Brief introduction: While I was writing "The Color of Red," I did this little segment involving T'seng. It was then that I started to wonder exactly what happened to him after he had his run-in with Sephiroth, or, more accurately, Sephiroth's Masamune, at the Temple of the Ancients. We all know that people like Aeris joined the Lifestream, but people like Sephiroth and say, Hojo, did not. But that left me wondering, what about people like T'seng? In which category did he fit into? The result was this little piece, which some people don't agree with. But I'm taking poetic license here, and you are more than welcome to do likewise. So whether you agree or disagree, I hope you enjoy it all the same.
May you never be haunted by flying pomegranates and grocery stores,
-JaiWong
Tests of Love
Light
T'seng jerked involuntarily, then slumped over as he felt six plus feet of steel slide out of his back.
With half closed eyes, the leader of the Turks watched impassively as a familiar silver-haired man sheathed his monumental sword and approached the niche in which the Keystone was set.
Laughing at something no one else could see, Sephiroth placed a single hand on the Keystone. T'seng was momentarily blinded by a brilliant flash of light and when he could see again, Sephiroth was gone.
Dimly, he thought he could hear voices outside the Temple. He paid them no heed until one cut through the haze of pain that surrounded him and bit deeply into his soul.
"What?" The words came to him in fragments, drifting about his mind, seeking something on which to anchor themselves. "You....to see me?....I..... understand..... what?.... Inside..."
"Aeris," he mumbled (aloud?), "Go back. Go back..."
"In here."
"What?"
"T'seng!" (no, he thought, he only thought she called his name. only wished...)
He heard a voice (his own?) speaking in the distance.
"Sephiroth is inside...the Keystone..."
He felt himself drifting away, (NO!) away....away. (NO! not yet!)
Painfully, tediously, he pulled himself to the side of the Temple, leaning up against a pillar.
"I'm still...alive." (liar)
He was drifting again. (no, stop!) He couldn't leave yet, there was so much more he wanted to tell her, wanted her to know. (say it!)
"Aeris..." He had to warn her. To save her.
Too late. He was gone. (no) Gone. (stay) He wanted desperately to have her hold him, to tell him everything was going to be all right. He wanted to take back that moment above the Plate, to hold her and tell her he was sorry.
Light
The Temple was gone. He was floating now, floating in nothingness, drifting in eternity. The voices had faded off into the distance. There was nothing, nothing except himself. Floating. Drifting. Alone.
(no) He was alone. (no!) He had always been alone. (not true!)
Except for her. For Aeris.
Aeris.
"I'm sorry," he whispered into the void. "I'm sorry. Forgive me."
Light
He was standing on an endless plain. A sea of yellow grass swept beyond him in all directions, farther than was physically possible.
Looking out into the brilliant expanse of waving grasses, T'seng realized how lonely he was. (he didn't want to be alone. not now, not now!)
He started to run forward, anywhere, everywhere, trying to escape the loneliness etched in his heart. (what heart?)
"Help me!" he screamed, falling to his knees. "Someone, help me! I don't want to be alone." He paused to listen, but there was no response. Not even an echo, for there was nothing for his voice to echo off of.
"Don't," he whispered. "Don't leave me. Don't leave me here alone." (she couldn't leave him because she was never with him)
"No." Aeris, he had loved her-
(was he even capable of love?)
Yes. He was. He knew it then and he knew it even moreso now.
(so why could he not say her name?)
And he ran. He ran until he was unable to even stand up anymore. He fell to the ground, bewildered. (no) For though he had run until he thought his heart would burst, he had not moved. (no) He couldn't escape, no matter how far he ran, no matter how long he tried, he could never run away from himself. (no) And that's where he was. He was inside his own heart (he had a heart?), his cold, empty heart.
Empty. (why?)
Desolate. (was he not capable of caring?)
No. (no?)
"No!" He screamed again, heard the pain in his own ears (whose pain? his?). This time, there was an echo. Somewhere off in the distance was something other than this bleak despair.
T'seng searched his memories, his heart, his soul (soul?) for a clue to his salvation. He loved Aeris. (love?) He knew it. He recognized it the moment he felt it, and he knew with the utmost certainty that it was love. (how?)
