Chapter 13 - Memento Mori
-
A/N: YES finally it's done. ::cries with joy:: And I don't know WHY IN THE NAME OF HEAVEN AND EARTH I uploaded that incomplete version. I really really don't. I cannot believe how stupid that was. But this is the complete version, honest! Sorry about that X_X
This chapter has been pure pain to write, because for a long time I haven't known what to do with it. But finally, here it is. We're getting closer to the end. o_o
The events of this chapter happen at the same time as those of chapter 12.
-
Seth wasn't quite sure what he had expected after death, but he'd kind of figured it would be more dramatic than this.
He knew that you were supposed to go back to the Planet when your time was up, but he had never been really clear on how that worked. He'd actually been hoping for something a little more exciting - angelic chorus, maybe a ride of Valkyries, or at the very least a long tunnel with a light at the end.
There had been none of that. The cessation of life had been amazingly seamless and undramatic.
So much so, in fact, that Seth had actually failed to notice the moment of his own death.
"No," he heard Aerin whisper in a choked voice. "No..."
The change in her expression puzzled and dismayed him. All he had said was 'I want to see you smile', although admittedly it had been rather slurred... but he'd gotten the message across, hadn't he?
"Aerin?" He blinked quietly at her. "I'm not dead yet..."
She didn't seem to pay any attention to him. She had started crying and stroking his face, whispering "no" over and over again, and finally his name. Seth opened his mouth to speak again, but the words left him as Aerin screamed.
"Seth, you *bastard* - you promised to *live*!!"
And she was pounding on his chest and that was when Seth finally noticed that he wasn't breathing, when her fists brought no pain or really any sensation at all, and of all the ways Seth could have imagined to die, this was the cruellest.
Did this happen to everyone else? A last few moments of consciousness before fading away, just enough time to see your loved ones mourning? Or worse, if you died alone, time to reflect on the loneliness of your passing? Was this the only reward you got after life?
"Aerin!" He sat up, desperate to be heard, not to die alone in this horrible clarity, and he looked down and saw his brand-new ghostly form lifting itself out of his physical body. Horrified, he turned around and he saw his face, with the blank stare and faint smile of the newly dead, and he screamed and leapt away, which only made it worse. Now he could see his entire blood-soaked corpse and Aerin shaking and sobbing into his mantle, crying in Cosmo --
"Aerin, listen! Please! Can't you hear me at all?!" He reached for her, but his hands passed through her shoulders. "I'm still here! That's not me anymore, that's - that's just - Aerin, LOOK AT ME!"
It was useless, he knew it was useless, but as long as he was talking, moving, doing anything, he didn't have to concentrate on the fact that he was dead, and that he'd never again see the Nibel mountains or smell the winter wildflowers or hear his mother's voice or take Aerin's small callused hand in his, and he'd never find out what it was like to kiss, or wake up in the morning with a ring on his finger and the memory of freshly-sealed wedding vows--
Zair had dismounted from his chocobo, and knelt by Aerin's side. Seth could only sit numbly and watch as Aerin pulled herself upwards, then bowed down again and--
He could have cried for the unfairness of it, watching the healer's soft brown lips press against the still lips of his corpse (his corpse, *his*), and her small thin fingers close his eyes one last time. He would never know how that would have felt...
She threw herself, sobbing, into Zair's embrace, and Seth shook his head, dragging one ghostly hand across his face in grief.
It wasn't fair. He'd promised to live - he'd *promised* he'd make it back home. Now he was dead, and he hadn't even accomplished anything before he died... all he'd done was let everyone down...
Seth buried his head in his hands and shook with silent tears.
-
"Vincent?"
The light was starting to change, and Vincent gave no indication that he had heard the quiet voice calling his name. He just sat, as motionless as -
Seth sighed, and shook his head. Well, of course. What had he expected? Aerin couldn't hear him, Zair couldn't hear him, what had made him think Vincent would?
'Just because he's not *completely* human, I guess I thought... maybe he'd notice, just a little bit...'
"Vincent, I'm sorry." Hopeless, of course, but it felt good to talk. Soon after he had regained his composure, he had found to his horror that Masamune had fallen silent. He had called and called to the sword, begging, praying for even the slightest response - but there was nothing. That presence in the back of his mind had gone dark.
Masamune had been dormant ever since Sephiroth's death, he'd realized. It hadn't awakened until Seth had seen that portrait, and read the sword's name...
With Seth's death, it had become useless. Robbed of its only purpose - the protection of its wielder - and unable to be wielded by any other hand, the sword had allowed itself to fall dormant.
"Why did you give in to her?" Words, directed at anyone, helped to try and fill the emptiness where Masamune's harsh metallic voice should have been. "Why didn't you fight her?"
Vincent's head bowed a little more, black hair sliding over his red cloak. He looked as though he would break at a touch - if he hadn't already broken. Seth reached out on an impulse, only to watch his hand pass directly through Vincent's shoulder.
And suddenly, he was angry.
"I didn't need any help, you know," he said hotly, drawing his hand back and making a fist. "Masamune was leading me through. I didn't *need* you to come running in to save me! If you'd just stayed on the Tycoon with Faris, I'd have destroyed the Black Materia by now and it would all be fine! But *you* had to be the knight in shining armor, didn't you, and you walked right into Jenova's arms! If she hadn't gotten you then I wouldn't have had to fight you and then I wouldn't be DEAD! It's your fault I'm dead, Vincent!!"
His words left no sound, not even an echo, but they somehow managed to hang coldly in the air. Vincent put his head in his hands and his shoulders trembled, just a little bit. One hand came down to gently stroke Seth's hair. The silence dragged on, and Seth, watching the shattered man, felt lower with every passing second.
It was hard to blame Vincent. He did so himself more than anyone else ever could, and believed it. If you'd asked him why Lucrecia fell, he'd say "Because I couldn't help her." He wouldn't think to say "Because she, like a lot of people, got in over her head with Jenova and didn't realize it was bad news until it was too late to get out."
Couldn't. That was a big thing with Vincent. He would blame himself for lacking the ability to help someone, and it was ridiculous because it was like... it was like a chocobo blaming itself because it couldn't fly. It was more than ridiculous, it was tragic. He held himself personally responsible for Sephiroth's birth, Lucrecia's ruin, and if he'd known Cloud as a young man he'd probably blame himself for the swordsman's mental problems too.
And here was Seth blaming him for something *else* when (as he forced himself to realize) it was more his own stupid fault than anyone else's for running off in the first place.
"....sorry. That was cold." Seth closed his eyes. "No, you didn't kill me. I killed me. I should have stayed put. I should have gone into Bone when I had the chance. I should have destroyed the Black Materia faster. I'm sorry, Vincent."
"I'm sorry, Seth."
That was so unexpected that Seth nearly fell over.
"What? Oh, no, you didn't HEAR me, did you?!"
"I shouldn't have ever followed you... or else I should never have let you go..."
"You did hear me, didn't you?"
"I was a terrible excuse for a father."
"Vincent, if you CAN hear me, it's not your - father?"
