"16 years ago the Planet faced its greatest challenge at the hands of
a Shin-Ra project named Sephiroth. He planed on destroying the world and
creating it anew as a God. A misfit band of warriors, lead by the now
famous Cloud Strife, stopped him.
"God that is cliché and boring!"
"Sephi, it's a research paper not a fiction essay."
"It's not the subject, it's my writing. I make it sound like Sephiroth was black and Cloud was white."
"You just lost me there, Ikirumata."
Ikirumata Sephiko sighed, "I don't mean skin color. I mean straight good and evil."
"You're the only person who thinks Sephiroth had a just cause. I would keep that view to myself, especially this week, what with the celebration of the saving of the planet from your hero there."
"He's not my hero and other things are happening this week too you know! Such as my birthday, Nara! I hope you got me a good present!"
"You're having a party I assume?"
"Yep it's gonna be wicked!"
"You better get hurrying with that paper otherwise you're going to fail."
A pair of cold aqua eyes stared at her from the dark. They seemed to glow with some hidden energy.
"Born the day of Death, one in my spirit. I'll not return to the Planet until I'm through!"
Sephiko awoke with a gasp. She shot up in bed and clutched the covers. She'd had this dream before and it was bugging her. It wouldn't be a big deal if didn't happen every year at this time, the week of her birthday, the week of Salvation from Meteor, Salvation from Sephiroth. She shook from the shiver that ran up her back.
"What does it mean?"
The Neo-Midgar High School was located where the old sector 7 slum had been. Only the teachers remembered the day the plate had dropped down on the sector, crushing the slum beneath it.
Sephiko raced through the blue double doors of the cafeteria to the table in the far corner. Today was the beginning of the week of celebration and on the last day was her birthday. She smiled as she sat down next to Nara.
"Okay, I wanna know what you got me!"
"Sephiko! You can't know then it's not a surprise!"
"Feh! Hey, isn't that Strife?"
Nara looked up from the Tapioca pudding infront of her to see a tall young man with brown spiky hair strutting about as if he were a rooster in
a hen house. "Yeah?"
"Hide me!" Sephiko squeaked as he turned their way.
"Oh, not the annual-"
"Ikirumajo!"
"That's Ikirumata, Strife. What do you want?" Sephiko scowled as she
poked at her cup of ramen noodles
"I'm telling you, don't pull anything like last year. This is the
17th anniversary of the Salvation from the Meteor."
"Yeah? Well it's the 17th anniversary of my birth, so shut it! I'm
not gonna listen to you! And I never pulled those pranks! That was the guys' idea because they hate you for acting like you own the place! Stop
being such an anal bastard!"
"Bastard? Me? I wouldn't be talking!"
Sephiko felt a twitch inside her head. He didn't just say that.
"Watch what you say now, Kumo Strife."
"What? That you are a low-life bastard?"
With a sickening thud, Sephiko's fist met the side of the little
punk's head and with another thud he hit the floor.
"Shoulda seen that coming, Strife," Nara said with a smile.
"Ikirumata, Sephiko, Please report to the office immediately."
There were a few groans from the people who had started to watch the
fight and a worried glance exchanged between Nara and Sephiko.
"Darn it, I'll deal with you later, Strife."
"Don't turn your back on me Ikiru-" He stopped suddenly as he watched her pull her duster on as she walked out of the double doors with her long
brown waving behind her. She looks like him he thought to himself. He
started to get up only to be kicked in the back of the head by Nara.
"If she gets kicked out, you are dead, Strife. I don't care who your
parents are."
Ikirumata Fujin sat on the sofa rocking herself back and forth as the man in the red cape looked at the pictures on the mantle. They both turned
as they heard the door click open.
"Mom! Mom I'm home, what's wrong?" the teen yelled pulling off her boots as she entered the house. After a minute of struggling and hopping about, she wiggled the shoes off and tossed her backpack down. She rushed
into the living room.
"Sephiko, I want you to meet someone," Fujin began as she nodded to
the man in the red cape.
"Vincent Valentine," Sephiko said trance-like. Fujin looked at her daughter with a look of shock. Vincent had refused to allow his picture be
taken for histoy books, magazines, papers or anything. Fujin couldn't
comprehend how Sephiko knew him.
"Yes. I am. Pleasure to meet you, Sephiko. You have some intresting eyes there," Vincent said in a cryptic tone. His voice was quiet but sort of rough sounding as if he hadn't spoken in years, which in a way was true.
The thirty years sleeping in a coffin and having no one to talk to had
taken it's toll on more than his voice; but also on his voice and mind.
"They're natural."
"If you have been exposed to massive amounts of Mako."
"Who's to say I haven't?"
"The law, miss."
Sephiko twitched under the stare of his burgundey eyes, "Well, you're
no better, explain those!"
"They are the mark of my penence for my sins for which I must atone. Yours are a mark for those who recognize it to understand and fear. Your
hairstyle is also interesting."
Sephiko brushed her long bangs back and scowled at him, "So?"
"Looks like the hairstyle of a man I once knew. He had the same eyes too. Same taste in clothing, black leather, that is without the tank top."
She felt another twitch inside her and felt a bit dizy, "What do you
want?"
"To get you away from Midgar. Away from Jenova, or what's left of
her."
"What does that petrified, old hag have to do with me?"
"That petrified, old hag may just be your grandmother, in a way."
Sephiko felt her heart stop. The room was spinning now and her vision
was turning red. She quickly closed her eyes. She needed to hold onto something before she fell, but it was too late, she felt herself falling. Then it all stopped and she opened her eyes to see Vincent holding her up.
"You see, Ikirumata Sephiko, even your name says it. Live again
Sephiroth will, through you, or so he believes."
