// "You think I'm crazy, don't you."
He does nothing, but I know what He's listening, thinking.
"Well maybe I am, I guess I'd have to be wouldn't I." I smile, knowing that He knows, even if He's not looking. "It's ok, cause you're psycho too, just like me, you would have to be."
He does turn then and offers some indiscernible gaze. I suppose He seems vaguely calculating. "I wouldn't have to be," He says.
"Are you?" I try to keep it innocent and playful. But he knows my mind, and turns to leave.//
"Mother and I never owned a television in Nibelheim; in fact, no one did. We listened to the radio, especially during the war. I used to go with my mother to the market to buy groceries, and when there was no other topic of conversation but the war, the women would sometimes speak of a the young general, the one who seemed to appear out of no where to save us all. One of the ladies who had vacationed elsewhere commented on how handsome he was, beautiful even. No one else knew, in Nibelheim no one else had seen him. Even when recruiting posters began to appear in Nibelheim, they weren't plastered with the General's image, rather a large SOLDIER insignia with the ShinRa Electric Power icon overshadowing it. Of course, it was not Sephiroth's appearance alone that captivated so many. I know that I was inspired by the stories of His strength and tactical genius. Of how the General could infiltrate and purge a fortress with just five men, and of how He still managed to conquer Wutai despite the plagues of yellow fever, the contaminated water, the gangrene, lack of food and weapons, and the lack of knowledge regarding the enemy territory. He still won. I never had to see Him to wish to be Him. I invented my own images of Him, they dissolved from my memory when I actually saw Him, I wouldn't be able to describe how I thought He might look. And as I trained to become a recruit, before I had ever been accepted as a member of the ShinRa military, I kept those images of Him. I would think all the time . . . I am doing this for Sephiroth, so that one day I might meet Him, or so one day I might even best Him. Then I became a unit. I didn't make SOLDIER, and I was devastated even though no one else my age had even come close to getting in. But it was when I became a recruit, that the General of the worlds most elite fighting forces, spoke to us as a whole, and congratulated us for becoming members of the military. Never was there such a complete silence as that day, the day He spoke to us. Others had seen Him, I'd heard rumors about His height, or His coloring . . . but no description came close to what I saw. He truly was beautiful, the most beautiful person I'd ever seen. Some of the others, the one's from Gongaga or Bone Village, the others who had never seen Him were equally awed. And He spoke and /no one/ said a word. No one moved or twitched. We scarcely breathed. All anyone could do was /watch/ Him. I heard His voice, and marveled at the commanding, soft, yet even tone, but I did not hear His words. It pains me now, to not know what He said. I didn't have the presence of mind to process His words. I think very few of us did. He had everyone's attention, everyone's respect. When He had finished and taken leave, some of us cried. I think a lot of them mourned because they had not become what they wanted; they had failed to enter SOLDIER. I cried . . . but I wept for beauty. I never even tried to deny that I thought He was beautiful.
"My attraction to another man should have surprised me, but I was so totally infatuated and in awe of Him that I didn't even know how to be surprised. It's hard to explain . . . did you ever meet Sephiroth? Even when He was under Jenova's control you must have been able to sense some of His magnetism. I guess you can say it was sorta like a sleep spell. You don't realize that you're asleep, and nothing seems out of place when you wake up. Does that make sense? Oh well, either way Sephiroth had entranced me. I loved Him. I was obsessed. I watched Him train. I followed Him to staff meetings. I found out when He was going on missions and hid in the air hangar on the off chance He might be flown to wherever He was going. Just for one glimpse.
"Then there was Zack.
"And there was more of Sephiroth than I could comprehend to exist. There was a person behind the façade and the label, one that I wanted to be with and one that I wanted to know. And I do know Him. I know more about Him than any living person should know. But . . . I don't know how I know. I don't know anything anymore."
"And everything else that you have remembered, you have told me?" Vincent shifts his weight inaudibly and eyes me with some prying gaze, as if I am keeping secrets from him.
"Yes, but from whose point of view I can't say."
"That's what I must find out." He turns towards Nibelheim too dramatically.
"I still don't see how it can help, but go ahead and . . . leave."
"Two days Cloud, that's all I ask. The only thing that could keep me from returning is death."
"Don't be so poetic."
"Apologies."
Panic and uncertainty grip me, not because he is receding, quite the opposite. He has stepped much closer to me, and I shut my eyes, not in anticipation but dread and terror. And I remember feeling these spires of fear poke through me like before, and I know what it was like . . . but what is this like. The metal fingers of his claw move gently to grasp my jaw, and I feel tiny spikes of pain but I know he is not intending to hurt me. I bite my lip and try to stare at the ground, try not to look into the candid depths of his eyes.