Seth blinked. Vincent leaned forward, his hair fell around his face, one red eye was uncovered -
- and Seth gave a little scream as something came together.
"You were the man in blue!!"
The memory from the Tycoon burst across his awareness, and suddenly he was seeing Vincent across decades. The Vincent from more than forty years ago, with tangled hair and a dingy blue suit and a claw so new it hadn't had time to tarnish, was abruptly as real as the same man sitting before him...
He stared as Vincent took out Master Magic and set to work on the corpse. Sephiroth's memories flitted across his mind, helpfully telling him that the spell being used was, in fact, a cure spell of the third level. Seth took it in, and sat numbly, watching Vincent work.
'He's preparing my body for a funeral.'
The horrible, rough-edged wound had faded into little more than a thin scar tracing down his abdomen. Vincent inspected the mark, nodded approvingly, and began to take Seth's cape and bloodstained shirt off. Seth cringed in embarrassment as he watched.
'Okay, now that is just pathetic...'
He'd never really been self-conscious about his body while he was in it. Now, viewing it from outside, he wanted to die again of humiliation. He wasn't *really* that scrawny, was he? Gods, there was nothing to him at all but skin and bones with a few quasi-developed muscles in between. It made him wonder how he'd ever managed to lift Masamune, let alone think he could do battle with Jenova.
'It's because I can't change it anymore, isn't it...'
As that depressing thought sank in, Seth turned away from his now half-stripped body to see what Vincent was doing.
Cape and shirt had been laid out on the ground, and were now being methodically coated in ice. Layer after layer of frigid crystal covered the fabric, the process underscored by Vincent's low incantations. After about seven layers, the incantation abruptly changed, and Seth was startled to see fire licking across the surface of the ice, forcing it to melt rapidly.
This having been accomplished, Vincent pulled a bar of soap out of his pack.
Seth had never seen anyone wash clothes this way before. As Vincent repeated the procession of spells on the well-lathered clothes, the watching ghost was so interested he momentarily forgot he was dead.
'Why didn't he ever teach me that trick?'
Vincent finally shook out the sodden, blood-free clothes, and dried them with the most controlled fire spell Seth had ever seen. And then he turned back to put them on Seth's body, and the realization of death hit Seth over the head again.
He sighed and stood up, walking to Vincent's side and watching as the gunman clothed him again.
"You're trying to atone, aren't you?" he asked softly, crouching. "You really think it's your fault for what happened to me."
Vincent carefully scooped Seth's lifeless body into his arms and stood up. Seth rose to his feet, walking alongside the black-haired man. His eyes flickered down to his own limp body, cradled delicately in Vincent's arms, and then back up to the man's solemn face.
"Vincent... thanks."
-
Standing a little ways away from Aerin and Zair, Seth absently wondered how many other people hung around long enough to witness their own funerals.
He wanted to stay. He wanted to be by Aerin's side until the very end. He wanted to be there to see Jenova's defeat, the victory of all the Planet. He wanted to look her in the eyes in the moment of death and say; despite everything you've done to us, we still won.
He wanted to go home before he faded, see his mother, and sit under the rowan tree in their backyard and climb Mt. Nibel one last time, and then he would have been happy to move on.
But it was becoming a struggle to stay. He wanted to be with Aerin and Vincent and Zair, but the Lifestream called to him, promising peace and rest. It was getting harder to say no.
Zion had met them halfway, as Vincent bore Seth's body back to the Lifestream crack. The big chocobo hadn't made a sound, just nuzzled the body, nipped gently at the hair for old times' sake, and then accompanied Vincent back to the funeral site. It wasn't until he had watched the empty shell sink into the Lifestream that he had made any sound at all.
Aerin seemed to have quietly dammed up her tears, using them as fuel for some kind of inner strength. She had never seemed quite so small, or so frail - but something behind her voice suggested that she wasn't ready to break. The fire burned slow, but it would burn bright.
It was hard not to be proud of her, really. Even with the way things were now, Seth couldn't hold back a warm smile as she spoke.
As Vincent rode off, Aerin stood still for a short time. For a moment, Seth just watched.
This would, he realized, be the last time he ever saw her like this. Maybe they would meet in the Lifestream, but that day would be hopefully far away, and Aerin would no longer be the small young woman he saw now...
"Aerin."
Did she cock her head, as he spoke and stepped forward? Just a little bit, as if she had heard something so faint she didn't even realize she was hearing it?
Stopping in front of her, he looked at her for a long moment, trying to memorize her image. Gently, knowing she wouldn't feel it, he reached out as if to tip up her chin -
And she raised her head.
The thinnest of sounds, tiny and sibilant, escaped her - she had mouthed his name.
There was no way to be sure that she was aware of him at all. But for a moment, Seth dared to hope.
He leaned forward.
There was no true substance to the kiss - if he leaned forward any more, he would fall right through her - but she closed her eyes for just a second, and that made it seem real.
"Don't forget me," he whispered, pulling back.
Aerin's hand raised slightly, as though meaning to touch her lips, but stopped and curled into a fist. She shook her head slightly and turned away, mounting Gypsum and riding after Vincent.
Seth smiled, closed his eyes, and stepped backwards into the stream.
-
He opened his eyes some unknown time later, and found himself staring at a green sky.
He turned his head slightly. There was the hiss of sand grains shifting. A warm tide lapped at his feet.
After a moment, he realized he was lying in shadow. He tilted his head back, and saw a woman in a labcoat smiling down at him through half-moon glasses.
"Hi," he said. It somehow seemed better than "Where am I?" or "Who are you?"
"Hi," the woman returned, and extended her arm. "Need some help?"
Seth blinked and took her arm, letting himself be helped to his feet. A little bit confused, he looked around.
"Am I still dead?"
The woman laughed a little bit. "If not, you're in the wrong place."
Seth looked over his shoulder. The pale green sky faded into a green sea, which was rolling up gently on the beach.
"Um. This is..."
"The Lifestream," the woman supplied helpfully.
"Well, yeah, but..." Seth trailed off. "I didn't think it'd be like this," he finished weakly.
"For a lot of people, it isn't." She shook her head, becoming serious. "For them, it's just peace. No worries, no fears or pain... just endless rest and warmth. This place is different."
Seth looked at her, then out at the green ocean. "So what is it? An island?"
"More or less." The woman nodded. "But not really. An island would be a solid mass. This place is part of the stream. It flows."
Seth looked down. The grains of sand seemed pretty stationary to him. He knelt down and took a handful, letting it trickle through his fingers.
"It doesn't *look* like it flows."
She chuckled. "It does, but it's complicated. As Mako flows through, our will causes it to take the shape of the island, and then it moves on. And then more Mako comes through, and it happens all over again. It all happens so quickly, we can't sense the transition." She shrugged and grinned. "Basically, we're all a bunch of stubborn asses who have accepted death, but rejected the final rest, and the Lifestream just kind of humors us."
Seth stood and looked at her for a long time, and finally shrugged. "Okay. Makes sense, I guess."
