Another Time, Perhaps
By mihoyonagi
Chapter II
Aerith stared out the window, deeply inhaling the stale, gummy-ship air. She let out her breath in an elongated sigh. Though space was beautiful, there was a certain eeriness about it, a strange feeling that came over the chestnut-haired young woman every time she looked out into the darkness, small lights scattered across the backdrop. It was as if perpetual night reigned over the cosmos, and as much as Aerith enjoyed the night- the coolness, the stars, the calmness that seemingly befalls all once the dark shroud has been placed on the surface- she longed for the day. The sun always greeted those waking, warm and bright, the epitome of happiness.
She sighed heavily once more, shifting her position slightly on the couch. She was glad that Cid's ship was so large- a kitchen and a recreational room was enough to make any other gummy-ship owner jealous. Aerith continued to stare into space. A wave of goose bumps ran down her back, and over her legs and arms as she sat pensively thinking how small and delicate humans really were.
Suddenly, the lights flickered on and a tall, silver-haired intruder broke Aerith's concentration. Apparently, he hadn't seen her when he entered. He made his way to the kitchen, digging through the cupboards as if he had done so everyday of his life.
"What are you doing?" Aerith growled, furrowing her brow.
Sephiroth turned on his heel to face the figure that had spoken. He shrugged, nonchalantly. "I'm hungry," Sephiroth answered, simply.
Aerith didn't take her eyes off of the man before her as he went back to rummaging around the cupboards. Sephiroth pulled a small brown package from the cupboard and proceeded to fill the teakettle with warm water. He set it on the stove and turned the knob, directing the arrow to 'high'. He leaned against the counter and read the back of the package.
Curiosity got the better of Aerith. "What are you making?" She attempted to make her voice sound as if she didn't care.
"Hot cocoa," Sephiroth replied, flipping the package over and scanning over the other side. "Would you like some?" he asked, not bothering to look up.
Hesitantly, Aerith bit her lip. 'What is he trying to pull?' she thought to herself.
Sephiroth looked up from the package. "Aerith?"
Shaken from thought by his voice, Aerith nodded. "Yes. That sounds wonderful." Her voice was devoid of pleasure, however.
Nodding, Sephiroth retrieved another small package from the cupboard. "I want you to know," he began, tentatively. "I mean you no harm."
Aerith glared at him.
Sephiroth rolled his eyes. "I don't expect forgiveness, or anything of the sort. I simply wish for you to understand that I wasn't in control of my body when," he paused, his face softening slightly. "It wasn't me who killed you."
Biting her lip, Aerith didn't know what to say. Hatred, of course, was what she felt most openly toward this man. But he had agreed to help her look for Cloud. He hadn't tried to do anything crazy since they boarded the ship. But trust wasn't an option, was it?
The kettle on the stove began to whistle. Sephiroth turned his attention to that. He pulled two coffee cups from the hooks they hung from and poured them full of hot water. Carefully, he ripped open the small packages of powdered cocoa mix and dumped the contents into the cups. Retrieving two spoons from the drawer, he stirred the mixture until it ran smooth. Carefully, he picked up both cups and made his way over to the couch Aerith sat upon.
He bent down, holding out a cup to her.
Aerith realized how large he really was. He stood tall, and his hair flowed over this shoulders like a river of silver against the very black of a moonless, starless night.
Carefully, she took the cup from his gloved hands. Oddly, she recalled never seeing so much clothing on a person before. The only skin that was visible was that on his face, and part of his chest. His boots were high, and his clothing looked rather heavy.
For the second time that night, Aerith's curiosity got the best of her. "Why do you wear so much clothing?" she inquired, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. Instantly, she regretted doing such, as the hot liquid burnt her tongue. She made a face that ranged between disgust and pain.
Sephiroth couldn't help but chuckle quietly. His voice was deep and rang out in his throat. He took a sip of his own hot chocolate.
Aerith began to wonder if he had heard her question, or if he simply wasn't comfortable answering it. Sephiroth sat down at the other side of the couch, sighing heavily and gazing intently out the large window, into the depths of space. He took another sip from the cup.
Opening her mouth to ask her question again, Aerith was cut short by a most hesitated answer. "I do not like to be touched." He answered, slowly.
Opening her mouth to apologize, though knowing her words would do no good, Aerith suddenly clamped her lips shut, tight. Her mind drifted back to the world they had come from, and all the horrible things the man next to her had done.
Reading her facial emotions from the corner of his eye, Sephiroth chuckled slightly. "I don't deserve your worry," he waved his hand in the air to signify he dismissed the almost-pity she gave him.
Sucking in her breath and puffing her chest out, Aerith mustered all the bravery she had inside her tiny, thin figure. "Why don't you like to be touched?"
Taking another sip of his hot cocoa, Sephiroth fell silent. He didn't move his gaze from that of space. The stars reflected their light against his crystalline eyes, bouncing back into the endless abyss from where they came. He sighed very heavily, as if he wasn't sure about how to answer the question- as if the weight of the world had been placed on such a small inquiry.
Aerith remained silent.
Finally, Sephiroth spoke. "My earliest memories are those of pain and suffering. Horrible people doing horrible things to me, and I being young and unable to defend myself fell victim to their experiments. My father was no father, and my mother-" here, he paused, drawing in a deep breath. "My mother, though I now know she was not, in fact, Jenova, as the evil witch had convinced me for so long, was a kind woman, or so from what I gather. I never had a chance to meet the woman who truly gave me life." He casually took another sip of his hot cocoa.
Aerith smiled faintly, despite her feelings toward the man whom sat across from her on the couch. "My father died when I was young, and my mother joined him soon after. My foster mother was kind, but life in Midgar was far from it."
Sephiroth nodded, stirring the mixture in his cup with his spoon. "Those who live in the slums are often beat down by them. Life has never been fair for anyone, but it has always been vindictively cruel to those under the pillar."
Not knowing what to say, Aerith took another sip of her hot cocoa. It had cooled down and when she drank it, it was pleasantly warm and sweet.
Thoughts ran across Aerith's mind. 'Could it be that he really isn't so bad?' she pondered to herself. 'He claims that all he did wasn't really him, but Jenova in control of his body.' She sighed and took another drink from her cup. 'Perhaps when I speak with Cloud, things will become less confusing…'
Up ending his cup, Sephiroth greedily gulped down the last of the sweet cocoa from his mug. "It will take us another few hours to get back to Travers Town. I am going to have myself a nap. I suggest that you do the same." With that, he stood and walked to the kitchen, placing his glass into the sink. He walked out the door and toward the cabins.
Aerith was left to think, and that she did. Slowly, she finished off the rest of her drink, but her thoughts did anything but dissipate. How had she gone from hating him to feeling sorry for him? They even had something in common; lack of family life. Aerith sighed heavily. Her head hurt, what with such a jumble of new thoughts running amuck inside her brain.
Deciding that a nap would be good for her, Aerith placed her cup in the sink next the other empty one, sitting upturned and lonely in the cold porcelain bowl. Now, at least, it had company. She made her way to the cabins and laid down in an empty room, mind still a mess.