"Do you think I will kiss you?"
My breath catches and I swallow too hard, nearly choke with the surprise and the acknowledgement. "I don't know."
His other hand, flesh, moves to mirror his claw and again I feel the contrast, the dichotomy within him. "Do you want me to?" His tone is even and controlled, there is no curiosity or tentative timber in his voice.
I squeeze my eyes shut and do not reason. "I don't know." I wonder how he does it. How he can contemplate or fantasize at all. Maybe it's just the time, the years have made him numb. I open my eyes again and the blur is something expected. I haven't seen with clarity in so very long. And his strong hands move my gaze upwards and his metal claw moves the hair out of my eyes.
"Tell me no, Cloud. Tell me what you feel; tell me what you want to tell me."
"I . . ." I blink my tears away and can't decipher what he is saying. No . . . I know what he's saying, I just don't know what I'm thinking. And for some reason it occurs to me in that moment to wonder what he wants. I wonder if he even wants me, or if he's just playing with me, maybe trying to ease the pain that Sephiroth left behind. "What do you want?"
"Only what you do."
"Then you don't know either." His hands, still around my face, loosen, and he recedes a step. "Just go. I'm tired of delaying this. I'm tired."
He nods once and his hands disappear, the wind on my face is chill. I watch him and his wordlessness, as he mounts his bird and leaves. And it isn't until well after he's gone, that I turn away from where I am standing and feel the emptiness grip my stomach, and realize that I am alone. I stumble and fall, and drag myself to the caves, like I'd planned. And I place myself high up on the rocks, on some proverbial pedestal. I don't know why. And I realize how sick I am, that if it weren't for Vincent I'd be dead. And for some reason this feeling that unknown centrifugal force is sucking me into some black hole is familiar. It is physical, I feel everything whirling and spinning around me and I feel my limbs plastered to the rock and my stomach churns. And then I feel the wind. And I am calm.
I feel like I'm falling, but the weightlessness and the lack of restraints does not unnerve me like whatever crushing power had possessed me before. I'm flying. And it seems so . . . familiar. When was it that I used to fly . . . oh yeah, with Him. We flew all over the world and never ever had to go anywhere. If I close my eyes I can imagine Him standing above me. Wait my eyes were already closed and He was already there, arms outstretched, waiting to hold me. But my eyes are open and they have been ever since I fell . . . I fell? I don't turn away from Him, even though He is close enough to me that no matter which way I turn His image would envelop my vision. But I guess I somehow flailed off of the rock I had been laying on. At least now I know "I must be dreaming." Something shifts in the back of my mind and Sephiroth gives me some intense look of anticipation.
"Is there a day that goes by that you don't say that?"
It seems strange that He speaks. Because my mind is still in the present, so is my body. "Huh?"
"Perhaps you should try and understand exactly what the real world is like."
"But this isn't the real world . . . it can't be, not when You are here." I don't remember ever having this conversation.
"And of course the foolish attitude, as to be expected."
"But You're dead." And the rush of air is sudden and even though I once found solace there, the sheer swiftness of His movement and the swirling wind about us makes me cringe. And I am flat on my back and His arms make a great cage around me, and He stares into my face . . . eye to eye.
"Am I?" He chuckles a little, mostly to Himself. "It may be my tragic flaw." He reaches one hand up slowly, somehow defying all gravity with balanced poise directly above me. His knuckles brush my face and I try to get away. Whatever this is it's cruel. I can feel the rocks digging into my spine and the back of my head, and I can feel His breath on my lips He is so close. And I try to see past him but all I see are the partially collapsed cave walls and the swirling masses of gray and Mako. I am in the Frog Forest. And so is He. I still know it's not possible, that this apparition is only in my mind. It will be dissipated like any mirage. I throw my arms around His broad shoulders, expecting disappearance, but I still feel Him. And I cling to Him like He's real, maybe He is.
"How? Why, Seph? Why?" There are so many questions in my mind I can't even say one or pick one. Why are you here? How did you get here? Why did you let Jenova into your mind? Why did you leave me?
He uses His free arm to embrace me and hold me. "I didn't intend to." Of course He doesn't even need to listen to me speak any questions. And of course I don't need an apology. I bury my face in His hair and cry, trying to maintain at least a little bit of control.
"I missed You . . . I miss You still, I wish You were really here. Oh well it doesn't matter . . . why didn't You come sooner?"
He flows to the ground at my side, still embracing me with one arm. "I wanted to."
