Final Fantasy VII: Another Side

By:

Mystwalker

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII.

A/N: I couldn't decide whether to write the Zerith interlude or the Sephissnei interlude first, so I left it up to a coin toss. Sephissnei won. Enjoy guys! The next few chapters will be a series of interludes, one for each group. Some may be long and some may be short, and the plot will resume once I get through all of them. I'll probably have more of these as the story progresses. Think of them as extra cutscenes some video games give you—minimal relation to the main plot, but chock full of character arc progression and development.

JazzQueen, it will take a while. But yes, eventually, Seph will warm up to them.

Riku Uzumaki, until it sticks. Or until Zack beats it into his head. Whichever comes first, lol.

Irish-Brigid, he's not surprised. It was more of a conversational 'oh really', followed up with asking her if she was scared to be leaving.

DJ Meltdown of Ground Xero, thanks! Glad you're enjoying it, and glad you liked the fight scene!

Anna Crosszeria, you'll see soon~

Ryuukoshi, yes he does. And since Seph/Cissnei won over Zack/Aerith in the coin toss I did before writing this, you actually get your wish first~

Furionknight and CupofTeaforAliceandHatter, thanks for the reviews! Glad you liked it!

XxXxX

Interlude 001: Sephiroth, Cissnei, Red XIII

Midgar's wasteland seemed to go on forever, a vast patch of desert that stretched on in all directions. Sephiroth had traveled to and from the Planet's largest city several times. He knew just how large the desert was, and just how long it would take them to get out of it. He knew that by sometime tomorrow afternoon, the barren earth would fade slowly into greenery, until they reached Kalm's outskirts by tomorrow night.

But knowing it and feeling it as he stared out at the wasteland in front of him were two completely different things.

He turned back, slowly making his way towards camp. Although they were far enough away that the city was nothing more than a glowing landmark in the distance, the sky was still blank, devoid of stars. It would take at least another day before they truly left Midgar's influence. He'd never thought about such things before. It surprised him that he was thinking of them now. Perhaps there was something to what Barret was always preaching after all. Perhaps they were killing the Planet.

Cissnei looked up as he stepped into the circle of light provided by their small fire. He had finally ordered her to start one, despite the danger that it might give away their position. It was still the dead of winter, and although all of them had the discipline to spend a night in the cold, there was really no reason to. Let Shinra come. He would be ready, although he had a feeling that after what had happened in the Building, they would not come after them tonight.

"Well?" she asked.

He paused for a moment, studying her. She was sitting with her knees pulled up close to her chest, a blanket draped loosely over her shoulders. A military supply pack lay on the ground a few feet from her, propped up against a rock. She was also alone, with no sign of their other companion in sight. He frowned.

"The area is secure," he said, walking over to her. "No sign of enemy pursuers for miles." He stopped, a few feet from her side. "Where's Red?"

"I sent him off to find food," said Cissnei, a faint smile appearing on her face as she looked out into the distance. "He looked like he needed to run."

"Hm."

He lowered himself to the ground, sitting down so that he was on the same side of the fire as her, but still far enough to keep his distance. He removed Masamune from his back, laying the sword by his side, with the hilt in reach of his left hand. Sephiroth sat there in silence for a moment, staring into the small, crackling fire. He could still feel the heat of the flames from his battle with Genesis—burning, consuming...

Just like Nibelheim.

Genesis had definitely gotten stronger. Had the battle continued, he honestly wouldn't be able to say which one of them would have won. He had finally gotten the strength he always craved.

But at what cost?

He squeezed his eyes shut, taking in a slow, deep breath. Genesis, Sector 7, the President, Angeal, the Ancients, Jenova...those thoughts swirled around inside his mind, overlapping each other until he couldn't sort out one from another. They pounded on the inside of his head like incessant drums, each one demanding that he address them right at that moment. His whole life, he had been trained to fight, to kill...

But he had never been trained to face this. Uncertainty. Self-doubt. He had always known who the enemy was...

...Always.

Him, standing in front of the President's chair, his sword in President Shinra's back...

He and Genesis, talking, smiling, teasing each other over something or another...

Angeal preaching about honor...

Himself, pushing Genesis through the open window as the two of them fell backwards into the night sky...

A Banora White, falling to the ground...

White feathers.

Nibelheim.

He opened his eyes slowly, staring into the heart of the fire. It burned and crackled, shooting embers into the wind.

"...My friend, the fates are cruel. There are no dreams...no honor remains..."

Cissnei blinked, looking over at him. "Hmm?" she asked.

He slowly shook his head, lifting his eyes from the fire. He looked up instead, feeling the cool wind on his face as he studied the blank night sky. "...Somehow, I was just reminded of that line," he said.

"I see..." she said. He glanced over at her. She was turning her shuriken over in her hands, painstakingly cleaning each of the points. Her hands moved quickly and meticulously, going through the routine motions with the sort of efficiency that came from years of training. It was something he was familiar with himself.

