Final Fantasy VII: Another Side

By:

Mystwalker

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII.

A/N: I'm going to say a few words some of you were probably dying to hear. Ahem. "Alright, we've got emotional closeness. Let's turn up the heat on this ship."

Short review responses in the interest of time. Thank you Riku Uzumaki, ZackandAerithFair2012, JazzQueen, Irish-Brigid, DJ Meltdown of Ground Xero, Furionknight, Blinded in a bolthole, Erilin-chan, Draconic, and SubZeroChimera for your reviews. I really appreciate all the support.

XxXxX

File 017: A New Age

It was a warm day in Junon Harbor, almost unseasonably warm, signalling the coming of spring. Across the water, in Costa del Sol, they were probably already starting their tourism season. Tifa slung her hair over one shoulder, attempting to cool off the back of her neck. She sat perched on a stack of boxes on a Harbor street corner, a frown on her face as she scanned the streets for any sign of Cloud, Aerith, or Barret. Beside her, Yuffie leaned against the wall with a bored expression on her face and her hands in her pockets. Red lay on the ground at her feet, his tail occasionally flicking as if to stir the air. She perked up at the sight of a spot of pink moving through the streets, followed by a familiar head of spiky blond hair.

"Fina-lly," said Yuffie, impatiently. "I was starting to think they got eaten on the way back or something!" She raised her hand in the air, waving it enthusiastically. "Hey, Spike! We're over here!"

Cloud looked up at the sound of her voice, spotting them. He turned, saying something to Aerith and Barret, and in a moment all three of them were heading towards the group, looking tired, but none the worse for wear. Tifa shot Yuffie a small smile, pushing herself up off the boxes to meet Cloud.

"Tifa," said Cloud, as he reached her.

"What happened?" asked Tifa. "How did it go? Is the little girl okay?"

"She's fine," said Cloud. "We got her back safely. The old woman we met said we could use her house if we wanted. It's...well, it's bigger than that room, at least..."

"She's alright?" asked Tifa, letting out a sigh of relief. "Oh, good. I'm glad."

It had been Cloud, Tifa, and Barret that had come across Priscilla on the beach and had defeated the monster that had attacked her. Unfortunately, she had been knocked unconscious and Cloud had had to perform CPR. Aerith, Yuffie, and Red caught up just as the three of them were leaving the beach with Priscilla in tow, and Aerith had volunteered to go with Cloud to see the little girl safe at home, in case something else happened along the way.

"She's sleeping well," said Aerith, stepping forward. "I think she'll be alright." Her eyes moved over the assembled group. "Zack and Kunsel aren't back yet?"

"They should be back any minute now," said Tifa, frowning as she checked her watch. "They're a little late."

"Dammit, that Zack," grumbled Barret. "Three o'clock means three o'clock."

"I'm sure they'll be back soon," said Tifa.

"Um...can I say something?" asked Yuffie, walking up to the group. She wedged her way in between Tifa and Aerith.

"Yes, Yuffie, what is it?" asked Tifa, glancing at her.

"I vote that we split up and take the old lady's house. Anything so that I don't have to rub elbows with that guy for another night."

Tifa caught the uncomfortable glances Cloud, Aerith, and Barret shot each other. Yuffie's opinion of Sephiroth hadn't really improved on the trip over, although at least she wasn't jumping at his throat anymore. Cloud placed a hand on the back of his neck, looking down at the ground. "Well, in fairness, we are kind of cramped..." he said.

"Splitting up would probably be for the best," agreed Tifa. "We wouldn't want to crowd Cissnei too much..."

"Hello, what about me?" asked Yuffie. "I'm being crowded too!"

Cloud ignored her, turning towards Tifa. "Anyway..." he began.

Red nudged his nose between them, stepping into the ring they had formed. His ears twitched. "Incoming," he warned.