I kiss Him and it feels /so/ real. I run my hands through His hair and across His chest, marveling at the sheer authenticity of it all. "I almost died without You."
"I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to."
"I know You didn't, I know it's not Your fault. I love You so much Seph."
"I know. . ."
But the question is still in the back of my mind, and even though I do realize that this isn't real, but that I should still enjoy it, maybe I should ask Him the one question that has been plaguing me the most and the longest.
"What?"
But of course he already knows what I want to ask Him. He knows everything. "Do you love me Sephiroth?" And I avert my eyes from a figment of my imagination and try not to think of how low I am.
"I didn't know."
My head snaps up to gaze into His too-real eyes. . . "You didn't know? What's that supposed to mean?"
"You are the only person who ever meant anything to me."
I relax a little . . . He always needs to be cryptic even still. "I can live with that." He does not say anything, and His aura is ghostly, almost shifting and celestial, yet physically, he is like stone. I try to think of something to say, anything to keep Him here. "If it weren't for Vincent I'd be dead. He really helped me out, he . . ." And too suddenly I recall that there have been demons spawned in my mind about Vincent . . . things I have been forced to suppress and urges that I should never have indulged.
"You're wrong . . ."
He is not talking about the fact that Vincent saved my life. And I am wrong, I am sick and wrong and disturbing. I don't deserve anything, not even the presence of this ghost. "Y-you think it wrong of me . . . to have such thoughts about . . . Vincent . . ."
". . . I do."
"Oh Seph I am so so sorry I couldn't help it, I am just some pathetic fool and I can't control myself. You know I love you, you know I would kill for you or die for you or do anything in the entire world for you." Images flash through my mind in too bright sudden bursts. Sephiroth at the reactor, me defying Him choosing to ignore His destiny and angry with Him for hurting so many people. That day I did not kill for Him, that day I killed Him. And then later every time I saw Him, Him speaking of His fate and the Promised Land, and me destroying His dreams and His aspirations. And lastly me again, killing Him, never batting an eye, simply extinguishing His life as if I never loved Him. "I'm so so sorry, please forgive me, please."
And then I lean in to kiss Him, but He is not there. I open my eyes and He is gone. I sit up and I feel too small as I gaze around the cave, all alone, and miserable. It is dark outside, and I can hear crickets chirping. So . . . it was just an illusion, just some image, some sequence of events my mind conjured up . . . only . . . as of yet, I have only remembered things from the past . . . I never had that conversation with Him. Maybe . . . maybe . . . He actually was trying to contact me, whether spiritually or physically it doesn't matter . . . maybe He actually truly did love me.
I stumble quickly to my feet . . . "Oh please . . . why . . ." I wonder where my sword is and stagger through the rocks, wondering where I had discarded it. "Just fuck it!!" I scream and collapse on me knees, enjoying the pain of gouging friction. I don't deserve death . . . I can at least comprehend that. I killed the man I love, the man that loved me . . . He did say that didn't He? Maybe not in those exact words but surely He meant it . . . He . . . surely He was here, not but a moment ago. I wipe the tears from my eyes. I was looking for something, wasn't I? It must have been some place, the place where He disappeared to, wasn't it? That must have been what I was looking for. He was always hiding and dodging me and hiding . . . always . . . I'm so tired of games, I don't want to play anymore. I wish He wouldn't hide. "Please come out . . ." Maybe I should just go to sleep. Feel kinda like just . . . never waking up . . . but I guess I'm not allowed to anymore, I guess I have to stay as long as I can . . . need to find Him anyways. I slide down hard to the gritty floor and ignore the rocks imbedding themselves into my forearms and face. All I need to do now is sleep. That's all there is to do now . . . that's all there is.
//I wake up in His bed, it's safe . . . ordinary even. I look outside and it is very dark, it must be very early. The clock is buried beneath layers of discarded clothing, I toss my shirt and His gloves aside. It is three in the morning. The first thought that enters my mind is that it is my birthday. The second is that He is gone. I sigh and blow hair out of my face. The least He could have done was stay with me, especially on my birthday. I traipse through His apartments on the off chance that He is either a) in the kitchen or b) in the bathroom. He is neither place. I flop onto the couch indignantly and turn on the television, planning to wait there until He returns so I can scold Him for running out on me, today of all days. And I realize quickly that the infomercials are covered by a square piece of paper, taped to the T.V. I look around, just in case He's lurking in some hallway, and quickly decide that He must have gone out. I grab the note, turn on the lights and read. The note says:
"If you are reading this, it means you have woken up at around three o'clock, like you do every night. You may have noticed that I am conspicuously absent. If you would like to see me, and rest assured you most certainly do, then you will have to find me. I wont leave the floor, I can give you that much, but the rest is entirely up you. I wish you good luck, and good hunting.