He knew it because once, years (lifetimes) ago, he had felt the same feeling. Someone had loved him once, and he had returned the feeling in full.
Finding new strength in this revelation, he struggled to his feet and started to run again. (run, for it's there, and it's leaving you. finding you. losing you)
He remembered a house. He remembered warmth. Not the artificial, manufactured warmth of Mako energy, but the genuine warmth that extended from the love of a family.
(love)
That was it. The love of a family. At one time, a life before ShinRa, T'seng had been part of a family. Living with people who loved him, and who he loved back. That's how he knew love.
"Mother. Father. Everyone." What had happened to them all? (you know) He searched further. Deeper.
"The flames." He said it out loud (why?). As he spoke the words, a house appeared before him. (his house. his family. his past) He closed his eyes and waited.
Light
It was nighttime. There weren't any stars or moon or clouds. There was nothing but the haze that was constantly produced by ShinRa and its damn manufacturing.
As he watched, T'seng saw the house open up to him. Through none of his own accord, he drifted inside. (your house. remember it?)
He knew every stair, every creak, every little niche. Not that it mattered. He floated above it all, into each and every room. His family, his mother, his father, his sisters, his brothers, they were all asleep. Fast asleep. Peaceful. (peaceful as death)
No. T'seng wouldn't let that thought take hold. Instead, he let himself drift back out the doorway into the empty street. Somewhere, a clock struck a single solitary toll.
One o'clock. (yes) T'seng was struck by remembrance (yes). It was one o'clock when he had woken up. Something had woken him. The clock. He had smelled something. What was it? (smoke?)
Smoke. He had gotten up out of bed and thrown some clothing on. T'seng watched the scene unfold from outside as though the walls were transparent. (smoke? why was there smoke?)
He remembered the heat coming from the floor as he made his way to his parents' room. (there shouldn't be smoke. or heat. why-?)
He screamed as his hand touched the hot metal of the doorknob. Outside, T'seng screamed too. (pain?)
"Fire!" (fire? where?)
"Get out! Get out of the house!" (what house? who were they talking to? they couldn't be talking about-)
"Mom! Dad!" T'seng watched himself as he beat at the door with his small fists in a puny attempt to break it down. (why wouldn't it open?) The heat had welded it shut by that time. He was trapped. He was going to die.
(die? he didn't die. he couldn't have)
He remembered hands reached out to pull him back. He remembered the crunch of shattered glass being stepped on. He remembered the icy feel of the wind whipping his shirt and hair while he stood and watched his house, his home, his family disappear in the hellish inferno.
Light
He was back on the empty plain.
(empty?)
He reached up to his face and blinked as his hand came away wet. He was crying. (sad? he was sad? but why-?)
"T'seng!" (who?)
"Mother?"
"T'seng!" (where?)
"Father!"
He was running again. He didn't remember standing or moving, but he suddenly found himself running again.
"Where are you?" he shouted into the emptiness. He ran faster now, certain that someone was there. Waiting. (for him?)
And then, suddenly, they were there.
T'seng stopped short. There in front of him, exactly the way he had remembered them all, was his family.
He shook his head in denial (what?). No. (yes)
No. (???)
"You're dead," he said to them. (what was he doing?) "You died in the fire. All of you. I'm the only one that survived." (wait-)
"No." He said it forcefully. "You're gone. I remember. I wished that you had survived with me, or, all else failing, that I had died with you. But you didn't and neither did I." (stop)
"But," he went on, his voice dangerously close to breaking, "I remembered you. I kept you safe. Then time passed. I began to forget. I started to lose you all- (???)
"But when I met her (say her name) I remembered the love you gave me." Slowly, he felt a huge weight leave his shoulders. "I realized that the feelings I had for her were akin to the ones I had for you. And I knew that I had never lost you. You've always been with me, even when I tried to make myself forget." He knew what he had to tell them, now. "Thank you, for everything that you ever gave me, ever taught me, ever showed me. Without you, I would never have been able to love. And I would never have known what I do about her." (say her name)
Slowly, as if part of a dream, his family smiled at him, his mother with love, his father with pride, and all his brothers and sisters with their plain, simple adoration.
Light
They were gone. Gone from the plain, gone from his sight, but, T'seng knew, not from his heart.
