Disclaimer: I own nothing. Death Note and Final Fantasy are property of their respective owners.
A/N: C'mon, review it already!
Son of A/N: This is one of my favorite chapters!
Son of the son of A/N: It's long but worth it! Love you Kefka!
Sephiroth Crescent followed Teru Mikami through the forests of Wu-Tai, towards the southern steppes of the mountain range. They followed the snaking line of a pathway on the high ridge above the shining band of the river where the crowd of refugees traveled towards the southern portions of Wu-tai.
Teru had spent the night in the temple. By morning, he was resolved to meet up with the refugees again and Sephiroth agreed to show him the way. On the way, Sephiroth introduced himself further. He explained that he was a soldier, that he had fought in the Wu-Tai war, and that he had come to live here after because, despite the nature of his time spent in Wu-Tai, Wu-Tai was the place he had always thought was most beautiful.
"I was a prosecutor, I think," Teru said. "I believed I was…but the life I remember doesn't make any sense. I find myself here, in Misgar, and everything here is clearly vivid and real. Midgar is not a dream, I can see that. But my other life has the same clarity and distinctness. They are both real, but they don't agree."
"And the truth cannot admit a material contradiction," Sephiroth said. "So one of your lives must be false. Or perhaps you are remembering a past incarnation?"
"I hadn't thought of that," Teru said. Sephiroth shaded his eyes, looking down towards the river.
"There," he said. "You can just see the movement of the refugees among the trees."
"Are you sure you wouldn't like to come with us?" Teru offered. "This place is lonely, and I know they'd welcome you."
"My appearance is very well known," Sephiroth said. "They would run in terror from me. No, I'm afraid I cannot stay with you all the way into the south. I would be recognized as soon as we reached any village. But I will stay with you a while. As far as the last ridge. It has been so long since I spoke to someone like me."
"What do you mean, 'like you?'" Teru asked, as they began to make their way down the ridge at an angle, so as to meet up with the travelers at the next juncture of the river. "I am not a soldier. I've never been in the army. I'm a swordsman, but it's a popular sport in Japan."
"Japan?" Sephiroth asked with mild curiosity. "Is that a village?"
"No," Teru said. "It is…was…it might be an island nation, like Wu-Tai." Sephiroth laughed softly.
"And this is the place that does not exist here, the place you think you are from?"
"That's right," Teru said, skidding and sending a shower of rocks down the cliffside as he began his descent. Sephiroth followed, and with practiced grace descended the cliff. He had braided his long silver hair, tucking it up into the hood of a linen parka. A mountain storm had gathered during the night, and both he and Teru wore extra clothing to fend off the rain. Gray strands of hair slipped free of Sephiroth's hood; silver, like the storm.
They reached the juncture of the river with the sloping ridge, where the road curved around the broad loop of the riverbend. They took shelter from the rain under the thick canopy of trees, by the water leaping and dancing with raindrops. When the band of people came into view, Teru got up, prepared to greet them. One of the men at the head of the group greeted him with a bow, smiling.
"We thought we had lost you, Mikami-san," he said.
"I got myself lost," Teru said, "but I found my way out again. I've brought someone—"
But where he turned to introduce him, Sephiroth had already vanished.
By nightfall, they stopped in the burned out ruins of a Wu-Taian monastery. Moss lay thick upon the walkways and in the dark halls, still ringing with forgotten prayers. The fireblack stones were cooled by rainwater, wrapped with green, silken vines; and above, the stars sang.