His brows rose. "...Aren't you going to say anything?" he asked.

"About the President?" asked Cissnei, looking up. Her hands never stilled, moving the cloth carefully around Rekka's blade and cleaning off the blood. He nodded, and she sighed, finishing her work and setting the shuriken and cloth aside. "Sephiroth, I'm a professional assassin," she said. "I've done worse things to better people. You're going to have to do more than that to disturb me."

"But..." he began.

"I know," she said, interrupting him. "It's different. But I understand why you did it." She wrapped her arms around her knees, staring into the fire. "I'm not going to vindicate you by telling you you did the right thing. You're the only one who can decide that."

He drew his right knee up, resting his gloved hand across it. His left hand he kept close to his sword, just in case. Sephiroth looked back into the flames. "...Can a monster do the right thing?" he asked.

Cissnei looked up at him, turning her head sharply in his direction. "You are not a monster," she said. "A monster would not spend four years in the mountains waiting for a chance to save his friend because of a promise he made to a dead man. A monster would not risk himself to save a woman he knows nothing about because she means something to someone he cares about. And a monster would not be so disturbed by the destruction of Sector 7 that he would feel the need to avenge them by killing the single most powerful man on the face of the Planet."

"I'm not human," said Sephiroth. "You saw—you know how I was created. I bear that thing...that creature's cells. And also..."

"...Don't fathers have the right to decide what's best for their children?"

He trailed off, his left hand clenching into a fist where she couldn't see. If he truly...if he had that man's blood in his veins...then he was truly damned.

"Wings don't make you a monster," said Cissnei heatedly. "S Cells, mako, strength...none of these things make you a monster. Who your father is..." She froze, as if realizing how much emotion was in her voice. She took a deep breath, slowly looking away from him and sitting back. She shook her head, and when she spoke next, her voice was quiet, but still carrying the same conviction she had spoken with earlier. "...Who your father is, shouldn't matter either. They are the monsters, Sephiroth. The ones who did this to you—to us..."

She trailed off, looking back into the fire. Sephiroth stared at her in surprise. They had spoken many times over the past few years. There wasn't much else to do in Modeoheim. But he couldn't recall the last time he had seen her get as emotional as this. Shortly after Nibelheim, he had gone into darker moods on many occasions. Sometimes, he would speak about them, and she would respond. He would talk about his past, and she would listen. But she had never spoken about her own past.

And he had never thought to ask. Before coming to Midgar, she had never shown any indication that her past haunted her. Or maybe she had...maybe she just hadn't noticed. How many far-off glances into the snow had he missed because he was too focused on his own problems? How many times had he returned to their hideout from a hunt or a quick battle to see her working—always working, even in the dead of night, without even thinking to ask her why?

But now...

"...Cissnei?" he asked, not sure how to broach the subject.

She sighed softly, not looking up. "...I never knew my parents," she said. "Like you...I was raised and trained inside Shinra. By your standards, I might be a monster as well."

He stared at her. He had had no idea. He knew that she was skilled, that she had been accepted into the Turks at a young age, but for some reason, he had always assumed...

...That what? That she had had a normal life before joining the Turks? That she had simply entered the training program early, or been some sort of prodigy? Had he thought that he was the only one who had been raised to kill?

How arrogant of him.

"...How long?" he asked, looking away from her and back at the fire.

"...Before I became a Turk?" asked Cissnei. "...Seven years. When I was seven years old...Shion...and the director of the Turks back then, found me in an orphanage in Junon. They saw potential in me. Veld...the director...had me placed in the training program. When I was fourteen, they let me take the examinations. I passed."

Seven years.

"I see..." he said. "I was six when they truly started training me. I think they had always been training me in subtle ways before that, but I was too young to really notice."

She snorted, and he looked over at her to see her lips curve in an amused smile, her eyes still on the fire. "I was a pickpocket," she said. "A fairly good one too. I didn't think I'd end up using it like this though." She tightened her hold on her knees, looking up at the sky. "...Cissnei isn't my real name," she said. "It's a name I took on when I joined the Turks."

"...Really?" he asked. "Why?"

"It's Costan," she said. "...Or at least it's derived from Costan...but my pronunciation was horrible when I chose it. Cisne. It means swan. When I was a kid...I always wanted wings. I thought if I had them, I would be free. But I guess..." Her fingers slowly clenched, tightening around her arms. "...You can have wings, and still be in a cage after all."

He stared at her, not really knowing what to say to that. "...And...your real name?" he asked.

She didn't answer for a long moment. The two of them sat in silence, the only sound coming from the crackling of the fire and the wind. She tugged on the blanket around her shoulders, pulling it tighter around herself. "...I carry a lot of things on my back," she said at last. She slowly shook her head. "...But maybe I'll tell you someday."