P.S. Happy Birthday"
He really is too cute sometimes. And annoying too. Cute though. Just to irk Him, I throw on a pair of His pants and one of His shirts, then two of His best socks . . . board meeting type socks. I put on my own boots, give the apartment a once over, I don't put it past Him to trick me by hiding somewhere painfully obvious. He isn't here. I step outside cautiously; He may be planning an ambush. The halls are very dark and very empty. I let my eyes adjust, and see no gleaming of silver sword or hair, and continue forward. I think to myself, if I were Sephiroth, where would I hide. He is especially talented at blending in with shadows. In this darkness He might hide under a table and I would bypass Him completely. I check the lounge first. If I turned on the lights I would alert someone and someone would give me hell about breaking curfew and I really don't want to deal with it. It is darker in here than the halls. There is no light for my eyes to take in. He could be standing in the middle of the room and I would not see Him. I sigh, and turn the lights on, fuck curfew and fuck the night watch.
First glance reveals the lounge to be unoccupied, but first glances can be deceiving. I look under all the tables, behind the couches and soda machines, I even check the fridge. I shut the door a little irritably. The lounge is too obvious anyways, and just so . . . unSephiroth. I doubt He's ever lounged in His life. And He wouldn't be in the kitchens, because He would assume that that's exactly where I would go if I got sidetracked. He wouldn't dare hide in someone's room would He? I prop my hand on my hip, and opt to check the training center then just go back to bed if He's not there. It's late and I'm tired anyways. I turn of the lights and grope through the dark hallways, until I reach the training center.
I sigh exasperated when I do not see Him here. Of course He still might be hiding. I check the locker area, the showers, the pool, behind every weight machine. It's ridiculous really, having me on some insane pursuit on my birthday, almost rude. "Fuck it." And I turn to go back to sleep. When I am halfway back to His apartment I realize He is probably there waiting for me. I should have tried back sooner really. And when I enter the apartment it is still dark. I hold my breath for a few moments just in case He has planned a surprise party and my company flashes the lights on and yells "Surprise!" But there is no one else here. I enter the bedroom and He is sitting on the bed wearing only a pair of my off-day shorts. I glance down at my own attire and gleefully remove my boots.
"I guess I should air out your designer socks. They got sweaty."
He lifts a casual eyebrow and tilts His head just slightly. "I shouldn't have trusted you alone with my socks."
"No, You shouldn't have." I smile and flop onto the bed heavily. "So what did you get me for my birthday?"
"You think I got you something?"
"Well . . . I'd hoped you did. I guess if you forgot you could spend a quiet evening alone on the couch and leave the bed for me."
"I don't trust you alone with my bed either."
I laugh. "Seriously, Seph, what'd ya get me? It better not be practical."
"Of course its practical. Here." He protrudes from His pocket, or rather /my/ pocket, a small green orb.
"Materia? I can deal with that. What kind is it?" I hold it up to the moonlight filtering through the window, feigning identification when really I am only contrasting the color to the hue of His eyes.
"Lightning. Indeed it is nothing impressive, simply practical."
"No I like it. Thank you." I lean in to kiss Him and He pushes me back.
"Do you really think I'm that prudent?"
" . . . it's not cheap--"
"Look under the bed."
"You're silly, Seph." And I lean over the side of the bed and wonder how I had missed that great mass of glinting metal beneath. With only slight resistance, out slides a shining new sword.
"This one is your own, and not the companies."
It's a nice sword, and suitable for my level of skill. I slide my materia into the slot and watch the hilt glow silent green. "Wow, Seph. You didn't have to do all this . . ."
" . . . I owe it to you." His voice is soft.
"Thank you . . ." I lean down to kiss Him and He pushes me away.
"I'm not much fun am I?"
"Oh I'll have fun using these to wipe the floor with you."
"I'm sure. But just in case . . ." He reaches for His other pocket and protrudes a small object. He grasps my hand and tilts it open-palmed beneath His own. He drops His next gift into my hand. "An earring? Bit I don't have my ear pierced."
"That's the fun part."
" . . . what are you gonna do it?"
"Of course."
I laugh. "You're sweet. I bet most people's boyfriends don't put wholes in their heads, I just got lucky. Really though thank you . . . for everything."
"Ahhh, but you still have one more gift."
"Really? What is it?"
He smiles coyly and cups my jaw and leans forward to kiss me.
" . . . that's exactly what I wanted."