The five of them looked up, falling silent. A man was walking towards them, looking somewhat lost. He was dressed in a deep brown suit, adding to the out of place effect. His hair was a pale blond, curling slightly at the edges, and his eyes were a bright blue. He looked young, probably a young businessman or an employee of Shinra. Nowadays, in Junon, the two more or less meant the same thing.

"Pardon," he said. "I seem to have lost my way. Can you tell me where the nearest entrance to Junon proper is?"

The group exchanged glances. It was Tifa who spoke up first, pointing in the general direction. "It's over there," she said.

"Thank you," said the man, smiling gratefully. He turned away. "Sorry to take up your time."

Barret folded his arms, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "What's a suit like you doin' down here anyway?" he asked.

"Oh, that?" asked the man, looking back at Barret. He gave an embarrassed smile, scratching the back of his head. His face flushed. "That's really embarrassing, actually. You see, I was supposed to...um...meet a girl. But I think it was a prank. My friend told me she'd be here."

"You need better friends," commented Yuffie, resting her hands on her waist and frowning.

"Oh, it's not their fault," said the man, laughing slightly. "They do this sort of thing all the time. It's all in good fun."

"Hm," said Cloud, frowning as he eyed the man.

"Well anyway, thank you again," he said, nodding at them. "Sorry to interrupt. I really should be going now."

The man turned, walking in the direction that Tifa had pointed out. Tifa frowned, staring after him. "What a strange guy..." she commented.

Someone else might have said something, but at that moment, a shout rang out in the other direction, and all of them turned.

"Hey!" said Zack, running up to them.

"And there's Zack," said Yuffie.

"You're late," grumbled Barret as Zack reached them.

"Yeah, sorry," said Zack, coming to a stop. "Stuff happened." He looked in the direction the man had left in. "Who was that?"

"Some lost rich kid," replied Yuffie with a shrug.

"Huh..." Zack frowned, looking in that direction.

"Where's Kunsel?" asked Aerith. Tifa blinked, turning back to Zack as she realized that he was alone.

"He'll catch up," said Zack. "He said he had something he needed to check out."

Barret grumbled something under his breath about SOLDIERs, but turned away, making to head back to the house they were staying in. Tifa frowned, looking back at Zack. She didn't like the thought of leaving any of them out there alone. "Will he really be alright?" she asked.

"Oh, he'll be fine," said Zack, folding his arms and falling into step with the rest of the group. "Kunsel's good at sniffing things out. When we were in SOLDIER, we would always look at him for information. He knew a lot of things the rest of us didn't..."

XxXxX

"Between you and me, Ciss...he's worried as hell."

Someone was talking. A voice. It took her a moment to realize she recognized that voice, although she couldn't quite tell why or from where. An image flashed into her mind, that of a dark-haired man sitting half in shadow, one arm draped across his knee. It was dark—why was it so dark?-and he wasn't looking directly at her, his eyes instead fixed on something she couldn't see. The image faded away as soon as it came into view, leaving only the smallest sliver of it left, the sight of a gloved hand, his, pressed against the ground between them. She wanted to do something, to cry or call out or move to get him to notice her, but her body wouldn't obey. She couldn't even open her eyes.

"I mean, in fairness, we all are," he continued. "I just...I can't imagine you gone, you know?" A pause. She saw the hand lift, heard scraping sounds as though he were settling against...whatever it was he was sitting on. He sighed heavily. "You'd think I'd be used to it by now. After Essai and Sebastian...and then Angeal, and then Biggs, Wedge and Jessie. But you know...you never get used to it. They stay with you. They never leave..."

She did know. She knew. She wanted to tell him so—would have, if she could just get her mouth to work.

"...I guess what I'm trying to say is, get up...okay? We all miss you. And I'd hate to see Seph if you died. I think you'd hate that most of all."

Sephiroth...

Yes, she would. She would hate that. In this portion of her mind, where she could be honest with herself. She fought again to regain consciousness. This time, she thought she felt her finger twitch, scraping against the grass, but it wasn't enough. It couldn't be enough.

