'Sup everyone... I'm back. I'm kind of bored and it's snowing... again... so I decided why not post?

I was listening to "Night of Seclusion" from Crisis Core while I wrote this. It's a good song, but kind of depressing...

On another note - Disclaimer: I don't own anything from this story, the characters and stuff all belong to Square Enix. Also this chapter is shorter than the others. And I don't know if everyone ever will like it, but I don't care.

Thank you to all reviewers and followers and whatnot! :D

~~~~Chapter IX~~~~

Yet another morning came to the Forgotten City, this time without incident. Still, the conversation with Cloud stayed in Aerith's head like a fog veiling her thoughts.

She wasn't the only one with things on her mind. Despite the way his words had sounded so sure yesterday, so concrete, Sephiroth seemed distant. He never noticed Aerith's own worried demeanor, nor did he seem suspicious toward her.

In a way, that worried Aerith. What was he thinking about? During a moment of silence she worked up all of her courage and asked him.

"Sephiroth," she asked softly, "what's going on?"

"Nothing," Sephiroth answered. He didn't face her.

Aerith felt tears prick at her eyes. Something was wrong—even Cloud had said so. But Sephiroth wouldn't even talk to her about it?

She couldn't find words to express her feelings, so she turned and walked out of the room.

The day passed quietly. Aerith found small ways to keep busy, repairing her worn clothing and attempting conversation with Sephiroth. But he still said little. She felt a growing sense of dread envelop her as the hours passed.

Night fell swiftly, the darkness taking over the sky above the Forgotten City like a blot of ink. Aerith sat on the edge of her bed and stared out the window, wondering vaguely where Sephiroth was. She hadn't seen him in at least an hour. She strode closer to the window, anticipating seeing him outside the house staring at the crater somewhere beyond.

She was right. There he stood—motionless and with his gaze fixed on the crater. But then, slowly, his hands moved from his sides and faced the blue-black sky, palms up.

Fear tore through every inch of Aerith's body. She knew what had happened, and why Cloud had told her about the Lifestream, and why Sephiroth hadn't talked to her—all in half a second. Her legs took her down the stairs and outside to where he stood while her mind raced, trying to come up with a plan.

His sword materialized in a flood of teal light and fell into his hands.

"Sephiroth!" Aerith shouted desperately. He turned to face her, his eyes glowing and a menacing smirk playing on his lips.

"What are you doing?" she shouted, though she knew it was no use.

"I am becoming one with the Planet," he hissed.

Aerith was just steps away from him when she stopped. Her heart leaped into her throat as she remembered.

If it ever happens again, you have to kill me.

She struggled to keep her knees from buckling underneath her.

No. I won't. I can't.

He stepped closer, the Mako shine of his blade blinding her, enchanting her. As he lowered it her gaze shifted to his eyes—eyes the color of Mako, the hardness of steel, bloodshot to a point of no return. She stared into them. Pleaded with him. Hoped he would snap out of it. But her gaze didn't penetrate the hold that it had on him.

The hold that Jenova had on him.

Tears sprang to her eyes, and she let them fall. They slid down her cheeks, cold as ice, but she didn't bother to wipe them away.

In any other situation, she thought, Sephiroth might have tried to brush them away for her. This was not any other situation. He took a few steps closer, and his blade came to rest on the soft skin of her throat. The metal was cool and sharp against her skin. Her breath hitched in her throat as she imagined it pressing in deeper, piercing the flesh, drawing blood.

"I will not let this happen. Sephiroth, I am not going to kill you," Aerith said, her voice a hoarse whisper. "I promise you I will be the one to die first!"

The words left her mouth sharply, and yet Sephiroth didn't react. His eyes burned into hers just as they had before. She felt his hand pull back ever so slightly, and at first she thought he was going to step away and finally let go, but then she realized it was because he was going to push his weapon forward and finish her.

She was going to die.

Aerith closed her eyes, causing another tear to escape and trail down her cheek. She expected to feel the bite of the blade against her flesh. She braced herself for it. She craved it—because without it there was only that waiting, that tension, that terror.

But it was then that Sephiroth coughed, breaking the silence. He coughed, and he collapsed to his knees in front of her, dropping his sword. The rattle of metal against stone sounded like the noise Aerith imagined she would make, were she to shatter at that very moment.

"Aerith…" Sephiroth gasped. His hand was in his hair, the black of his gloves intertwining with long strands of metallic silver. Then it moved, gestured to the sword in front of him. "Do it."

It seemed he had used his last shard of strength. Sephiroth crumpled, his hands gripping the ground beneath him. His whole body was shaking. He was fighting it—fighting Jenova—but it was winning.

"Sephiroth, I can't." The words squeaked out of her mouth, and she wrapped her arms around her stomach, trying to hold herself together. She could break any moment now, and she knew it. She felt like she was just trying to delay the inevitable.

But Sephiroth had nothing more to say to her. He collapsed into a coughing fit on the ground, his body shuddering with the force of the attacks. When he looked stable again, his gaze flitted sharply up to meet hers, and she saw the two entities clash in his eyes. The Mako, swirling behind his teal irises, began to crush out the guilt and the fear that she could still see in his gaze. She pressed her trembling lips together and reached for the sword at her feet.

Sephiroth's hand shot out, latching onto her ankle, his fingers curling around her leg. She felt his grasp cutting off the flow of blood, and she forced herself to realize this was not really Sephiroth. This was Jenova, whom Sephiroth could never escape.

If she didn't bring an end to Sephiroth, Jenova would bring an end to her. And Sephiroth had asked first.

Aerith picked up the sword, the sword wavering in her grip. Her heart was pounding.

Below her, Sephiroth's breathing was ragged, and she could feel his hand clenching tighter around her ankle. There was no trace of the gentle touch he had used once with her. Which meant it was very likely that there was no trace left of the man who was Sephiroth—who was her Sephiroth.

She held his sword up over her head, the blade pointing down toward the ground, toward Sephiroth, and aimed.

With one last burst of courage, she brought it down.

Sephiroth screamed. It started as a gasp that came from somewhere deep and scratchy, and then it escalated into a real scream that set the air around Aerith vibrating. Gradually it fizzled out as his strength left him and ended as a whisper. A whisper that formed into the word "Aerith" and a shuddering breath that told Aerith all she needed to know.

He slumped to the ground at Aerith's feet, letting go of her, his sword vanishing in a spark of blue-green light. Aerith's legs gave out and she fell with him. She crashed into his lifeless body, her hands resting on his shoulders, her mouth pressing against his hair. "Sephiroth," she whispered to him. "What have I done?"

Her voice tore her throat as it lifted into a ragged scream: "Sephiroth!"

For what seemed like an eternity, Aerith's sobs were all that broke the air around them. But then the sound of footsteps clashed with the waning sound of her crying, and finally, Aerith turned and looked up into the eyes of another SOLDIER, these ones pure and bright blue. They belonged to a face she had abandoned once—no, more than that—before. They belonged to a blond-haired boy, Sephiroth's opposite, Aerith's savior.

"Cloud," she whispered.

"Aerith," was all he said back.