"Happy birthday."//
He does nothing, but I know what He's listening, thinking.
"Well maybe I am, I guess I'd have to be wouldn't I." I smile, knowing that He knows, even if He's not looking. "It's ok, cause you're psycho too, just like me, you would have to be."
He does turn then and offers some indiscernible gaze. I suppose He seems vaguely calculating. "I wouldn't have to be," He says.
"Are you?" I try to keep it innocent and playful. But he knows my mind, and turns to leave.//
"Mother and I never owned a television in Nibelheim; in fact, no one did. We listened to the radio, especially during the war. I used to go with my mother to the market to buy groceries, and when there was no other topic of conversation but the war, the women would sometimes speak of a the young general, the one who seemed to appear out of no where to save us all. One of the ladies who had vacationed elsewhere commented on how handsome he was, beautiful even. No one else knew, in Nibelheim no one else had seen him. Even when recruiting posters began to appear in Nibelheim, they weren't plastered with the General's image, rather a large SOLDIER insignia with the ShinRa Electric Power icon overshadowing it. Of course, it was not Sephiroth's appearance alone that captivated so many. I know that I was inspired by the stories of His strength and tactical genius. Of how the General could infiltrate and purge a fortress with just five men, and of how He still managed to conquer Wutai despite the plagues of yellow fever, the contaminated water, the gangrene, lack of food and weapons, and the lack of knowledge regarding the enemy territory. He still won. I never had to see Him to wish to be Him. I invented my own images of Him, they dissolved from my memory when I actually saw Him, I wouldn't be able to describe how I thought He might look. And as I trained to become a recruit, before I had ever been accepted as a member of the ShinRa military, I kept those images of Him. I would think all the time . . . I am doing this for Sephiroth, so that one day I might meet Him, or so one day I might even best Him. Then I became a unit. I didn't make SOLDIER, and I was devastated even though no one else my age had even come close to getting in. But it was when I became a recruit, that the General of the worlds most elite fighting forces, spoke to us as a whole, and congratulated us for becoming members of the military. Never was there such a complete silence as that day, the day He spoke to us. Others had seen Him, I'd heard rumors about His height, or His coloring . . . but no description came close to what I saw. He truly was beautiful, the most beautiful person I'd ever seen. Some of the others, the one's from Gongaga or Bone Village, the others who had never seen Him were equally awed. And He spoke and /no one/ said a word. No one moved or twitched. We scarcely breathed. All anyone could do was /watch/ Him. I heard His voice, and marveled at the commanding, soft, yet even tone, but I did not hear His words. It pains me now, to not know what He said. I didn't have the presence of mind to process His words. I think very few of us did. He had everyone's attention, everyone's respect. When He had finished and taken leave, some of us cried. I think a lot of them mourned because they had not become what they wanted; they had failed to enter SOLDIER. I cried . . . but I wept for beauty. I never even tried to deny that I thought He was beautiful.
"My attraction to another man should have surprised me, but I was so totally infatuated and in awe of Him that I didn't even know how to be surprised. It's hard to explain . . . did you ever meet Sephiroth? Even when He was under Jenova's control you must have been able to sense some of His magnetism. I guess you can say it was sorta like a sleep spell. You don't realize that you're asleep, and nothing seems out of place when you wake up. Does that make sense? Oh well, either way Sephiroth had entranced me. I loved Him. I was obsessed. I watched Him train. I followed Him to staff meetings. I found out when He was going on missions and hid in the air hangar on the off chance He might be flown to wherever He was going. Just for one glimpse.
"Then there was Zack.
"And there was more of Sephiroth than I could comprehend to exist. There was a person behind the façade and the label, one that I wanted to be with and one that I wanted to know. And I do know Him. I know more about Him than any living person should know. But . . . I don't know how I know. I don't know anything anymore."
"And everything else that you have remembered, you have told me?" Vincent shifts his weight inaudibly and eyes me with some prying gaze, as if I am keeping secrets from him.
"Yes, but from whose point of view I can't say."
"That's what I must find out." He turns towards Nibelheim too dramatically.
"I still don't see how it can help, but go ahead and . . . leave."
"Two days Cloud, that's all I ask. The only thing that could keep me from returning is death."
"Don't be so poetic."
"Apologies."
Panic and uncertainty grip me, not because he is receding, quite the opposite. He has stepped much closer to me, and I shut my eyes, not in anticipation but dread and terror. And I remember feeling these spires of fear poke through me like before, and I know what it was like . . . but what is this like. The metal fingers of his claw move gently to grasp my jaw, and I feel tiny spikes of pain but I know he is not intending to hurt me. I bite my lip and try to stare at the ground, try not to look into the candid depths of his eyes.