"What-what are you trying to say? That I am Sephiroth's child?"
"Excatly."
And with that, Sephiko fainted in his arms.
"God that is cliché and boring!"
"Sephi, it's a research paper not a fiction essay."
"It's not the subject, it's my writing. I make it sound like Sephiroth was black and Cloud was white."
"You just lost me there, Ikirumata."
Ikirumata Sephiko sighed, "I don't mean skin color. I mean straight good and evil."
"You're the only person who thinks Sephiroth had a just cause. I would keep that view to myself, especially this week, what with the celebration of the saving of the planet from your hero there."
"He's not my hero and other things are happening this week too you know! Such as my birthday, Nara! I hope you got me a good present!"
"You're having a party I assume?"
"Yep it's gonna be wicked!"
"You better get hurrying with that paper otherwise you're going to fail."
A pair of cold aqua eyes stared at her from the dark. They seemed to glow with some hidden energy.
"Born the day of Death, one in my spirit. I'll not return to the Planet until I'm through!"
Sephiko awoke with a gasp. She shot up in bed and clutched the covers. She'd had this dream before and it was bugging her. It wouldn't be a big deal if didn't happen every year at this time, the week of her birthday, the week of Salvation from Meteor, Salvation from Sephiroth. She shook from the shiver that ran up her back.
"What does it mean?"
The Neo-Midgar High School was located where the old sector 7 slum had been. Only the teachers remembered the day the plate had dropped down on the sector, crushing the slum beneath it.
Sephiko raced through the blue double doors of the cafeteria to the table in the far corner. Today was the beginning of the week of celebration and on the last day was her birthday. She smiled as she sat down next to Nara.
"Okay, I wanna know what you got me!"
"Sephiko! You can't know then it's not a surprise!"
"Feh! Hey, isn't that Strife?"
Nara looked up from the Tapioca pudding infront of her to see a tall young man with brown spiky hair strutting about as if he were a rooster in
a hen house. "Yeah?"
"Hide me!" Sephiko squeaked as he turned their way.
"Oh, not the annual-"
"Ikirumajo!"
"That's Ikirumata, Strife. What do you want?" Sephiko scowled as she
poked at her cup of ramen noodles
"I'm telling you, don't pull anything like last year. This is the
17th anniversary of the Salvation from the Meteor."
"Yeah? Well it's the 17th anniversary of my birth, so shut it! I'm
not gonna listen to you! And I never pulled those pranks! That was the guys' idea because they hate you for acting like you own the place! Stop
being such an anal bastard!"
"Bastard? Me? I wouldn't be talking!"
Sephiko felt a twitch inside her head. He didn't just say that.
"Watch what you say now, Kumo Strife."
"What? That you are a low-life bastard?"
With a sickening thud, Sephiko's fist met the side of the little
punk's head and with another thud he hit the floor.
"Shoulda seen that coming, Strife," Nara said with a smile.
"Ikirumata, Sephiko, Please report to the office immediately."
There were a few groans from the people who had started to watch the
fight and a worried glance exchanged between Nara and Sephiko.
"Darn it, I'll deal with you later, Strife."
"Don't turn your back on me Ikiru-" He stopped suddenly as he watched her pull her duster on as she walked out of the double doors with her long
brown waving behind her. She looks like him he thought to himself. He
started to get up only to be kicked in the back of the head by Nara.
"If she gets kicked out, you are dead, Strife. I don't care who your
parents are."
Ikirumata Fujin sat on the sofa rocking herself back and forth as the man in the red cape looked at the pictures on the mantle. They both turned
as they heard the door click open.
"Mom! Mom I'm home, what's wrong?" the teen yelled pulling off her boots as she entered the house. After a minute of struggling and hopping about, she wiggled the shoes off and tossed her backpack down. She rushed
into the living room.
"Sephiko, I want you to meet someone," Fujin began as she nodded to
the man in the red cape.
"Vincent Valentine," Sephiko said trance-like. Fujin looked at her daughter with a look of shock. Vincent had refused to allow his picture be
taken for histoy books, magazines, papers or anything. Fujin couldn't
comprehend how Sephiko knew him.
"Yes. I am. Pleasure to meet you, Sephiko. You have some intresting eyes there," Vincent said in a cryptic tone. His voice was quiet but sort of rough sounding as if he hadn't spoken in years, which in a way was true.
The thirty years sleeping in a coffin and having no one to talk to had
taken it's toll on more than his voice; but also on his voice and mind.
"They're natural."
"If you have been exposed to massive amounts of Mako."
"Who's to say I haven't?"
"The law, miss."
Sephiko twitched under the stare of his burgundey eyes, "Well, you're
no better, explain those!"
"They are the mark of my penence for my sins for which I must atone. Yours are a mark for those who recognize it to understand and fear. Your
hairstyle is also interesting."
Sephiko brushed her long bangs back and scowled at him, "So?"
"Looks like the hairstyle of a man I once knew. He had the same eyes too. Same taste in clothing, black leather, that is without the tank top."
She felt another twitch inside her and felt a bit dizy, "What do you
want?"
"To get you away from Midgar. Away from Jenova, or what's left of
her."
"What does that petrified, old hag have to do with me?"
"That petrified, old hag may just be your grandmother, in a way."
Sephiko felt her heart stop. The room was spinning now and her vision
was turning red. She quickly closed her eyes. She needed to hold onto something before she fell, but it was too late, she felt herself falling. Then it all stopped and she opened her eyes to see Vincent holding her up.
"You see, Ikirumata Sephiko, even your name says it. Live again
Sephiroth will, through you, or so he believes."
"What-what are you trying to say? That I am Sephiroth's child?"
"Excatly."
And with that, Sephiko fainted in his arms.