"Come on, Ciss." The hand that had left her field of vision landed on hers, squeezing it insistently and shaking it slightly. "Come on. I know you're in there. We've got a world to fix, remember? Quit sleeping on the job. You've got to wake up..."

But I am awake, Zack, she wanted to say.

"You've got to wake up..."

I am awake...

Her eyes slowly drifted open, and she drew in a long, slow breath of air, laced with the smell of fish and the sea. She was lying on something—a bed, although not a soft one. Her body felt like it was made of lead, but she could feel sensation slowly returning, and she traield her eyes upward, fixing them on the ceiling. It was low and wooden, looking like it had probably seen better days.

She took in another breath, this time through her mouth, and tried her voice again. This time, she was surprised, both at the fact that she had managed to get something out and how hoarse her voice sounded. "...Junon Harbor..." she croaked.

"Impressive," commented a familiar voice from beside her. "You've only seen the ceiling."

Cissnei flexed her fingers and curled her hands into fists, loosely gripping the sheets beneath her as she turned her head to the side. The world spun for a moment before coming back into focus. Sephiroth sat on a chair beside the bed, Masamune propped up on the wall beside him within easy reach of his left hand and a book facedown on his lap. He was watching her, his expression impassive. The Turk in her immediately started surveying her surroundings, her eyes trailing from his face to the empty mug of coffee on the end table and the plate, cleaned of food but neatly stacked.

Wherever they were, he had been here for a while.

"...I recognized the smell," she replied, feeling a tired smile come onto her face. The memories of what had happened before she was knocked unconscious returned to her, and she braced herself with her arms, trying to get herself to sit up. She grunted with the effort, her back clearing the mattress by a few inches. Her upper body felt the most unresponsive, she couldn't get it to obey her.

He was by her side at an instant, pulling her up with a single steadying hand. She saw, perhaps imagined, the briefest look of concern flicker across his expression as she faltered, felt his fingers lingering across her shoulder a second longer than necessary before he pulled away. He took a step back once she was leaning against the headboard, reestablishing the distance between them as though the moment had never been. She could see it in his eyes that it had bothered him, that he had noticed, and refrained from pointing it out.

"I'm guessing you'll want water," he said, turning away from her and walking over to a corner of the room. She heard the sound of water being poured into a glass, and only then did she realize how dry her throat was. "You should also eat. The doctor said..."

"To make me eat, but nothing too rich. Something light, like soup at first, to make sure it doesn't shock my system," she finished. He looked over his shoulder at her, a questioning frown on his face, and she shrugged slightly. Her shoulder screamed in pain, and she instantly regretted the gesture.

His expression never changed, but he noticed her wince.

"You were awake?" he asked.

"No," she replied, gratefully accepting the glass from him. She held it in both hands, afraid that if she didn't, she would spill. "...But it's not the first time I've heard advice like that."

"You've been shot at before?"

"At? Yes. Actually hit? Rarely, and never as bad as this," she said. She raised the cup to her lips, taking a small sip. Her body wanted more, but she knew better than to gulp it down. She didn't particularly like the idea of Sephiroth having to drag her to the bathroom so that she could be sick. She lowered the cup to her lap, waiting to see how it settled before she drank again. "...I've been knocked unconscious before, though. And I've had colleagues who were badly hurt. One of my fellow Turks was in the hospital for three years..." She shook her head, her fingers trailing along the edge of the cup. "...So, is there soup?"

"Downstairs," he replied.

Downstairs. So they were at an inn, or at least renting a room in someone's house. Whatever it was, it was a fairly low-budget one, from the looks of it, although she could think of a host of reasons why they weren't in the city proper. "How long?" she asked.

"We arrived in the city yesterday," said Sephiroth. "You'd been unconscious for about three days before that. You were running a fever by the time we got here. Zack and Kunsel found the doctor and brought him here." His frown deepened. "He doesn't care much for Shinra. He won't tell."

"I wasn't worried about that," she replied, smiling slightly. "They'll find us eventually anyway. The others?"