"Do you think I will kiss you?"
My breath catches and I swallow too hard, nearly choke with the surprise and the acknowledgement. "I don't know."
His other hand, flesh, moves to mirror his claw and again I feel the contrast, the dichotomy within him. "Do you want me to?" His tone is even and controlled, there is no curiosity or tentative timber in his voice.
I squeeze my eyes shut and do not reason. "I don't know." I wonder how he does it. How he can contemplate or fantasize at all. Maybe it's just the time, the years have made him numb. I open my eyes again and the blur is something expected. I haven't seen with clarity in so very long. And his strong hands move my gaze upwards and his metal claw moves the hair out of my eyes.
"Tell me no, Cloud. Tell me what you feel; tell me what you want to tell me."
"I . . ." I blink my tears away and can't decipher what he is saying. No . . . I know what he's saying, I just don't know what I'm thinking. And for some reason it occurs to me in that moment to wonder what he wants. I wonder if he even wants me, or if he's just playing with me, maybe trying to ease the pain that Sephiroth left behind. "What do you want?"
"Only what you do."
"Then you don't know either." His hands, still around my face, loosen, and he recedes a step. "Just go. I'm tired of delaying this. I'm tired."
He nods once and his hands disappear, the wind on my face is chill. I watch him and his wordlessness, as he mounts his bird and leaves. And it isn't until well after he's gone, that I turn away from where I am standing and feel the emptiness grip my stomach, and realize that I am alone. I stumble and fall, and drag myself to the caves, like I'd planned. And I place myself high up on the rocks, on some proverbial pedestal. I don't know why. And I realize how sick I am, that if it weren't for Vincent I'd be dead. And for some reason this feeling that unknown centrifugal force is sucking me into some black hole is familiar. It is physical, I feel everything whirling and spinning around me and I feel my limbs plastered to the rock and my stomach churns. And then I feel the wind. And I am calm.
I feel like I'm falling, but the weightlessness and the lack of restraints does not unnerve me like whatever crushing power had possessed me before. I'm flying. And it seems so . . . familiar. When was it that I used to fly . . . oh yeah, with Him. We flew all over the world and never ever had to go anywhere. If I close my eyes I can imagine Him standing above me. Wait my eyes were already closed and He was already there, arms outstretched, waiting to hold me. But my eyes are open and they have been ever since I fell . . . I fell? I don't turn away from Him, even though He is close enough to me that no matter which way I turn His image would envelop my vision. But I guess I somehow flailed off of the rock I had been laying on. At least now I know "I must be dreaming." Something shifts in the back of my mind and Sephiroth gives me some intense look of anticipation.
"Is there a day that goes by that you don't say that?"
It seems strange that He speaks. Because my mind is still in the present, so is my body. "Huh?"
"Perhaps you should try and understand exactly what the real world is like."
"But this isn't the real world . . . it can't be, not when You are here." I don't remember ever having this conversation.
"And of course the foolish attitude, as to be expected."
"But You're dead." And the rush of air is sudden and even though I once found solace there, the sheer swiftness of His movement and the swirling wind about us makes me cringe. And I am flat on my back and His arms make a great cage around me, and He stares into my face . . . eye to eye.
"Am I?" He chuckles a little, mostly to Himself. "It may be my tragic flaw." He reaches one hand up slowly, somehow defying all gravity with balanced poise directly above me. His knuckles brush my face and I try to get away. Whatever this is it's cruel. I can feel the rocks digging into my spine and the back of my head, and I can feel His breath on my lips He is so close. And I try to see past him but all I see are the partially collapsed cave walls and the swirling masses of gray and Mako. I am in the Frog Forest. And so is He. I still know it's not possible, that this apparition is only in my mind. It will be dissipated like any mirage. I throw my arms around His broad shoulders, expecting disappearance, but I still feel Him. And I cling to Him like He's real, maybe He is.
"How? Why, Seph? Why?" There are so many questions in my mind I can't even say one or pick one. Why are you here? How did you get here? Why did you let Jenova into your mind? Why did you leave me?
He uses His free arm to embrace me and hold me. "I didn't intend to." Of course He doesn't even need to listen to me speak any questions. And of course I don't need an apology. I bury my face in His hair and cry, trying to maintain at least a little bit of control.
"I missed You . . . I miss You still, I wish You were really here. Oh well it doesn't matter . . . why didn't You come sooner?"
He flows to the ground at my side, still embracing me with one arm. "I wanted to."