She laughed softly and ruffled his hair. "I'm sorry, I'm being rude today. I haven't even introduced myself and I'm already here explaining the mechanics to you. My name is Lucrecia Catori. I used to be a biologist, but now I'm something of a guide for newcomers like you."
Seth nodded and extended his hand. "I'm Seth Drasil from Nibelheim."
Lucrecia, taking his hand, abruptly stopped. "What did you say?"
He blinked. "Seth Drasil. Why are you looking at me like that?"
She was staring at him. "I thought those eyes looked familiar... dear Planet. You're Rowan's son, aren't you?"
His mouth fell open. Staring at her, he started to say something, closed his mouth, opened it again, shut it again, and finally managed a strangled "Rowan?"
Lucrecia nodded, and her features took on a look of concern. "Are you alright? I'm sorry..."
"You know my dad?" Seth got out.
"I don't think there's *that* many other Rowan Drasils in the world. Especially not ones who come in and end up talking our ears off about four-year-old sons named Seth." She shook her head in disbelief. "I hadn't realized he'd been here *that* long..."
"He's here?" Seth's voice was a whisper.
Lucrecia nodded again. "Do you want to see him?"
Seth hadn't been sure of much recently. He'd been fuzzy on identity ever since he picked up the Masamune, and between trying to figure out Vincent and Zair and his feelings for Aerin, almost the only certain thing in his life had been that they needed to defeat Jenova. He wasn't even sure about this, but that didn't stop him from making a decision.
"Yes," he said quietly. "Yes, I do."
-
The Lifestream island was in an almost constant state of flux. Shaped entirely by the will of its inhabitants, entire landscapes could be changed in minutes by the thoughts of one person. It was considered polite, however, not to terraform (or Makoform, as the case may be) the island without discussing it with the others first; it was very disorienting to, for example, wake up and find a forest where there had been a lake. Some features of the Makoscape endured even after their shapers had departed for the stream, simply because the others had grown attached to them. So, changes were usually limited to small, personal spaces. And these could be as drastic as one wanted.
Which explained why Hojo had to stop and readjust on entering Rowan's home. What had been for weeks a rather nicely designed Wutaiian layout had changed overnight into a lush indoor garden with an assortment of plants that did not grow together anywhere on the Planet. Looking ridiculously out of place in the middle of all this was a scruffy, red-haired man working diligently at a blueprint.
"Is Wutai that boring?"
The redhead looked up suddenly and grinned. He had an earnest face, with a broad nose and eternally unshaved stubble lining his jaw.
"No, no, I liked it. I just thought some plants would be nice while I redesign it a bit. I want some real chairs in here instead of those cushions, but I need to figure out how to make that look right with all the other stuff I had. I think I'm keeping the futon, though."
"Wonderful." Hojo looked around warily, finally finding a decent place to sit among several distinctly Nibel flowers and flamboyant Midelian ferns. "I see you took some artistic liberties."
"Yeah, yeah. Heh, sorry - I guess I'm always gonna be something of a kid about this." The redhead grinned, waving his hand vaguely. "I like the way these came out, so I'm gonna add another room for them. Upstairs, I think, so it doesn't spill out onto Lucrecia's garden. Sound good?"
Hojo blinked slowly, with a faint, bemused smile on his face. "I'm not your landlord, Rowan. You can do whatever you like with your place."
Rowan grinned again and shrugged. "Sorry. Hey, how's this blueprint look? I was up all night designing this one."
"Another geothermal?" Hojo straightened his glasses and looked it over. "Hmm. Interesting. Working on the KISS principle, I see."
"Exactly. Less to break down, and easier to fix when it does. Think it looks good?"
Hojo peered at an indistinct area on the print, gave it another once-over, and nodded. "Very nice. Simple, yet effective."
"My work is done." Rowan took the blueprint back and rolled it up, waving it at Hojo. "I'm telling you, Yamaki, someday I'm gonna have the Planet reincarnate me, and I'm gonna be one of those child prodigies, only instead of composing symphonies at age four or whatever, I'm gonna be the crazy little kid who designs power plants."
"Good luck." Hojo looked around, and carefully moved further over to the side to lean against a sturdy young tree. "Speaking of plants..."
"Flower or power?" Rowan grinned impishly.
"You deserve to be smacked for that. Flower, as a matter of fact. I notice that this tree here is a rowan. Is there a reason, or are you just being narcissistic?"
Rowan leaned back against a small hill obviously constructed for exactly that purpose and stretched out. Meanwhile a narcissus sprouted near Hojo's feet, earning the red-haired engineer a sour look. "There's a reason. It's almost that time of year again, you know... in a month or two, it'll have been twelve years since I came here. And... well, when I died, my family planted a rowan tree in the back yard." His voice was soft, and for a moment his eyes were distant. He finally shrugged. "I just like to remember them this time of year."
Hojo tilted his head back, staring up into the rowan's leaves. "I'm sorry I asked."
"Ah, don't be. It's fine."
There was silence in the plant-filled room for a while. Hojo tapped his fingers on the ground, wondering what to say, and Rowan was apparently lost in thought. Both men jumped when the door was knocked on, Rowan accidentally upsetting his low drawing table and banging his ankle in the process. Cursing under his breath, he got to his feet awkwardly and limped towards the door, throwing it open.
"Fugging sonofa- oh, *hi*, Lucrecia!" Rowan immediately straightened up and grinned embarrassedly. "Wasn't expecting you over. Don't worry, I can assure you that your husband is absolutely *not* tied up in my basement and covered in whipped cream --" Hojo snorted with laughter somewhere behind him, but Lucrecia's face remained serious. Rowan kept talking without missing a beat. "-- and I can tell you're not in the mood for jokes. What happened?"
Lucrecia sighed and glanced over her shoulder. "There's someone here to see you."
A look of disbelief passed slowly over Rowan's face. "Who?"
She gave him a sad sort of smile. "Just send Yamaki out, and I'll send your visitor in. I think you two need some time alone."
Rowan nodded numbly and turned around. Hojo was already getting up, and he nodded seriously before leaving. Lucrecia exchanged a brief, meaningful glance with him, and then turned around, calling to somebody standing a ways behind her.
"Alright, come on over."
Rowan couldn't see the person, but he heard the footsteps and thought he saw flashes of green on either side of Lucrecia. With a final glance at him, the two scientists walked away in a swirl of labcoat and ponytail. Finally seeing his visitor, Rowan's mouth fell open in complete disbelief.
The white-haired teenager at the door shifted uncomfortably, and managed a smile.
"...Hi, Dad."
-
It was kind of funny, Seth thought, how he and Rowan really did have the exact same eyes.
His childhood memories of the man were fuzzy, and though they had always kept photos of him around the house, after so many years they had simply melted into the background, and Seth found himself realizing he hadn't really looked at one in a long time.
Nevertheless, at the first sight of Rowan, he recognized the man as his father immediately. Fuzzy or not, he knew that red hair and those green eyes...