"Out. They're searching for information."

"And you chose to stay?" asked Cissnei. She took another slow sip of water.

"Apparently, I'm too conspicuous," he replied, picking up the empty plate and mug. "...And someone had to."

She frowned, her fingers lightly tapping on the edge of her cup as she searched through her thoughts. There was a faint taste of potion lingering in her mouth, as though someone had been forcing her to drink it while she was unconscious. Her eyes moved, drifting away from Sephiroth and out the window as images flashed before her mind, seeming to waver before her in the bright sunlight. Besides the memory of Zack, there were other things she could remember, brief flashes of sight, and sound and memory.

Sephiroth, standing over her as she lay on the ground, checking her bandages. A cool hand against her forehead, accompanied by a a voice, speaking in a low murmur to someone else she couldn't feel. The sight of the world from over his shoulder, lurching with every step. A strong arm against her back, forcing her to sit up and drink from a vial of bitter liquid. Her eyes squeezed shut against the memories, and she opened them again to find herself back in the real world, sitting in front of him.

Her eyes moved over towards him. "You...took care of me," she said, slowly.

His hands stilled, stopping in their work. She could hear the faint clink of silverware on ceramic. He turned towards her slowly, his eyes meeting hers. "I was...," he said slowly, "...just repaying a debt. It was...overdue."

She remembered now, in a rush, how she had felt in the days after the Nibelheim Incident, days spent traveling under the radar, from contact to contact, the long drive up the mountain with a semi-conscious Sephiroth strapped into the front seat, murmuring over and over again how he didn't need help, how he would be alright. She had been stubborn, then, more of a nuisance than a caretaker, insisting all the while that his injuries be seen to, that he stay in bed until he was recovered, that he eat this much and no more but certainly no less. He had never thanked her. As a Turk, she had learned not to expect thanks, as a SOLDIER he had always been cautious in giving it. A warmth bloomed and blossomed in her chest, the weight of it forcing her eyes away from his. When she spoke, it was through a knot in her throat.

"...Thank you."

"Mm."

"You can go now that I'm awake," she said. A sly smile crossed onto her face, and she looked up at him. "...I'll even promise to stay in bed."

The diversion worked. A glimmer of amusement appeared in his eye. "...And I'm to believe that?" he asked, a ghost of a smile appearing on his face.

"Fair enough," she said, taking another sip of water before setting the glass aside. He turned away from her, carrying the empty plate and cup in his hands.

"I'll come back with soup," he said. "And I suppose you'll want to be briefed. I should warn you, our group's gained a new member, and she's...a handful..."

XxXxX

The streets of Junon were busy that day, except for those that offered a clear view of the sea. In Junon, the ocean wasn't a bright blue, instead taking on a murky hue with an oily sheen over the surface of the water, but it still stretched on endlessly, the waves lapping against the shore. Kunsel stood on one of those outlooks, feeling the sea breeze blow across his face. People for the most part, ignored him. He was dressed in civilian clothes instead of his uniform, and his appearance wasn't one that would draw attention. Zack had teased him before about not having much of a presence, but he'd found that that usually worked to his advantage.

He let the crowds pass him by, waiting.

That was one of the main differences between Kunsel and Zack. He knew how to wait. Unlike his friend, he had never really wanted the spotlight. He had actually preferred the background, letting the other members of his class succeed. Becoming a Second had been enough for him—not a low enough rank to be ashamed of, not a high enough rank that he would need to be seen. He had missed that, as a First, thrust into the role of commander. But now that he had left Shinra, he was starting to get that back. His fingers drummed idly against the railing, and he watched the boats come into the harbor. Listening. Waiting.

Waiting until the sound of footsteps broke the little pocket of silence around him, a small figure approaching him. A voice spoke, soft and feminine, with a cold flat tone that belied the lightness of the voice.

"So..." she said. "You are here after all."

He straightened up briefly and turned, his eyes landing on her.

Shelke the Transparent.

TO BE CONTINUED