I kiss Him and it feels /so/ real. I run my hands through His hair and across His chest, marveling at the sheer authenticity of it all. "I almost died without You."
"I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to."
"I know You didn't, I know it's not Your fault. I love You so much Seph."
"I know. . ."
But the question is still in the back of my mind, and even though I do realize that this isn't real, but that I should still enjoy it, maybe I should ask Him the one question that has been plaguing me the most and the longest.
"What?"
But of course he already knows what I want to ask Him. He knows everything. "Do you love me Sephiroth?" And I avert my eyes from a figment of my imagination and try not to think of how low I am.
"I didn't know."
My head snaps up to gaze into His too-real eyes. . . "You didn't know? What's that supposed to mean?"
"You are the only person who ever meant anything to me."
I relax a little . . . He always needs to be cryptic even still. "I can live with that." He does not say anything, and His aura is ghostly, almost shifting and celestial, yet physically, he is like stone. I try to think of something to say, anything to keep Him here. "If it weren't for Vincent I'd be dead. He really helped me out, he . . ." And too suddenly I recall that there have been demons spawned in my mind about Vincent . . . things I have been forced to suppress and urges that I should never have indulged.
"You're wrong . . ."
He is not talking about the fact that Vincent saved my life. And I am wrong, I am sick and wrong and disturbing. I don't deserve anything, not even the presence of this ghost. "Y-you think it wrong of me . . . to have such thoughts about . . . Vincent . . ."
". . . I do."
"Oh Seph I am so so sorry I couldn't help it, I am just some pathetic fool and I can't control myself. You know I love you, you know I would kill for you or die for you or do anything in the entire world for you." Images flash through my mind in too bright sudden bursts. Sephiroth at the reactor, me defying Him choosing to ignore His destiny and angry with Him for hurting so many people. That day I did not kill for Him, that day I killed Him. And then later every time I saw Him, Him speaking of His fate and the Promised Land, and me destroying His dreams and His aspirations. And lastly me again, killing Him, never batting an eye, simply extinguishing His life as if I never loved Him. "I'm so so sorry, please forgive me, please."
And then I lean in to kiss Him, but He is not there. I open my eyes and He is gone. I sit up and I feel too small as I gaze around the cave, all alone, and miserable. It is dark outside, and I can hear crickets chirping. So . . . it was just an illusion, just some image, some sequence of events my mind conjured up . . . only . . . as of yet, I have only remembered things from the past . . . I never had that conversation with Him. Maybe . . . maybe . . . He actually was trying to contact me, whether spiritually or physically it doesn't matter . . . maybe He actually truly did love me.
I stumble quickly to my feet . . . "Oh please . . . why . . ." I wonder where my sword is and stagger through the rocks, wondering where I had discarded it. "Just fuck it!!" I scream and collapse on me knees, enjoying the pain of gouging friction. I don't deserve death . . . I can at least comprehend that. I killed the man I love, the man that loved me . . . He did say that didn't He? Maybe not in those exact words but surely He meant it . . . He . . . surely He was here, not but a moment ago. I wipe the tears from my eyes. I was looking for something, wasn't I? It must have been some place, the place where He disappeared to, wasn't it? That must have been what I was looking for. He was always hiding and dodging me and hiding . . . always . . . I'm so tired of games, I don't want to play anymore. I wish He wouldn't hide. "Please come out . . ." Maybe I should just go to sleep. Feel kinda like just . . . never waking up . . . but I guess I'm not allowed to anymore, I guess I have to stay as long as I can . . . need to find Him anyways. I slide down hard to the gritty floor and ignore the rocks imbedding themselves into my forearms and face. All I need to do now is sleep. That's all there is to do now . . . that's all there is.
//I wake up in His bed, it's safe . . . ordinary even. I look outside and it is very dark, it must be very early. The clock is buried beneath layers of discarded clothing, I toss my shirt and His gloves aside. It is three in the morning. The first thought that enters my mind is that it is my birthday. The second is that He is gone. I sigh and blow hair out of my face. The least He could have done was stay with me, especially on my birthday. I traipse through His apartments on the off chance that He is either a) in the kitchen or b) in the bathroom. He is neither place. I flop onto the couch indignantly and turn on the television, planning to wait there until He returns so I can scold Him for running out on me, today of all days. And I realize quickly that the infomercials are covered by a square piece of paper, taped to the T.V. I look around, just in case He's lurking in some hallway, and quickly decide that He must have gone out. I grab the note, turn on the lights and read. The note says:
"If you are reading this, it means you have woken up at around three o'clock, like you do every night. You may have noticed that I am conspicuously absent. If you would like to see me, and rest assured you most certainly do, then you will have to find me. I wont leave the floor, I can give you that much, but the rest is entirely up you. I wish you good luck, and good hunting.