Rowan opened and closed his mouth several times before finally just standing aside and motioning for Seth to enter. He did so, and Rowan shut the door behind him. Seth stopped inside, staring at the same tree Hojo had noticed earlier. He looked over his shoulder questioningly and Rowan shrugged, sitting down at his previous spot. Seth carefully moved the overturned drawing table away and sat directly across from his father.
Rowan took a deep breath, let it out, started to say something, then slumped and shook his head, sighing. Seth swallowed, wondering what exactly one was supposed to say in this situation. The uncomfortable silence dragged out until Rowan finally looked up with anguish in his eyes.
"Why, Seth?"
The disappointment in that voice hurt. Seth bowed his head, his throat feeling tighter than it should. "I didn't mean to," he said in a small voice. "I didn't even see it coming."
"What did you *do*?" Rowan's hand fisted in vibrant red hair. "Please tell me it wasn't a car accident or something stupid like that. Please? Gods, you're not even seventeen yet, are you?"
"Will be in January," Seth said numbly, then closed his eyes. "Would have been, anyway. No, it wasn't a car accident. It was kind of stupid though."
Rowan shook his head in despair. "Damn. Well, out with it. Why are you here?"
Seth looked up and grinned sheepishly. "Would you believe I was trying to save the world?"
-
Lucrecia waved a hand in front of Hojo's eyes. He was still staring at Rowan's house and the closed door that Seth had disappeared into.
"Yamaki. Wake up, Yamaki."
"He looked *just* like him!" Hojo finally said, his voice a little louder than it probably should have been. Lucrecia took him firmly by the arm and led him away.
"Yes, I *know* that. If he weren't so young and obviously human, I'd have been tempted to think he *was*. But he isn't."
"Sephiroth never came to the island, Lucrecia! And after a life like his, I don't think he'd have gone to the stream! But he died! We know he did! We were there when Holy moved!"
"Yamaki! Calm down." Lucrecia gripped his shoulders firmly. It took a lot to get her husband riled up, but when he was, it could be difficult to calm him down again. Nearly seventeen years had given Lucrecia a welcome talent in that area. "He is not our son. He looks like him, but he isn't. And even if he *was*, it's not our business. He's Rowan's son. How do you think Rowan would feel if we went and told him that his son wasn't really his?"
Hojo shut up, but glanced over his shoulder again. "I want to *know.* I want to be sure, Lucrecia. This might be my only chance to make amends. Don't you understand? I won't tell Rowan. I swear I won't."
"Please let it be, Yamaki. Don't frighten him by asking. Please just let him be Seth in peace."
He gnashed his teeth and made a tortured noise in his throat, staring at Lucrecia pleadingly. "I need to know. If he is Sephiroth... I can't even begin to make up for how I ruined his life, but I need him to at least know that I wish I hadn't. He can think whatever he wants, but I have to know...."
"Yamaki, you're *babbling.* Listen to me. He's a sixteen-year-old boy who has just *died*. Alright? If you have to bring that up with him, at least let him settle a bit. And for the Planet's sake compose yourself. It's all he needs to have you descend upon him frothing at the mouth and calling him Sephiroth."
Hojo finally sighed, the tension going out of him as he bowed his head. "Alright. Alright. Fine. But I'll ask him. You know I will."
Lucrecia smiled in fond exasperation, and nodded. "Yes, I know you will. You wouldn't be my Yamaki if you wouldn't."
-
"Save the world?" Rowan echoed hollowly.
"Save the world." Seth nodded. "Okay, it's really hard to explain. You know that whole Meteor Crisis thing? Well, there was about to be another one. I got killed trying to stop it." He ground his teeth. "Gnnuh, and I was so *close* too. Ten more seconds and no more Meteor ever."
Rowan was staring in frank disbelief at his son. "You know, I think you're going to have to tell me the whole story."
Seth gave him a look. "Dad, later. Please? I just died. I don't want to think about it right now."
Closing his eyes, Rowan smiled ruefully. "Fair enough. Later." He opened his eyes again. "But if you won't tell me about your death, tell me about your *life*. I missed too much of that."
Seth blinked, then smiled. "Okay. I can do that."
Grinning, Rowan scooted over and patted the ground next to him. Seth obligingly changed his position, leaning back against Rowan's hill.
"Where should I start?"
"Wherever you want." Rowan reached over and lightly ruffled Seth's white hair. Seth closed his eyes and smiled.
"How about I pick up where you left off?"
"That sounds great. Tell me everything."
-
Many hours later, Hojo eventually knocked on Rowan's door. The engineer's voice called him in, but quietly. Hojo opened the door with care and entered without making a sound.
Seth had, Rowan explained, just fallen asleep. They had been talking for hours about his life, and finally Seth had grown tired and gone to sleep. Hojo nodded knowingly. Technically sleep was optional on the island, but Hojo knew well the feeling of simply wanting it.
And certainly Rowan wouldn't have begrudged his son the nap. He was gazing at the small pale figure nestled against him with deep paternal love. While Hojo watched, Rowan gently brushed Seth's bangs out of his eyes.
"I missed him, Yamaki. Him and his mother. I don't like to admit it, but I think I'm glad he's here."
Hojo nodded, clamping down on the pangs of envy that Rowan could have this closeness. "It can get lonely here, when the ones you love are still alive."
Rowan sighed and settled himself more comfortably against his hill. "Yeah. But at the same time, I wonder what kind of future he might have had." He shook his head slightly. "I guess there's probably worse ways to go than his way, but I always kind of figured that the next Drasil I'd see down here would be my brother."
"You know Reno better than that, Rowan. He could have survived Meteor. The Lifestream isn't going to take *him* until he's damn well ready for it."
"Yeah, yeah." Rowan smirked. "Watch, when he comes down here, he'll be a hundred-and-fifty or something. Always thought it was sick that the Turk survives and the mild-mannered engineer dies."
"It is. But that's how it goes."
Rowan looked back down at Seth, frowning. "He's not even seventeen, Yamaki. He's such a great kid. He didn't deserve to die like this. Not at his age."
"A lot of people don't."
Rowan sighed and covered his face with the hand that wasn't currently wrapped around his son. "Sorry, Yamaki. I don't know what to feel right now. It just isn't fair..."
"No, it isn't." Hojo placed a comforting hand on Rowan's shoulder, then stood up. "Follow your son's example and get some sleep, Rowan. I think you need it."
Rowan nodded soundlessly. He hadn't moved when Hojo turned out his light and closed the door.
-
Day broke on the world above. Somewhere, a young woman was venturing alone into the heart of a dead city, in search of the most important thing that had been left behind. One dark-skinned arm reached out for a glitter of gold. Her fingers closed around it, and in that moment the weapon awoke, and welcomed her back.
In that moment, Seth found himself jolted awake.
Rowan had, at some point, fallen asleep with his arms wrapped protectively around his son. Blinking, Seth looked around. Nothing seemed amiss, and Rowan's snoring couldn't possibly have been loud enough to wake him.
He tried to settle back down, but he couldn't get back to sleep. He stayed there for a long time, eyes wide, wondering.
And as the sun rose in the world of the living, Aerin wondered too.