"Thank you," he whispered to the barren sea of grass.
Light
He was still in the grasslands, but something had changed. The wind (wind? what wind?) was no longer bending the swells of grass, and part of the hollow emptiness he had always felt (no, not always. not when he was with her) was gone.
"I-" The words stuck in his throat. Try as he would, he could not force out the words he wanted so much to say. (why? if it was true-)
"I don't understand," he whispered out into the emptiness. "Help me. Tell me." (tell him what?)
"We are here." (what?)
"What?" T'seng jerked his head around. Everywhere he looked, there were only the yellow grasses waving idly at him. But the voice (who's voice?), he had heard a voice. (there was no voice)
"Who's there?" he called out into the loneliness. "Who are you?" (you know who they are)
"You know who we are." There were two of them, now, calling. (to him?)
"Where are you? Tell me where you are! Please!" T'seng spun around, searching for the source of the voices. They were familiar (were they?), so incredibly familiar-
"Sir!" T'seng spun around again. There, standing in front of him were a trio of people he never expected to see again.
"Reno, Elena, Rude, I- (what?)." T'seng shook his head. "I'm dead," he said. "Sephiroth killed me. I know that for certain. Does that mean, you're all-?"
"Not at all, sir." Elena smiled at him in a way that was both sweet and sad. (and regretful)
"We're just images you've created in your mind," Reno told him, standing in the way T'seng always pictured, one foot slightly forward, his mag-rod resting lightly on his shoulders, a cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. "We're not really here, but we are just as real as we would be if we were standing in the middle of the ShinRa offices." (what? danger-) Reno grinned at T'seng and lifted a single eyebrow-
Light
They were standing in the center of T'seng's office (???). A perfect semblance of T'seng himself was seated behind the desk
"What-?" T'seng started in surprise.
"Just relax, sir," Elena told him, watching the scene unfold.
An image (reality) of Rude stepped through the door. From behind his desk, T'seng smiled and motioned for him to sit. From somewhere outside (inside his mind), T'seng watched as the quiet, most intimidating member of the Turks sat and accepted the cigarette from his boss.
There were no words (there never were), though T'seng could see his phantom speaking. He watched, enraptured, as he sat behind his desk and talked. Not about anything in particular (everything), just words. Across from him, silent and brooding, Rude sat, his eyes shaded, his face screened by cigarette smoke. (hidden from the world. shut out from the embrace of humanity)
Hours, days, minutes (years?) they remained there, sitting, smoking, watching. (living?) T'seng continued to speak about nothing (everything) while Rude seemed content to listen.
Finaly, he stopped talking. (no, only the words stopped) Rude stood and ground out his cigarette.
"Thank you, sir," he said, turning to leave. Nothing more (nothing less), only those words. (words that meant it all)
Light
"Remember that, sir?" Elena watched him thoughtfully (caringly). Slowly, T'seng found that he did remember.
Rude had been a Turk only a few weeks (forever) at that time. When he had first arrived, T'seng had been disconcerted (frightened. admit it, you were afraid) by his silence, his aloof attitude towards everything (and everyone). In the beginning, he pushed it from his mind, assuming (hoping, praying) that it would all go away in time. But as the weeks passed, Rude's manner remained the same. It began to worry T'seng, but the man's detachment made it difficult to approach him. (he was too afraid. yes, but what was he afraid of?)
(he was afraid of taking the chance. he was afraid of opening up and losing again)
The weeks passed as they always had (and would), and still T'seng was at a loss over what to do.
Then Rude surprised him. He had entered T'seng's office without any preamble (only his existence). Not knowing (instinct) what to do, he had offered him a cigarette and began talking. Nothing important, no real subject (life), just talking (that was all he needed). In that time, something (everything) changed. Rude was no longer so aloof (he never was, others just needed to understand), he opened and (was) accepted. T'seng, too had opened, laid himself out, vulnerable again. And he had survived. (survived what? living)
He had dared to love again.
Light
Drawing a shuddering breath, T'seng opened his eyes. They were still standing there, but something (everything) was different. Now, Reno stepped forward, his green eyes shining.