P.S. Happy Birthday"
He really is too cute sometimes. And annoying too. Cute though. Just to irk Him, I throw on a pair of His pants and one of His shirts, then two of His best socks . . . board meeting type socks. I put on my own boots, give the apartment a once over, I don't put it past Him to trick me by hiding somewhere painfully obvious. He isn't here. I step outside cautiously; He may be planning an ambush. The halls are very dark and very empty. I let my eyes adjust, and see no gleaming of silver sword or hair, and continue forward. I think to myself, if I were Sephiroth, where would I hide. He is especially talented at blending in with shadows. In this darkness He might hide under a table and I would bypass Him completely. I check the lounge first. If I turned on the lights I would alert someone and someone would give me hell about breaking curfew and I really don't want to deal with it. It is darker in here than the halls. There is no light for my eyes to take in. He could be standing in the middle of the room and I would not see Him. I sigh, and turn the lights on, fuck curfew and fuck the night watch.
First glance reveals the lounge to be unoccupied, but first glances can be deceiving. I look under all the tables, behind the couches and soda machines, I even check the fridge. I shut the door a little irritably. The lounge is too obvious anyways, and just so . . . unSephiroth. I doubt He's ever lounged in His life. And He wouldn't be in the kitchens, because He would assume that that's exactly where I would go if I got sidetracked. He wouldn't dare hide in someone's room would He? I prop my hand on my hip, and opt to check the training center then just go back to bed if He's not there. It's late and I'm tired anyways. I turn of the lights and grope through the dark hallways, until I reach the training center.
I sigh exasperated when I do not see Him here. Of course He still might be hiding. I check the locker area, the showers, the pool, behind every weight machine. It's ridiculous really, having me on some insane pursuit on my birthday, almost rude. "Fuck it." And I turn to go back to sleep. When I am halfway back to His apartment I realize He is probably there waiting for me. I should have tried back sooner really. And when I enter the apartment it is still dark. I hold my breath for a few moments just in case He has planned a surprise party and my company flashes the lights on and yells "Surprise!" But there is no one else here. I enter the bedroom and He is sitting on the bed wearing only a pair of my off-day shorts. I glance down at my own attire and gleefully remove my boots.
"I guess I should air out your designer socks. They got sweaty."
He lifts a casual eyebrow and tilts His head just slightly. "I shouldn't have trusted you alone with my socks."
"No, You shouldn't have." I smile and flop onto the bed heavily. "So what did you get me for my birthday?"
"You think I got you something?"
"Well . . . I'd hoped you did. I guess if you forgot you could spend a quiet evening alone on the couch and leave the bed for me."
"I don't trust you alone with my bed either."
I laugh. "Seriously, Seph, what'd ya get me? It better not be practical."
"Of course its practical. Here." He protrudes from His pocket, or rather /my/ pocket, a small green orb.
"Materia? I can deal with that. What kind is it?" I hold it up to the moonlight filtering through the window, feigning identification when really I am only contrasting the color to the hue of His eyes.
"Lightning. Indeed it is nothing impressive, simply practical."
"No I like it. Thank you." I lean in to kiss Him and He pushes me back.
"Do you really think I'm that prudent?"
" . . . it's not cheap--"
"Look under the bed."
"You're silly, Seph." And I lean over the side of the bed and wonder how I had missed that great mass of glinting metal beneath. With only slight resistance, out slides a shining new sword.
"This one is your own, and not the companies."
It's a nice sword, and suitable for my level of skill. I slide my materia into the slot and watch the hilt glow silent green. "Wow, Seph. You didn't have to do all this . . ."
" . . . I owe it to you." His voice is soft.
"Thank you . . ." I lean down to kiss Him and He pushes me away.
"I'm not much fun am I?"
"Oh I'll have fun using these to wipe the floor with you."
"I'm sure. But just in case . . ." He reaches for His other pocket and protrudes a small object. He grasps my hand and tilts it open-palmed beneath His own. He drops His next gift into my hand. "An earring? Bit I don't have my ear pierced."
"That's the fun part."
" . . . what are you gonna do it?"
"Of course."
I laugh. "You're sweet. I bet most people's boyfriends don't put wholes in their heads, I just got lucky. Really though thank you . . . for everything."
"Ahhh, but you still have one more gift."
"Really? What is it?"
He smiles coyly and cups my jaw and leans forward to kiss me.
" . . . that's exactly what I wanted."
"Happy birthday."//