-
A/N: YES finally it's done. ::cries with joy:: And I don't know WHY IN THE NAME OF HEAVEN AND EARTH I uploaded that incomplete version. I really really don't. I cannot believe how stupid that was. But this is the complete version, honest! Sorry about that X_X
This chapter has been pure pain to write, because for a long time I haven't known what to do with it. But finally, here it is. We're getting closer to the end. o_o
The events of this chapter happen at the same time as those of chapter 12.
-
Seth wasn't quite sure what he had expected after death, but he'd kind of figured it would be more dramatic than this.
He knew that you were supposed to go back to the Planet when your time was up, but he had never been really clear on how that worked. He'd actually been hoping for something a little more exciting - angelic chorus, maybe a ride of Valkyries, or at the very least a long tunnel with a light at the end.
There had been none of that. The cessation of life had been amazingly seamless and undramatic.
So much so, in fact, that Seth had actually failed to notice the moment of his own death.
"No," he heard Aerin whisper in a choked voice. "No..."
The change in her expression puzzled and dismayed him. All he had said was 'I want to see you smile', although admittedly it had been rather slurred... but he'd gotten the message across, hadn't he?
"Aerin?" He blinked quietly at her. "I'm not dead yet..."
She didn't seem to pay any attention to him. She had started crying and stroking his face, whispering "no" over and over again, and finally his name. Seth opened his mouth to speak again, but the words left him as Aerin screamed.
"Seth, you *bastard* - you promised to *live*!!"
And she was pounding on his chest and that was when Seth finally noticed that he wasn't breathing, when her fists brought no pain or really any sensation at all, and of all the ways Seth could have imagined to die, this was the cruellest.
Did this happen to everyone else? A last few moments of consciousness before fading away, just enough time to see your loved ones mourning? Or worse, if you died alone, time to reflect on the loneliness of your passing? Was this the only reward you got after life?
"Aerin!" He sat up, desperate to be heard, not to die alone in this horrible clarity, and he looked down and saw his brand-new ghostly form lifting itself out of his physical body. Horrified, he turned around and he saw his face, with the blank stare and faint smile of the newly dead, and he screamed and leapt away, which only made it worse. Now he could see his entire blood-soaked corpse and Aerin shaking and sobbing into his mantle, crying in Cosmo --
"Aerin, listen! Please! Can't you hear me at all?!" He reached for her, but his hands passed through her shoulders. "I'm still here! That's not me anymore, that's - that's just - Aerin, LOOK AT ME!"
It was useless, he knew it was useless, but as long as he was talking, moving, doing anything, he didn't have to concentrate on the fact that he was dead, and that he'd never again see the Nibel mountains or smell the winter wildflowers or hear his mother's voice or take Aerin's small callused hand in his, and he'd never find out what it was like to kiss, or wake up in the morning with a ring on his finger and the memory of freshly-sealed wedding vows--
Zair had dismounted from his chocobo, and knelt by Aerin's side. Seth could only sit numbly and watch as Aerin pulled herself upwards, then bowed down again and--
He could have cried for the unfairness of it, watching the healer's soft brown lips press against the still lips of his corpse (his corpse, *his*), and her small thin fingers close his eyes one last time. He would never know how that would have felt...
She threw herself, sobbing, into Zair's embrace, and Seth shook his head, dragging one ghostly hand across his face in grief.
It wasn't fair. He'd promised to live - he'd *promised* he'd make it back home. Now he was dead, and he hadn't even accomplished anything before he died... all he'd done was let everyone down...
Seth buried his head in his hands and shook with silent tears.
-
"Vincent?"
The light was starting to change, and Vincent gave no indication that he had heard the quiet voice calling his name. He just sat, as motionless as -
Seth sighed, and shook his head. Well, of course. What had he expected? Aerin couldn't hear him, Zair couldn't hear him, what had made him think Vincent would?
'Just because he's not *completely* human, I guess I thought... maybe he'd notice, just a little bit...'
"Vincent, I'm sorry." Hopeless, of course, but it felt good to talk. Soon after he had regained his composure, he had found to his horror that Masamune had fallen silent. He had called and called to the sword, begging, praying for even the slightest response - but there was nothing. That presence in the back of his mind had gone dark.
Masamune had been dormant ever since Sephiroth's death, he'd realized. It hadn't awakened until Seth had seen that portrait, and read the sword's name...
With Seth's death, it had become useless. Robbed of its only purpose - the protection of its wielder - and unable to be wielded by any other hand, the sword had allowed itself to fall dormant.
"Why did you give in to her?" Words, directed at anyone, helped to try and fill the emptiness where Masamune's harsh metallic voice should have been. "Why didn't you fight her?"
Vincent's head bowed a little more, black hair sliding over his red cloak. He looked as though he would break at a touch - if he hadn't already broken. Seth reached out on an impulse, only to watch his hand pass directly through Vincent's shoulder.
And suddenly, he was angry.
"I didn't need any help, you know," he said hotly, drawing his hand back and making a fist. "Masamune was leading me through. I didn't *need* you to come running in to save me! If you'd just stayed on the Tycoon with Faris, I'd have destroyed the Black Materia by now and it would all be fine! But *you* had to be the knight in shining armor, didn't you, and you walked right into Jenova's arms! If she hadn't gotten you then I wouldn't have had to fight you and then I wouldn't be DEAD! It's your fault I'm dead, Vincent!!"
His words left no sound, not even an echo, but they somehow managed to hang coldly in the air. Vincent put his head in his hands and his shoulders trembled, just a little bit. One hand came down to gently stroke Seth's hair. The silence dragged on, and Seth, watching the shattered man, felt lower with every passing second.
It was hard to blame Vincent. He did so himself more than anyone else ever could, and believed it. If you'd asked him why Lucrecia fell, he'd say "Because I couldn't help her." He wouldn't think to say "Because she, like a lot of people, got in over her head with Jenova and didn't realize it was bad news until it was too late to get out."
Couldn't. That was a big thing with Vincent. He would blame himself for lacking the ability to help someone, and it was ridiculous because it was like... it was like a chocobo blaming itself because it couldn't fly. It was more than ridiculous, it was tragic. He held himself personally responsible for Sephiroth's birth, Lucrecia's ruin, and if he'd known Cloud as a young man he'd probably blame himself for the swordsman's mental problems too.
And here was Seth blaming him for something *else* when (as he forced himself to realize) it was more his own stupid fault than anyone else's for running off in the first place.
"....sorry. That was cold." Seth closed his eyes. "No, you didn't kill me. I killed me. I should have stayed put. I should have gone into Bone when I had the chance. I should have destroyed the Black Materia faster. I'm sorry, Vincent."
"I'm sorry, Seth."
That was so unexpected that Seth nearly fell over.
"What? Oh, no, you didn't HEAR me, did you?!"
"I shouldn't have ever followed you... or else I should never have let you go..."
"You did hear me, didn't you?"
"I was a terrible excuse for a father."
"Vincent, if you CAN hear me, it's not your - father?"
