Bright Seraphim
One

"You're sorta... stuck where you are
But in your dreams, you can buy expensive cars,
And live on Mars,
And have it Your Way..."


She was singing aloud to the tape that was playing in her car's deck. It was one of her favorite song assortments, designed to keep her singing - and therefore awake - on long car trips such as this one.

It was only nine o'clock, but it had already been dark for a while, and the snow was making it difficult to drive. The snowflakes swirled enticingly in the headlights of her 1986 baby blue Pontiac T-1000, quietly trying to mesmerize her. She denied them and concentrated on the road. What was left of the road. Currently it was only a slight, regular depression in a rolling white sea.

"And you hate your boss at your job,
But in your dreams,
You can blow his head off.
In your dreams, Show No Mercy..."


Her name was Julia Amber Zelazney, called Jaz by her few friends. Jaz had been her computer user ID during college, which from which she had graduated the previous spring. She was of average height and build, currently dressed in blue jeans, sneakers and a green velour shirt, covered by a dark green trench coat. She wore black, tight-fitting gloves to protect her hands from the car's cool atmosphere - the heater didn't work too well. She had very fair skin and a few freckles, and her fire-colored hair just brushed her shoulders. She'd always been pleased with her hair - it was a nice color, so its cut and style, or lack thereof, weren't too important.

The song ended; another began.

"To the whole room her eyes are numb
As she reads from a true love story
From the pages of a book her lover comes
Her heart bleeds, it's a true love story..."


"Sure, Katie," she said out loud as the song began. "Sure, I'll keep the bookstore open the extra couple of days while you drag all the stuff out to the convention in Pittsburgh. Sure, I'll drag out everything you forgot. Sure, I'll drive out after closing the store the night before the convention..." She squinted uneasily at the road, her pale green eyes narrowing to cut out the glare caused by the car's low beams. "Katie, you're sooooo lucky that this is my vacation. I get a whole weekend, by myself as much as I want, in a whole suite of my own..." Now she grinned. "And I'm just going to sit and make costumes for people anyway. The advantage is that I don't have to be around your twelve year old nephew if I don't want to, and you're stuck with 'im..."

"Only in the blue night, he comes to her
Only in the blue night
That's when the whole night belongs to her
Only in the blue night..."


"On the other hand, I'm the cheapskate who would rather drive Rt. 22 in the worst weather of the year than pay to take the Turnpike..." Jaz mentally smacked her forehead. "Brilliant move. Truly brilliant." Taking Rt. 22 trapped her for a slightly longer amount of time in a poorly heated car, filled with costumes, books, and the perpetual, stale scent of disintegrating foam rubber. She wondered if it mightn't be good to start thinking of finding a new car.

The car crested a hill and she saw that the road was a little more visible on this side. She let the car speed up a bit on the way down.

Near the base of the hill, she glimpsed something in the low beams, a darker streak in the spaces between snowflakes. For less than a second she thought that she'd driven off of the road and was heading for a tree. Her foot was already pressing the break when it struck her, with much horror, that there was someone standing in the road.

The wheels locked.

The car slid downhill in the snow; Jaz twisted the non-power steering wheel and the Pontiac knifed sideways, striking the figure with the left front fender.

The car fishtailed to a halt, pointing straight again, headlights staring down at the crumpled figure in the road.

Jaz sat rigid, gripping the wheel tightly, in danger of hyperventilating. She opened and closed her mouth several times until sound was forced out. "Oh... Oh God... Help..." Her mind and heart were racing, praying for help far faster and louder than she could voice.

She suddenly sprang into action, shoving open the driver's side door and twisting to get out. The seat belt dug painfully into her waist; she desperately unfastened it and jumped out, leaving the door open and the car idling.

She had barely stumbled to the front of the car when the collapsed figure arose with a flurry of motion and snow. Jaz staggered to a stop and fell backward as a long streak of light slashed at her.

Half-sitting, her eyes followed the streak - a sword, her mind registered - to its source, then up to the wielder's face.

For a moment their eyes met.

Jaz's mind shut down. She felt light-headed, as though she'd been holding her breath for too long.

The silver-haired man's luminous eyes half-closed and rolled back slightly. He fell to one side, barely trying to stop himself; the sword rolled from his fingers and tumbled softly into the snow.

For a few seconds, Jaz remained motionless - she could still feel the burning ice-green eyes staring at her. Through her.

She was momentarily certain that she'd hit an angel.

She remembered the sword, and noted the man's black clothing, and wondered what kind of angel.

Maybe an alien, then, She thought as she unsteadily got to her feet. She merely stared down at the prone form for a few minutes, trying to figure out what to do, and how a guy with a sword could keep his hair that long. She paced nervously back and forth.

He seemed to be all right...

But he's unconscious now. He might have internal injuries or something.

I can't just leave him here.

She made up her mind.

Jaz entered the car again long enough to remove the keys from the ignition. Ignoring the vehicle's irate buzzing informing her that she'd left the lights on, she opened the hatchback.

The Pontiac was too small and too full for her to lay him down in the back seat, but by moving things around and putting down the back, she could fit the sword in diagonally and put him in the front seat. She made sure to put the point nearer the back of the car - she didn't want to be skewered if she made a sudden stop.

She carefully closed the trunk and jammed the keys back into the ignition. Now the hard part...

She opened the passenger side door and leaned the empty seat back a little, then approached the stranger. She circled him twice, uncertain as to how to proceed. Finally she knelt and attempted to roll him onto his back, which she managed with some effort. His shoulder-armor was in the way. She stuffed her driving gloves into her coat pockets and tugged at the straps on his chest, trying to remove the armor. Several unrelated thoughts were rampaging through her head, such as Dang, this guy is built, and What kind of a nut goes out in weather like this with a coat and no shirt?!