He watched her for a moment more, before sighing, standing up and lifting Masamune in his hand. She looked over at him in surprise.

"Sleep," he said. "You need it. I'll keep watch until Red returns."

She stared at him, her expression uncertain. At last, she shook her head. "At least let me see to that wound," she said.

He shook his head. "It will be fine."

"You know," she said, her tone becoming lightly teasing again. "When you get impaled in the chest by a flaming, exploding sword and shrug it off, you make the rest of us look bad."

He glanced back at her. "I'll take care of it," he said. Aerith had already healed it to the point where it wasn't bothering him as much as it used to. Even though Cissnei had lost their Curaga materia after her capture, he would be able to treat it with the emergency supplies she had managed to salvage.

Her expression grew slightly more concerned, her brows knitting together. "It will scar," she warned.

He looked away. "I don't," he said simply. Another thing that set him apart. "...Sleep. That's an order."

She sighed. He looked back at her, thinking she was about to argue again, but she was already lying down, curling up next to the fire and pulling the blanket over herself. "Don't forget to douse the fire before you turn in," she said.

He nodded. "I won't," he said.

"And don't stay up all night either," she said, opening her eyes and looking over at him. "Even if you can. You need your rest too."

He nodded again. He had actually been considering it, but the fight with Genesis had taken more out of him than he expected. Perhaps it couldn't hurt to get a few hours of sleep. "I won't," he promised.

"Alright," she said, closing her eyes and turning onto her side. "Good night, Sephiroth."

"Good night," he replied, continuing to watch the desert.

XxXxX

Red XIII padded softly into the small ring of light cast by their small fire, his mouth closed lightly around his prize. Sephiroth looked up as he approached. The warrior was seated by the fire, part of his sword resting across his lap as he tended to the blade. He set it aside, watching as Red slowly lowered his catch to the ground. It was a small burrowing creature—not much, but considering the choice of game in the wasteland, more than expected. There was probably enough meat on it to get the three of them through one more day of traveling, coupled with the rations that Cissnei had managed to steal.

"There's hardly anything alive out there," said Red, nudging the creature towards Sephiroth's direction before settling down next to the fire and resting his head on his front legs. He could feel exhaustion beginning to set in. He had indeed started running, almost as soon as he was out of sight from camp. He'd chosen a direction and just run, reveling in the feeling of the wind in his fur and the earth disappearing beneath his feet. It had been too long. "This is all I managed to get."

"Hmm," said Sephiroth, glancing down at the small creature. "...It will do." He set his sword aside, getting up and walking over to the supply bag. As Red watched, he pulled out a folding knife, flicking it open and walking over to their catch. Sephiroth dragged it a little bit away from the fire, crouching down and holding the knife to the skin. He paused for a moment, looking over at Red. "I'm going to cook the meat," he said. "Do you mind?"

Red rolled his shoulders, mimicking a human shrug. "By all means," he said.

Sephiroth nodded, proceeding to skin the animal. Red took the opportunity to glance back at the camp, his eyes fixing on the figure on the other side of the fire. She had her back to them, the blanket pulled up tightly over her shoulders. He took note of her even breathing, and the hushed tone that Sephiroth used when he spoke.

"She's asleep?" he asked.

"She needs it," said Sephiroth, continuing to work. He finished up quickly, bringing three skewers of meat over to the fire. Red watched as he set them down, propping them up with rocks. The scent of cooking meat filled the air, accompanied by the sizzling of fat and other juices. Red watched as Sephiroth went to clean up, studying the other man. So this was the famous Project S, Specimen 1...

"You did that well," Red commented, as Sephiroth returned to the fire.

"I fought on the frontlines of the Wutai War for many years," said Sephiroth. "Setting up camp and other survival skills were necessary. I'm surprised you managed to find anything out here."

Red shrugged again. "I have a good nose," he said. He looked out at the wasteland. It was dry and barren place. Looking at it now, it was hard to believe that in his childhood, it had been one of the most fertile grasslands in the area. But that was what had drawn Shinra to it, after all. The promise of mako. He lowered his head again, looking back at the fire. "I suppose some things make their home even in a place like this."

"Mm," said Sephiroth idly. He reached out with a stick, stoking the fire. Embers crackled into the air. Red watched him, once again taking note of his posture, and of his eyes. He looked tired, Red decided. Not physically weary. But tired.

"What are you going to do about her share?" he asked, moving his head in Cissnei's direction.

"Save it," he replied. "There's some foil in the pack. She can have it when she wakes up to take her watch."

"I see..." said Red. He lifted his head, looking into the fire again. "...Well...when you finish eating and packing that away, go sleep. I'll take first watch tonight."

He had been expecting an argument. But instead, Sephiroth simply nodded, watching the fire like a man lost in his own thoughts.

TO BE CONTINUED