You do something to me that I can't explain. So I would I be out of line if I said I miss you?
I Miss You - Incubus-----
Something was wrong.The realization came to him, straying out of the boundaries of his instinct. So sudden and forcible was the feeling that he halted in his tracks. Wind, stirred by his impossibly swift movements, swirled past him, whipping tendrils of his pale hair with it. It was inexplicable, but he felt almost ... apprehensive. He turned on the spot to gaze back at the copse of trees, now nothing but a dark spot on the horizon, where he had left the girl. He knew with firm certainty that she could not escape, so what was it that bothered him so about leaving her there? There was a chance, minuscule at best, that something or someone would happen upon her; bound as he had left her she was quite effectively helpless. A scowl creased his features as he contemplated the nature of his doubt and concern. The girl's effect over him, damn her, was more extensive than he had thought.
"So be it." He muttered darkly. He would return for her and take her with him into the Golden Saucer. It would slow them of course, but he would not have to backtrack in order to retrieve her once the Keystone was within his possession. To ensure her behaviour in the bawdy crowds that frequented the Saucer he would keep her tied in a discreet manner, and keep her close to him. With an impatient sigh he set out the way he had came, running again. He could not shake the sense of urgency that rode him and pushed him faster. The small cluster of trees grew larger and larger until he could make them out with definition. As he swept into the clearing where he and the girl had made camp the previous night he abruptly halted at the sight that greeted him. Eyes widened in disbelief, he stared uncomprehendingly at the girl who with arms outstretched above her hung mere millimetres from the ground. It took him only seconds to realize what had happened, and with that realization came a rush of something icy, something that gripped him from the inside out.Fear.
Soft, grating rasping sounds filled the air. The girl's face was deathly white, her lips tinged blue. Her eyes were clenched shut, and lines of pain were cut in harsh relief into the paleness of her face. The masamune was suddenly within his grasp, and in a maddening rush he moved forward; the shining blade swept up then down in a swift arc, severing the branch from the tree. The girl dropped heavily to the ground and did not move. Dropping his sword he was by her side in an instant, lifting her and turning her so that she lay on her back. He worked the noose knot with his fingers in an effort to loosen it; when it fell away he pulled it free of her. The girl gave an audible, painful gasp as her airway reopened; at the sound Sephiroth felt weak with relief. His arms went around her and pulled her into his lap; cradling, protective. Her eyes remained closed, but she was breathing in quick rasps. As he stared unseeing at her pallid, pain creased features he attempted to comprehend that mass of chaotic emotions now encompassing him. The foremost of these was disbelief, disbelief that she had attempted to take her own life. It was suddenly clear to him now, the reason for her change in behaviour. She had planned this; planned her own death and had accepted it as best she could. Rather than continue to hope, rather than attempt escape again on the small chance that she may actually succeed, she had chosen death. It was ludicrous, it was ridiculous.It was brave.
He began to understand then, part of why Mother was concerned with this girl. She possessed raw courage; a bravery like nothing he had known of. He hadn't seen it before, hadn't let himself see it, but in light of what she had just done he could not ignore it any longer. Had she died, she would have both been free of the agonizing torture that would await her with Mother as well as significantly damaged the procedures Mother and Son had devised to liberate the Planet.But she hadn't died.
Her breathing had slowed somewhat, and some of the lines of pain had faded from her face. She was regaining color but was still unconscious. Sephiroth raised a hand to her brow and was astonished to find it was trembling.What was happening to him?
It was instantaneous; he couldn't fight it anymore, and the emotions he had walled up and constantly held down broke free and washed over him. It was overwhelming, and like a drowning man he gasped for air. What was this? What was this that caused him to want to scream, to cry? What were these thoughts, so haunting and agonized, that echoed throughout his mind with deafening power? He couldn't understand, didn't want to understand, but every second it was revealed further in brutal, heart wrenching agony. He was a man, and as powerful and omnipotent as he had become he could not escape that fact. He was born a man, a mortal, albeit altered somehow. And though he had tried so very hard, he could no longer ignore the truth.I am human.
Not human in the physical sense. His body had evolved and surpassed the parameters set by mortal flesh. In terms of sheer power he was beyond them. But the feelings which coursed through him now; they were the proof. Proof that in the most spiritual sense of the word, he was human.The raging tide of emotions receded at the realization, leaving him breathless and dazed. Something cold and wet traced its way down his cheek and fell, glittering, to land on his arm. He shook his head, denying, but he knew it for what it was. A tear. Suddenly there were more, raining down as deep inside him something shattered. Sorrow, he realized as he fought the tightness in his throat and the heaviness in his chest. This was sorrow, and it was something that he could never recall experiencing. Fighting back the tears he stared hard at the girl, knowing that it was she that had wrought this catastrophic change within him; it was this girl that had brought him to his knees. The attraction he had felt had grown despite all his efforts to banish it, to exorcise it. It grown far beyond mere attraction, to the point where the thought of her death had him panicked and trembling.
He raised one hand, the other still clutching the girl, and tugged his leather glove off with his teeth. Tossing it aside he let his fingers wander the line of her cheek, and trace the feathery softness of her lashes. His fingers, seemingly of their own accord, combed themselves through her hair, enjoying the texture. Time halted as his eyes and hand explored every facet of her face, memorizing, analysing. And when he'd done it all, he lifted her and held her tighter, holding her as a lifeline in this new and terrifying reality he found himself in."Aerith," he breathed.