Her fingers touched his skin as she undid the straps; it was a slight shock, but once that passed, all she noticed was how cold he was. Too cold. But he was breathing peacefully, and his eyelids were moving. He was dreaming.

Jaz threw the armor in the back seat and dug into her luggage, pulling out a thick decorative blanket that had been intended as a table cloth for her friend Katie's bookstall at the convention. She left the throw blanket in the driver's seat.

After several tries, she managed to pull the man to the passenger side and sit him up. She pulled his hair forward - somehow it was still silky, not matted - so that it wouldn't be in the way, then pulled his right arm over her shoulders and tried to stand, pushing him into the car at the same time.

It took several minutes of arranging to get him in properly. At last, Jaz reached across him and pulled the blanket over him, then fastened the seat belt over that. She pulled his hair out and around to the right side, unintentionally running her fingers through the cool strands. She stopped herself, decided that becoming more fascinated with him would be unhealthy, and contented herself with wondering how he'd managed to get his hair so long in the first place, and how he could stand to keep it that way.

She shut the passenger door carefully, circled around the back of the car to make sure that the trunk was properly closed, and hopped into the driver's seat, slamming her door. She cupped her bare hands and blew into them, electing not to put her gloves back on just yet, and turned the key.

Several silent minutes down the road, the cassette tape in the car's player switched sides with an ominous click.

The player had accidentally been dialed to maximum volume, and Jaz couldn't reach the knobs in time.

The opening cries of "Circle of Life" from The Lion King howled out of the car's speakers.

Jaz yelped; at the same time, the man jolted awake and gasped. Jaz quickly switched off the player, already apologizing as her had flew back to the steering wheel. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean for that to happen... Are you all right?"

The man didn't seem to be paying attention. His eyes were clenched shut, and he was struggling frantically against the confining seat belt and blanket.

Jaz slowed the car to a standstill, close to panic herself. She reached in his direction, unsure of whether she meant to hold him back or merely to try to get his attention, keeping her left hand on the steering wheel. "Hey! It's OK, it's OK -"

He stilled instantly as her hand came to rest on his shoulder. He looked at her through his bangs, suddenly calm.

Blushing, Jaz pulled her hand away and turned her attention back to the road. Now that he was calm, the man easily worked his hands free of the constraints, still looking at her. He brushed his hair away from his face and glanced around, quickly taking in his new surroundings.

"I... I didn't know what to do," Jaz stammered, giving him a quick, sheepish look. "I don't have a cell phone, so I couldn't call for help, so I thought that I could at least get you to a hospital..." She gave a distressed sigh. "I'm really sorry - I didn't even see you until it was too late..." She restrained herself from asking what the deal was with the sword and the shirt-lacking outfit.

The answer to that question was suddenly obvious to her. "Oh... You're on your way to the SteelCon too, huh? I bet you broke down back there somewhere - I never would've seen your car in the snow - that's what happened, right?" She was relieved to have a plausible explanation. She glanced at him again when he didn't answer. "...Right?" she asked more timidly.

He stared at her blankly, then a kind of comprehension dawned on his face. He spoke, but his words, though obviously a statement and a question, were unlike any language that Jaz had ever heard. It sounded like a cross between Japanese and a less flowing European language, possibly Latin based.

Jaz was confused. "What - what language is that? Where are you from?"

The man opened his mouth, then shut it again and sighed, muttering something else. He folded his arms and lowered his head, shaking it.

Jaz glanced at him again, looking more distressed. "You... weren't off to the convention, were you?"

He looked up again, giving her a small, sad, helpless smile.

"I guess not," Jaz sighed, alternating quickly between looking at her passenger and watching the road. She found herself wanting to make the smile less sad and immediately realized that she was blushing again. This time she jerked her head, hoping that her hair would fall forward and hide her face.

The man's smile suddenly disappeared entirely. "Masamune!" he exclaimed, as though he'd just remembered something very important.

"What? What is it? What'd I do?!" Jaz's grip on the steering wheel tightened.

He looked desperate for a moment, unable to communicate. When she looked again, he reached for her arm in order to keep her attention and curled his hands around air, one above the other as though holding something. He swung the invisible something downward -

"Oh! In the back," Jaz gasped in relief. "The sword's in the back." She gestured. "That's it, right?"

He followed her gesture and twisted to look behind his seat, then visibly relaxed. He said something that sounded relieved and gently touched her shoulder as he turned back around.

After a minute or two of riding in silence, Jaz spoke again. "I'm Julia Zelazney, by the way. Not that that means much to you, I guess. Mostly people call me Jaz, OK?" She pointed to herself, hoping that he understood. It always worked in the movies. "Jaz."

He had tilted his head slightly, brow furrowed. His face lightened and he nodded.

"So... what do I call you?" She asked, then tried to make herself clear. She gestured to herself again. "Jaz -" and then to him, holding her palm upward.

He nodded again, somewhat hesitantly, then held his hand flat above his chest. "Sephiroth."

"Sephiroth?" She questioned, trying to make sure. He nodded.

"OK. Sephiroth." She smiled weakly at him. "So... next question: what do I do with you once we get to Pittsburgh?"


Author's Note: The lyrics are from, respectively, "Bad Days" by the Flaming Lips (available on the Batman Forever soundtrack album) and "Blue Night" by Mike Oldfield (available on his album Earth Moving). Thanks for reading! :-)


Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters (particularly Sephiroth) are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes. The same goes for Clock Tower, Tekken 2, Soul Blade, Star Trek, Dark Shadows, Lost in Space, Pepsi, and any other games, television shows, movies, etc. mentioned in this fanfic: all belong to their respective owners. Clock Tower, its story, and characters (particularly Scissorman) are the property, copyright, and trademark of Ascii Entertainment.