"You changed out lives, sir," he said. He smiled sorrowfully, his eyes filled with hidden (blatant) pain. "Each and every one of us." This time, Rude gestured-
Light
They (who?) stood on a street, now, (when?) in the middle of the slums. The sun was just beginning to set, washing everything in red (blood) light. To his left, T'seng saw himself, a younger, much younger version of himself (another life) walking down the shadowed streets.
He watched as he turned a corner and nearly tripped over a young boy (young, but older than his years) who sat huddled against a brick wall. He was wrapped in tattered blankets (tattered years) and clutched something to his chest. (to his very soul)
Silently (there were no need for words), he reached down and moved the blankets aside (why?). The boy was clutching the body of a woman, still fairly young, but worn. Worn from the years, the work, the pain (of living).
"No!" the boy cried (whispered). "She's sleeping." Tears filled his green eyes as he held the body fiercely. "She's sleeping," he said. (begged. prayed)
T'seng looked at (through) the boy and his desperate bundle. Turning, he began to walk away. (from the memories?)
As he walked down the alleyways, T'seng let his mind wander. He remembered (re-lived) the pain of his own time on the streets, time he had spent hungry, cold, and most (worst) of all, alone. (then she had come, and he wasn't alone)
"Damn," he whispered (shouted). Reluctantly (gratefully) he turned back the way he had come.
The boy still lay there, broken and alone. (not anymore)
"She's sleeping," he whispered again, his green eyes lost and empty. (afraid)
"I know." T'seng said (he did know-). "What's your name?" (he knew)
"Reno." (he knew)
Silently (it had already all been said) he offered his hand (his very being) to the boy.
Sadly, the boy took it (everything) and smiled at the young woman once last time. (forever)
"Goodbye, mother," he said. He stood and walked away with T'seng, never (always) looking back.
Light
"Reno." He didn't have to say it, but he did.
"Yes, sir." Reno smiled at him, his voice bitter(sweet). "You didn't have to come back."
(yes he did. there was nothing else he could have done. he had to)
"Yes, I did." T'seng closed his eyes. (opened his heart)
"You gave me life."
(he had given him life. and love. always)
"I gave you hope." (his hope was dead. he had killed it himself, because he could not say her name)
"You gave us so much more than that, sir." Elena moved towards him, the stopped. She looked at him with such longing. (hope, crushed dreams)
"I don't understand." (yes he did)
"Yes you do." She watched him carefully (guardedly), as if afraid (afraid to be hurt again). Then she smiled.
Light
"Gentlemen, this is Elena."
Again, they were in T'seng's office, Reno and Rude (always a pair) at the doorway, T'seng at his desk, a young blond woman at his side.
"From here on in, she is a Turk, and I expect (need) you to treat her as one of your (our) own."
"Yes, sir."
"...Sir."
"That is all, dismissed." (dismissed, but never gone)
Weeks (lifetimes) later, T'seng and Elena sat together (apart) at a tiny little restaurant. On the outside (inside), he ached to see the adoration in the woman's eyes. His image, however, sat in silence, cold and distant. (but hurting- always hurting)
He knew what Elena wanted (needed?), but he couldn't (couldn't? or wouldn't?) couldn't give it to her.
"Why?" she asked, her voice so small.
"It doesn't matter." (it had always mattered. it mattered to her)
"There's someone else, isn't there?" She knew, but she asked anyway.
"Yes, but it's not that." He loved someone else, but she didn't love him. (loved? he couldn't even say her name-)
"There's no hope for you and me?" she whispered. She knew, but wouldn't admit it. "No hope at all?" She looked at him, pleading in her eyes. (her soul)
"Nothing." His words were clipped, short. Best that she shouldn't suffer with false hope. (not like he did)
"..." She said nothing more, just stared into her coffee cup.
"Elena-" (he could say her name, but not-)
"Sir?" Her voice was formal now, it cut him to see the sudden change in her bearing.
"Elena, I can't love you," he said, reaching out to take her hand. "But I can give you second best." (???)
"I don't understand, sir," Elena said, obviously confused. (neither did he)
"I can't love you," he said again, weighing her hand in his own. "Not the way you want (need) me to. Because my love is already taken. But I can give you a different kind of love." He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. (her soul)
"I don't know about your past," he said. "I don't know what kind of life you had before you came here. But now that you are here, I can give you the love of a brother. A father. A family."
