

"Wha-what is this place?"

His eyes darkened and her chest buckled. She couldn't breathe, couldn't move. She could feel the fury in his touch, the disgust. Her mouth worked to apologize for whatever she'd done wrong, anything to make that anger go away.

"This is Fumikawa," he said. His voice rumbled in the pit of her stomach as he carefully let go of her arms.

"This was the culmination of a thousand bad decisions." The General released her from the fire, looking out at the large, barren clearing. Only a few hardy shrubs grew here, fewer animals dared to scurry. She sobbed at the feel of blood in the land, shifted her weight to get her feet off the ground.

"When I was deployed to Wutai, both sides had degenerated into a kill-or-be-killed mentality. There was nothing to do but end it." He nodded in the vague direction of the moon. "That's why they call me the Demon. That's why they hate me."

"You—"

"I did what was necessary to get as many of my men home as possible."

She flinched and stared at the ground. A second later, his boot stepped into her field of vision and she felt his warmth at her side.

"Come." His voice was much softer, if still taut with memories. "We should go."

Yanna let him lead her out of the clearing, his hand on her back to force her in front of him. She shivered, rubbed her arms, then wiped her eyes and tried to collect herself.

"Sorry," she muttered.

"Don't apologize." He bent to pick up the firewood she'd dropped.

"General—"

"Go."

Flushing with embarrassment, Yanna hurried to the spot he'd chosen for their camp. The small carcass of a bird lay off to the side and she went to dress it as best she could.

"You can make the fire?" she asked.

He summoned a small flame from the materia.

"I think so."

Soon the pile of wood crackled nicely under the roasting bird. Yanna sat, scraping the blood and fat out from under her nails, and stared at the fire.

"I didn't mean to frighten you." Sephiroth glanced at her from across the bird.

"I know." She tried a smile. "It was just a lot all at once."

"You saw it."

"Yes. Well, just pieces, really. Echoes. It's not like a spirit-dream. I can just…places with a lot of emotion, a lot of history like that, leave traces. It's like when you walk into a house and it feels wrong, and you have no idea that there was a murder there. You can feel it. Pain and anger are some of the strongest emotions so they linger the longest. And a place where a lot of people died…" She shrugged and smoothed her skirt. "There's a reason people think shaman are weird."

"It must be difficult."

"Sometimes. But if I don't do it, who else will?"

Sephiroth tilted his head. Somehow, that motion and the reflection of flames in his eyes made his gaze seem less intense.

"It's painful," he said. "Feeling death."

She waved her hand slightly.

"Part of the job."

"Kalani don't bury their dead."

"No." She frowned at the sudden shift. "Why?"

"We do. Part of the funeral is what they call an 'open casket.' The casket lid is left up so family members can say 'good-bye' to the dead before they're buried." His lips tightened. "War is…not kind to such a tradition. What you did for the men means a lot."

"The…Oh! Oh, I couldn't just leave them like that. I didn't offend you, did I? I didn't cast any spells or anything, nothing like in the rumors. I was just praying for their families. And the surgeons were working so hard on the others, I didn't want to be useless—"

"Shiushan." His eyelids lowered just enough to look gently amused. "You've done a great service to me and my men. I am in your debt."

Yanna opened her mouth but nothing came. Glancing down, she took a small stick and started poking the bird.

"It should be ready soon," she said. "Which piece do you want?"