Seth blinked. Vincent leaned forward, his hair fell around his face, one red eye was uncovered -
- and Seth gave a little scream as something came together.
"You were the man in blue!!"
The memory from the Tycoon burst across his awareness, and suddenly he was seeing Vincent across decades. The Vincent from more than forty years ago, with tangled hair and a dingy blue suit and a claw so new it hadn't had time to tarnish, was abruptly as real as the same man sitting before him...
He stared as Vincent took out Master Magic and set to work on the corpse. Sephiroth's memories flitted across his mind, helpfully telling him that the spell being used was, in fact, a cure spell of the third level. Seth took it in, and sat numbly, watching Vincent work.
'He's preparing my body for a funeral.'
The horrible, rough-edged wound had faded into little more than a thin scar tracing down his abdomen. Vincent inspected the mark, nodded approvingly, and began to take Seth's cape and bloodstained shirt off. Seth cringed in embarrassment as he watched.
'Okay, now that is just pathetic...'
He'd never really been self-conscious about his body while he was in it. Now, viewing it from outside, he wanted to die again of humiliation. He wasn't *really* that scrawny, was he? Gods, there was nothing to him at all but skin and bones with a few quasi-developed muscles in between. It made him wonder how he'd ever managed to lift Masamune, let alone think he could do battle with Jenova.
'It's because I can't change it anymore, isn't it...'
As that depressing thought sank in, Seth turned away from his now half-stripped body to see what Vincent was doing.
Cape and shirt had been laid out on the ground, and were now being methodically coated in ice. Layer after layer of frigid crystal covered the fabric, the process underscored by Vincent's low incantations. After about seven layers, the incantation abruptly changed, and Seth was startled to see fire licking across the surface of the ice, forcing it to melt rapidly.
This having been accomplished, Vincent pulled a bar of soap out of his pack.
Seth had never seen anyone wash clothes this way before. As Vincent repeated the procession of spells on the well-lathered clothes, the watching ghost was so interested he momentarily forgot he was dead.
'Why didn't he ever teach me that trick?'
Vincent finally shook out the sodden, blood-free clothes, and dried them with the most controlled fire spell Seth had ever seen. And then he turned back to put them on Seth's body, and the realization of death hit Seth over the head again.
He sighed and stood up, walking to Vincent's side and watching as the gunman clothed him again.
"You're trying to atone, aren't you?" he asked softly, crouching. "You really think it's your fault for what happened to me."
Vincent carefully scooped Seth's lifeless body into his arms and stood up. Seth rose to his feet, walking alongside the black-haired man. His eyes flickered down to his own limp body, cradled delicately in Vincent's arms, and then back up to the man's solemn face.
"Vincent... thanks."
-
Standing a little ways away from Aerin and Zair, Seth absently wondered how many other people hung around long enough to witness their own funerals.
He wanted to stay. He wanted to be by Aerin's side until the very end. He wanted to be there to see Jenova's defeat, the victory of all the Planet. He wanted to look her in the eyes in the moment of death and say; despite everything you've done to us, we still won.
He wanted to go home before he faded, see his mother, and sit under the rowan tree in their backyard and climb Mt. Nibel one last time, and then he would have been happy to move on.
But it was becoming a struggle to stay. He wanted to be with Aerin and Vincent and Zair, but the Lifestream called to him, promising peace and rest. It was getting harder to say no.
Zion had met them halfway, as Vincent bore Seth's body back to the Lifestream crack. The big chocobo hadn't made a sound, just nuzzled the body, nipped gently at the hair for old times' sake, and then accompanied Vincent back to the funeral site. It wasn't until he had watched the empty shell sink into the Lifestream that he had made any sound at all.
Aerin seemed to have quietly dammed up her tears, using them as fuel for some kind of inner strength. She had never seemed quite so small, or so frail - but something behind her voice suggested that she wasn't ready to break. The fire burned slow, but it would burn bright.
It was hard not to be proud of her, really. Even with the way things were now, Seth couldn't hold back a warm smile as she spoke.
As Vincent rode off, Aerin stood still for a short time. For a moment, Seth just watched.
This would, he realized, be the last time he ever saw her like this. Maybe they would meet in the Lifestream, but that day would be hopefully far away, and Aerin would no longer be the small young woman he saw now...
"Aerin."
Did she cock her head, as he spoke and stepped forward? Just a little bit, as if she had heard something so faint she didn't even realize she was hearing it?
Stopping in front of her, he looked at her for a long moment, trying to memorize her image. Gently, knowing she wouldn't feel it, he reached out as if to tip up her chin -
And she raised her head.
The thinnest of sounds, tiny and sibilant, escaped her - she had mouthed his name.
There was no way to be sure that she was aware of him at all. But for a moment, Seth dared to hope.
He leaned forward.
There was no true substance to the kiss - if he leaned forward any more, he would fall right through her - but she closed her eyes for just a second, and that made it seem real.
"Don't forget me," he whispered, pulling back.
Aerin's hand raised slightly, as though meaning to touch her lips, but stopped and curled into a fist. She shook her head slightly and turned away, mounting Gypsum and riding after Vincent.
Seth smiled, closed his eyes, and stepped backwards into the stream.
-
He opened his eyes some unknown time later, and found himself staring at a green sky.
He turned his head slightly. There was the hiss of sand grains shifting. A warm tide lapped at his feet.
After a moment, he realized he was lying in shadow. He tilted his head back, and saw a woman in a labcoat smiling down at him through half-moon glasses.
"Hi," he said. It somehow seemed better than "Where am I?" or "Who are you?"
"Hi," the woman returned, and extended her arm. "Need some help?"
Seth blinked and took her arm, letting himself be helped to his feet. A little bit confused, he looked around.
"Am I still dead?"
The woman laughed a little bit. "If not, you're in the wrong place."
Seth looked over his shoulder. The pale green sky faded into a green sea, which was rolling up gently on the beach.
"Um. This is..."
"The Lifestream," the woman supplied helpfully.
"Well, yeah, but..." Seth trailed off. "I didn't think it'd be like this," he finished weakly.
"For a lot of people, it isn't." She shook her head, becoming serious. "For them, it's just peace. No worries, no fears or pain... just endless rest and warmth. This place is different."
Seth looked at her, then out at the green ocean. "So what is it? An island?"
"More or less." The woman nodded. "But not really. An island would be a solid mass. This place is part of the stream. It flows."
Seth looked down. The grains of sand seemed pretty stationary to him. He knelt down and took a handful, letting it trickle through his fingers.
"It doesn't *look* like it flows."
She chuckled. "It does, but it's complicated. As Mako flows through, our will causes it to take the shape of the island, and then it moves on. And then more Mako comes through, and it happens all over again. It all happens so quickly, we can't sense the transition." She shrugged and grinned. "Basically, we're all a bunch of stubborn asses who have accepted death, but rejected the final rest, and the Lifestream just kind of humors us."
Seth stood and looked at her for a long time, and finally shrugged. "Okay. Makes sense, I guess."