Elena looked at his eyes for the first time since he first told her he didn't (couldn't) love her; looked and saw the sincerity behind the brown irises, the openness so real it hurt to see it.
"You're a Turk, Elena," he told her. "You're part of a family now. Our family." He was offering her the best he could, praying that it would be enough. (it was all he had)
She looked at him a moment longer, then dropped her eyes. "Yes, sir," she whispered. He could hear the pain (loss) behind her words, and wondered at her past. Yet it was not his business, not yet. (ever) "Thank you, sir."
Light
"It still hurt," Elena admitted, remembering (cherishing) that night fondly. "But I knew what you said was true. You simply couldn't love me. But then I realized you were giving me everything else you had, and I think that's when I truly realized what love was." She smiled into his eyes, her lighter brown ones laughing in his own. "Thank you, sir, for showing me that. For giving me yourself."
She was right, he had given away himself that night, made himself vulnerable in a way he had never dreamed of. (he was afraid, still afraid, but so were they)
They were all afraid, every one of them. T'seng saw that now, they all harbored their secret fears.
The man who stood alone, who allowed himself to step off his mountain for the respect of another man. A man who meant so much to him that he broke his rule of solitude and taken him up on his companionship.
The boy who had nothing, who lay by himself desperately grasping at the last remnants of his life, his home. The home he gave up for the protection and warmth of a stranger and left behind everything he had known.
The woman who had reached out for him and lost, who's hands closed on nothing but air and dreams. Dreams that had kept her alive until they had been shattered by a word, then rebuilt by a promise of everything.
Tears flooded his brown eyes as T'seng gazed at each of his employees, his Turks.
His friends.
His family.
"Thank you," he whispered. "You gave me strength. You gave me hope. You gave me everything I needed, and everything I need now. Thank you."
"No, sir," Rude said, his mouth curving up into a rare smile. "Thank you."
Light
T'seng was alone again, but not alone. Never alone. He gazed out into the endless grasses and thought about them all, each in turn.
His family, the people who had been there for him whenever he needed them.
His mother, the island of strength that had kept his family together through it all.
His father, the one who had taught him values, morals, trusting him to be true.
His brothers and sisters, the most important people in his young life.
The Turks, who had been his family when his need was greatest.
Rude, who had offered his silent, solid presence and comfort, asking nothing.
Reno, who had taken everything he had said with complete trust and loyalty.
Elena, who had given him the chance to finaly give back to those he loved.
They were all with him, sheltered in his heart. Even if he forgot them, they would always be there, reminding him when he needed them most. They made him strong when he was without hope, gave him love when he was cold. They were with him at that moment, helping him in the most difficult moment he had ever experienced. Helped him say the words. Say her name.
"Aeris," he whispered, his eyes closed. He felt the world begin to shift and change. "I love you," he said simply.
"Oh, T'seng." His eyes flew open, meeting her softer brown ones, heart shaped face framed by her long brown hair. Her pink dress fluttered slightly, as if blown by some errant wind, though no wind blew. "I've been waiting here, for you."
"I-I was afraid," he admitted. "I couldn't say it, because I was afraid of what might happen. Then- they all reminded me. They gave me back what I gave them."
"I know." Smiling, she looked around. The grass fields had changed, shimmered and disappeared. They stood in the center of a turquoise river, a flow of a substance so pure that T'seng could feel it in his very soul. "They- the Planet told me you couldn't enter until you remembered, until you realized that you weren't alone. No man is an island, T'seng." She stepped forward, taking his hand in her own delicate one. "No man is a mountain. We need each other, all of us. We can't survive on out own, not forever. You just had to understand that again."
Smiling her soft, beautiful smile, Aeris ran her slender fingers through T'seng's ebony hair. Tears of pure joy filled his eyes as he drew her into an embrace that included them all, the entire Planet, all of their joys and sorrows, their triumphs and failures. An embrace that defied eternity and halted time with its intensity.
As he turned with her to enter the flood of pure energy, T'seng cast one final glance back. Standing there, sharing his exultation and joy, they all watched as he smiled at them one last time and disappeared with her into the Lifestream.
Light
~fin~