There were tours plodding slowly up the Pilgrim's Trail that wound through the many statues and friezes cut into the sides of Da Chao. One could hear the yammer of the tour guides and the more anonymous grumble of their charges as they made their way forward, taking pictures every few feet. Hundreds of years ago, some enterprising monks had taken it into their heads to carve figures into the living rock of the dormant volcano that made up the tallest peak of the mountains. Rather than follow the photographing hordes, Sephiroth drew Elfe away from the main path, and down a much quieter dirt track.
"Used to be this was the only path to the Sacred Heights," he explained. "That's what 'Da Chao' means in Wutaian."
"Did you and the guys go up?" Elfe asked.
"We did," he confirmed. "There was a guerilla nest up there hiding in the monastery."
Elfe did not prompt him, to go on, afraid of what was coming next.
"We had our orders," he said softly, deep voice almost unheard above their own footsteps and the distant, incessant buzz of insects. "None of the guerillas were left alive. I didn't want to kill the monks, they were pacifists, and wouldn't fight, but they would happily shelter the next band of insurgents and I couldn't allow that."
He paused, lost in memories, and they walked on for a few minutes in silence.
"Did you know the mountain is as chiseled inside as it is outside? It's riddled with caves and tunnels. Some were carved, some are organic. The monks had dug themselves a hall, cells, even a temple, but we never made it inside. The minute I drew Masamune, they all stepped back forming a human wall between me and the rest of the cave. I swung, but all she hit was heat and thin air. All of them had burst into flames." He fell silent, took a breath. "That fire is still burning."
"What's why Shinra never managed to actually build a reactor here," Elfe said, taking up the tale. "Despite being a water diety, Leviathan's high place is Da Chao."
Although the monks had won that battle, Shinra had ultimately won the war. They could not pump Wutai's mako directly, so they'd forced the island to pay tribute in materia. Up until a few days ago, Wutai had still been occupied by Shinra forces left behind to oversee the collection of materia. Perhaps because its mako reserves had not been directly touched, the island seemed less depleted than the Eastern or Western continents.
Wutai had always been an example of noble defeat to Avalanche. A country that had remained true to its ideals and beliefs, and though it had suffered horribly, it had in the end kept Shinra from obtaining the thing it most desired. She had never thought about the human cost on Shinra's side. It had not occurred to her how deeply this trip might affect Sephiroth.
"We can go back," Elfe offered, suddenly regretting her request for a tour. "We don't have to go on."
Elfe wasn't sure knocking about the palace with nothing to do but dodge dirty looks would be any better, but it might prevent further unhappy memories.
"No, it's okay," Sephiroth said, visibly shaking himself. "I think like the restaurant, it'll do me good to see things are still standing. Besides," he added, a teasing slant to his smile, "I need to walk off our engagement feast."
She shoved him gently and he laughed, obediently stumbling to one side.
The forest seemed less oppressive now, though the air was heavy with the perspiration of so many trees. Large stones, heavily shrouded in moss, loomed just off the edge of the path. Someone had tied a ragged bandana about two-thirds of the way up one of the stones. Sephiroth stopped to inspect it.
"There's a Douso-jin under all this," he said, carefully pulling back a fern frond to reveal a primitive stone face. "A traveler's guardian. They watch the old path up the mountain."
"Shinra left a lot more standing than I thought," Elfe remarked, and regretted the words as soon as they'd left her mouth.
"There wasn't any point in destroying the cultural artifacts," Sephiroth shrugged. "These little totems weren't in the way. The mountain itself suffered minimal damage, it was only the people we hurt."
"Seph, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"
Sephiroth smiled gently. "I know. Forget it."
Taking her hand again, he pulled her along, and Elfe fell into step with him again.
The forgotten trail was less precipitous than the well-worn tourist path up the decorated side of the mountain. The monumental sculptures faced the sea, and as such bore the brunt of the sun and weather, so that only bare rock stood above the town. Sephiroth led them up through the foothills and onto the mountain proper up the leeward side. There were sculptures here too; older, more primitive, half-hidden by vegetation and covered in moss. Sheltered from the worst of the weather, the trail was shaded by trees and the height of the mountain itself. The temperature became more bearable even as they both grew warmer from the exertion of the climb. Neither of them were panting, but both were running with sweat by the time they stopped for a breather halfway up.
"I forgot how hot it can get," Sephiroth observed, trying to wipe his face with one hand. It didn't help much.
"I feel like one of those steamed buns your aunts make," Elfe agreed. "I don't suppose there are any ice cold mountain streams around?"
Sephiroth thought for a minute. "Everything's grown over so much, it's hard to tell. There is a water source up here, but I forget exactly where."