She laughed softly and ruffled his hair. "I'm sorry, I'm being rude today. I haven't even introduced myself and I'm already here explaining the mechanics to you. My name is Lucrecia Catori. I used to be a biologist, but now I'm something of a guide for newcomers like you."
Seth nodded and extended his hand. "I'm Seth Drasil from Nibelheim."
Lucrecia, taking his hand, abruptly stopped. "What did you say?"
He blinked. "Seth Drasil. Why are you looking at me like that?"
She was staring at him. "I thought those eyes looked familiar... dear Planet. You're Rowan's son, aren't you?"
His mouth fell open. Staring at her, he started to say something, closed his mouth, opened it again, shut it again, and finally managed a strangled "Rowan?"
Lucrecia nodded, and her features took on a look of concern. "Are you alright? I'm sorry..."
"You know my dad?" Seth got out.
"I don't think there's *that* many other Rowan Drasils in the world. Especially not ones who come in and end up talking our ears off about four-year-old sons named Seth." She shook her head in disbelief. "I hadn't realized he'd been here *that* long..."
"He's here?" Seth's voice was a whisper.
Lucrecia nodded again. "Do you want to see him?"
Seth hadn't been sure of much recently. He'd been fuzzy on identity ever since he picked up the Masamune, and between trying to figure out Vincent and Zair and his feelings for Aerin, almost the only certain thing in his life had been that they needed to defeat Jenova. He wasn't even sure about this, but that didn't stop him from making a decision.
"Yes," he said quietly. "Yes, I do."
-
The Lifestream island was in an almost constant state of flux. Shaped entirely by the will of its inhabitants, entire landscapes could be changed in minutes by the thoughts of one person. It was considered polite, however, not to terraform (or Makoform, as the case may be) the island without discussing it with the others first; it was very disorienting to, for example, wake up and find a forest where there had been a lake. Some features of the Makoscape endured even after their shapers had departed for the stream, simply because the others had grown attached to them. So, changes were usually limited to small, personal spaces. And these could be as drastic as one wanted.
Which explained why Hojo had to stop and readjust on entering Rowan's home. What had been for weeks a rather nicely designed Wutaiian layout had changed overnight into a lush indoor garden with an assortment of plants that did not grow together anywhere on the Planet. Looking ridiculously out of place in the middle of all this was a scruffy, red-haired man working diligently at a blueprint.
"Is Wutai that boring?"
The redhead looked up suddenly and grinned. He had an earnest face, with a broad nose and eternally unshaved stubble lining his jaw.
"No, no, I liked it. I just thought some plants would be nice while I redesign it a bit. I want some real chairs in here instead of those cushions, but I need to figure out how to make that look right with all the other stuff I had. I think I'm keeping the futon, though."
"Wonderful." Hojo looked around warily, finally finding a decent place to sit among several distinctly Nibel flowers and flamboyant Midelian ferns. "I see you took some artistic liberties."
"Yeah, yeah. Heh, sorry - I guess I'm always gonna be something of a kid about this." The redhead grinned, waving his hand vaguely. "I like the way these came out, so I'm gonna add another room for them. Upstairs, I think, so it doesn't spill out onto Lucrecia's garden. Sound good?"
Hojo blinked slowly, with a faint, bemused smile on his face. "I'm not your landlord, Rowan. You can do whatever you like with your place."
Rowan grinned again and shrugged. "Sorry. Hey, how's this blueprint look? I was up all night designing this one."
"Another geothermal?" Hojo straightened his glasses and looked it over. "Hmm. Interesting. Working on the KISS principle, I see."
"Exactly. Less to break down, and easier to fix when it does. Think it looks good?"
Hojo peered at an indistinct area on the print, gave it another once-over, and nodded. "Very nice. Simple, yet effective."
"My work is done." Rowan took the blueprint back and rolled it up, waving it at Hojo. "I'm telling you, Yamaki, someday I'm gonna have the Planet reincarnate me, and I'm gonna be one of those child prodigies, only instead of composing symphonies at age four or whatever, I'm gonna be the crazy little kid who designs power plants."
"Good luck." Hojo looked around, and carefully moved further over to the side to lean against a sturdy young tree. "Speaking of plants..."
"Flower or power?" Rowan grinned impishly.
"You deserve to be smacked for that. Flower, as a matter of fact. I notice that this tree here is a rowan. Is there a reason, or are you just being narcissistic?"
Rowan leaned back against a small hill obviously constructed for exactly that purpose and stretched out. Meanwhile a narcissus sprouted near Hojo's feet, earning the red-haired engineer a sour look. "There's a reason. It's almost that time of year again, you know... in a month or two, it'll have been twelve years since I came here. And... well, when I died, my family planted a rowan tree in the back yard." His voice was soft, and for a moment his eyes were distant. He finally shrugged. "I just like to remember them this time of year."
Hojo tilted his head back, staring up into the rowan's leaves. "I'm sorry I asked."
"Ah, don't be. It's fine."
There was silence in the plant-filled room for a while. Hojo tapped his fingers on the ground, wondering what to say, and Rowan was apparently lost in thought. Both men jumped when the door was knocked on, Rowan accidentally upsetting his low drawing table and banging his ankle in the process. Cursing under his breath, he got to his feet awkwardly and limped towards the door, throwing it open.
"Fugging sonofa- oh, *hi*, Lucrecia!" Rowan immediately straightened up and grinned embarrassedly. "Wasn't expecting you over. Don't worry, I can assure you that your husband is absolutely *not* tied up in my basement and covered in whipped cream --" Hojo snorted with laughter somewhere behind him, but Lucrecia's face remained serious. Rowan kept talking without missing a beat. "-- and I can tell you're not in the mood for jokes. What happened?"
Lucrecia sighed and glanced over her shoulder. "There's someone here to see you."
A look of disbelief passed slowly over Rowan's face. "Who?"
She gave him a sad sort of smile. "Just send Yamaki out, and I'll send your visitor in. I think you two need some time alone."
Rowan nodded numbly and turned around. Hojo was already getting up, and he nodded seriously before leaving. Lucrecia exchanged a brief, meaningful glance with him, and then turned around, calling to somebody standing a ways behind her.
"Alright, come on over."
Rowan couldn't see the person, but he heard the footsteps and thought he saw flashes of green on either side of Lucrecia. With a final glance at him, the two scientists walked away in a swirl of labcoat and ponytail. Finally seeing his visitor, Rowan's mouth fell open in complete disbelief.
The white-haired teenager at the door shifted uncomfortably, and managed a smile.
"...Hi, Dad."
-
It was kind of funny, Seth thought, how he and Rowan really did have the exact same eyes.
His childhood memories of the man were fuzzy, and though they had always kept photos of him around the house, after so many years they had simply melted into the background, and Seth found himself realizing he hadn't really looked at one in a long time.
Nevertheless, at the first sight of Rowan, he recognized the man as his father immediately. Fuzzy or not, he knew that red hair and those green eyes...