"Really?" Elfe visibly perked up at the possibility. Although she wasn't the least bit tired, she was hot and uncomfortable and this might be a mission, but it wasn't one that was supposed to involve sweltering to death in a jungle. "Where?"
"I think it's a little higher up," Sephiroth said. "This way."
The stream was closer than expected. A narrow gravel lane veered off from the main path and through a narrow cleft of stone. This widened into a deep basin that was fed by a slender waterfall that cascaded down the stones from a much higher elevation.
"It's beautiful," Elfe remarked, taking in the smooth, dark stone and the pool of water so clean and pure that it reflected the sun and overhanging cliffs in perfect detail.
"It's drinkable," Sephiroth told her. "I'm pretty sure it's snow runoff from the mountain peak. The one summer it nearly dried up."
This in mind, Elfe knelt down and splashed some of the water on her face. It was stingingly cold after the heavy heat of the forest. Sephiroth followed suit, setting aside Kunsel's ball cap and stripping off his shirt.
Elfe blinked, having not expected that. Her freshly cooled cheeks warmed again, but she did not look away. Deciding he might be onto something, Elfe pulled her shirt over her head as well. Her sport bra was dark-colored, and more modest than any two-piece bathing suit she'd ever seen. They were a couple now- and the thought was no less strange even after lunch with his family and riding herd on his brothers for months- she could look at him if she wanted to.
Despite walking next to him all day, she was reminded afresh of just how big he was. Not just tall, but broad and solid as well, he sometimes seemed like an entirely different creature. However, without the T-shirt, a handful of scars were visible, pulling him back down to the realm of mere mortals. The little vertical seam just above his belt line showed both before and behind. She had not been present when he'd impaled himself, but she had heard plenty, and spent a good three months dealing with the aftermath. The quartet of diagonal slashes in his left bicep, however, we as yet unknown in origin.
"How'd you manage that?" she asked. Most soldiers were all too eager to boast about battle scars. Sephiroth proved no different, though his smile was somewhat rueful.
"My second encounter with Chaos."
Elfe blinked. "Second?"
"When Zack, Cloud, and I found Vincent, we had to fight each of his Limit Breaks one right after the other. It wasn't easy, but we managed it. Chaos...manifested again later. That time I was on my own, and I knew Vincent was in there somewhere. I hesitated," he shrugged. "I kept that to remind me not to hold back, especially if it's someone I care about."
She nodded thoughtfully. Sephiroth was hopelessly attached to the Turk, and nothing she said or did was likely to change that. She wasn't sure she even wanted it to change. Valentine had issues to be sure, and while she still didn't like him much, she was no longer actively angry. It struck her as a needlessly hard lesson, but that was apparently the only way a soldier learned anything, herself included. The feeling of being watched made her look up. Sephiroth was staring at her.
"What?" she asked. Strangely, his cheeks colored and he dropped his gaze to study the ground.
"Sorry," he apologized. "I just, I never, that is...um…"
Despite her best efforts, Elfe couldn't help laughing a little. "It's okay," she assured him. "If I didn't want you to look, I'd have left my shirt on. Not like you're seeing too much more of me without it." Which was true enough. She had the lean, sparingly-proportioned body of a runner or swimmer. However, it seemed enough to capture Sephiroth's attention.
He looked up shyly, through his lashes, a smile tugging at his lips, and Elfe felt something inside melt. He'd already proved her wrong regarding the stories of his bloodlust. Evidently most of the rumors surrounding Sephiroth's name were just that. If his fanclub was to be believed, he was as exceptional behind closed doors as he was on the battlefield. Somehow, Elfe got the impression that such reports were based on speculation, or at the very least exaggeration. Everybody had at least one one proto-relationship as a teenager. She might not be the first to find out for sure, but she was probably among a very small, very privileged minority.
Although the sun was still high overhead, the cliffs and foliage provided some shade from its rays. The pool was ringed by solid rock, but stone gave way to sand and then soft grass and moss a few feet back. Standing, Elfe wandered back into the shadows of the gnarled trees and spread her damp shirt on a convenient branch. Sephiroth followed her, likewise hanging up his own T-shirt. For a moment they just looked at each other, awkwardness hanging between them as thick and oppressive as the humid summer air.
"This doesn't have to be weird," Elfe told him, stepping into his space. "We're not breaking any rules."
"I know," Sephiroth mumbled, trying hard to meet her eyes, but seemingly unable to stop himself looking away. "I just… I don't know what to do."
"You don't have to do anything if you don't want to," she assured him, though not without some measure of personal disappointment.
"Oh no I want to," Sephiroth said hurriedly. "But I'm not…"
"What do you want to do?" she asked, reaching to take his hands. He finally looked up, green eyes meeting blue.
"To start, I want to kiss you."
"Good," she said, stepping closer, "because I want to kiss you."