Rowan opened and closed his mouth several times before finally just standing aside and motioning for Seth to enter. He did so, and Rowan shut the door behind him. Seth stopped inside, staring at the same tree Hojo had noticed earlier. He looked over his shoulder questioningly and Rowan shrugged, sitting down at his previous spot. Seth carefully moved the overturned drawing table away and sat directly across from his father.
Rowan took a deep breath, let it out, started to say something, then slumped and shook his head, sighing. Seth swallowed, wondering what exactly one was supposed to say in this situation. The uncomfortable silence dragged out until Rowan finally looked up with anguish in his eyes.
"Why, Seth?"
The disappointment in that voice hurt. Seth bowed his head, his throat feeling tighter than it should. "I didn't mean to," he said in a small voice. "I didn't even see it coming."
"What did you *do*?" Rowan's hand fisted in vibrant red hair. "Please tell me it wasn't a car accident or something stupid like that. Please? Gods, you're not even seventeen yet, are you?"
"Will be in January," Seth said numbly, then closed his eyes. "Would have been, anyway. No, it wasn't a car accident. It was kind of stupid though."
Rowan shook his head in despair. "Damn. Well, out with it. Why are you here?"
Seth looked up and grinned sheepishly. "Would you believe I was trying to save the world?"
-
Lucrecia waved a hand in front of Hojo's eyes. He was still staring at Rowan's house and the closed door that Seth had disappeared into.
"Yamaki. Wake up, Yamaki."
"He looked *just* like him!" Hojo finally said, his voice a little louder than it probably should have been. Lucrecia took him firmly by the arm and led him away.
"Yes, I *know* that. If he weren't so young and obviously human, I'd have been tempted to think he *was*. But he isn't."
"Sephiroth never came to the island, Lucrecia! And after a life like his, I don't think he'd have gone to the stream! But he died! We know he did! We were there when Holy moved!"
"Yamaki! Calm down." Lucrecia gripped his shoulders firmly. It took a lot to get her husband riled up, but when he was, it could be difficult to calm him down again. Nearly seventeen years had given Lucrecia a welcome talent in that area. "He is not our son. He looks like him, but he isn't. And even if he *was*, it's not our business. He's Rowan's son. How do you think Rowan would feel if we went and told him that his son wasn't really his?"
Hojo shut up, but glanced over his shoulder again. "I want to *know.* I want to be sure, Lucrecia. This might be my only chance to make amends. Don't you understand? I won't tell Rowan. I swear I won't."
"Please let it be, Yamaki. Don't frighten him by asking. Please just let him be Seth in peace."
He gnashed his teeth and made a tortured noise in his throat, staring at Lucrecia pleadingly. "I need to know. If he is Sephiroth... I can't even begin to make up for how I ruined his life, but I need him to at least know that I wish I hadn't. He can think whatever he wants, but I have to know...."
"Yamaki, you're *babbling.* Listen to me. He's a sixteen-year-old boy who has just *died*. Alright? If you have to bring that up with him, at least let him settle a bit. And for the Planet's sake compose yourself. It's all he needs to have you descend upon him frothing at the mouth and calling him Sephiroth."
Hojo finally sighed, the tension going out of him as he bowed his head. "Alright. Alright. Fine. But I'll ask him. You know I will."
Lucrecia smiled in fond exasperation, and nodded. "Yes, I know you will. You wouldn't be my Yamaki if you wouldn't."
-
"Save the world?" Rowan echoed hollowly.
"Save the world." Seth nodded. "Okay, it's really hard to explain. You know that whole Meteor Crisis thing? Well, there was about to be another one. I got killed trying to stop it." He ground his teeth. "Gnnuh, and I was so *close* too. Ten more seconds and no more Meteor ever."
Rowan was staring in frank disbelief at his son. "You know, I think you're going to have to tell me the whole story."
Seth gave him a look. "Dad, later. Please? I just died. I don't want to think about it right now."
Closing his eyes, Rowan smiled ruefully. "Fair enough. Later." He opened his eyes again. "But if you won't tell me about your death, tell me about your *life*. I missed too much of that."
Seth blinked, then smiled. "Okay. I can do that."
Grinning, Rowan scooted over and patted the ground next to him. Seth obligingly changed his position, leaning back against Rowan's hill.
"Where should I start?"
"Wherever you want." Rowan reached over and lightly ruffled Seth's white hair. Seth closed his eyes and smiled.
"How about I pick up where you left off?"
"That sounds great. Tell me everything."
-
Many hours later, Hojo eventually knocked on Rowan's door. The engineer's voice called him in, but quietly. Hojo opened the door with care and entered without making a sound.
Seth had, Rowan explained, just fallen asleep. They had been talking for hours about his life, and finally Seth had grown tired and gone to sleep. Hojo nodded knowingly. Technically sleep was optional on the island, but Hojo knew well the feeling of simply wanting it.
And certainly Rowan wouldn't have begrudged his son the nap. He was gazing at the small pale figure nestled against him with deep paternal love. While Hojo watched, Rowan gently brushed Seth's bangs out of his eyes.
"I missed him, Yamaki. Him and his mother. I don't like to admit it, but I think I'm glad he's here."
Hojo nodded, clamping down on the pangs of envy that Rowan could have this closeness. "It can get lonely here, when the ones you love are still alive."
Rowan sighed and settled himself more comfortably against his hill. "Yeah. But at the same time, I wonder what kind of future he might have had." He shook his head slightly. "I guess there's probably worse ways to go than his way, but I always kind of figured that the next Drasil I'd see down here would be my brother."
"You know Reno better than that, Rowan. He could have survived Meteor. The Lifestream isn't going to take *him* until he's damn well ready for it."
"Yeah, yeah." Rowan smirked. "Watch, when he comes down here, he'll be a hundred-and-fifty or something. Always thought it was sick that the Turk survives and the mild-mannered engineer dies."
"It is. But that's how it goes."
Rowan looked back down at Seth, frowning. "He's not even seventeen, Yamaki. He's such a great kid. He didn't deserve to die like this. Not at his age."
"A lot of people don't."
Rowan sighed and covered his face with the hand that wasn't currently wrapped around his son. "Sorry, Yamaki. I don't know what to feel right now. It just isn't fair..."
"No, it isn't." Hojo placed a comforting hand on Rowan's shoulder, then stood up. "Follow your son's example and get some sleep, Rowan. I think you need it."
Rowan nodded soundlessly. He hadn't moved when Hojo turned out his light and closed the door.
-
Day broke on the world above. Somewhere, a young woman was venturing alone into the heart of a dead city, in search of the most important thing that had been left behind. One dark-skinned arm reached out for a glitter of gold. Her fingers closed around it, and in that moment the weapon awoke, and welcomed her back.
In that moment, Seth found himself jolted awake.
Rowan had, at some point, fallen asleep with his arms wrapped protectively around his son. Blinking, Seth looked around. Nothing seemed amiss, and Rowan's snoring couldn't possibly have been loud enough to wake him.
He tried to settle back down, but he couldn't get back to sleep. He stayed there for a long time, eyes wide, wondering.
And as the sun rose in the world of the living, Aerin wondered too.