Again, me no own Final Fantasy. Ugga.
Sephiroth waited up all night, watching over Aerith. Like a good man, he checked her bandages, gave her medicine, held her hand.
He wondered if he was going crazy.
Ever since he had wounded her, something had arisen within him. Some emotion…one he barely remembered.
After two days of thinking, he realized what it might be.
It was guilt. He, the great Sephiroth, murdered, town destroyed, puppet, felt guilty for hurting Aerith. A pure, innocent woman.
Sephiroth hadn't felt guilty in years. Not since he lit Nibelheim on fire.
What is happening to me? Bahamut help me, I am FEELING something.
He sighed, setting his chin on his hand. It had been a long time since he felt anything. And now, he remembered his other emotions as well. It hurt him to think of everything he had done. And that scared him.
I am only doing it for Mother…to save the planet! One voice argued with him.
You killed people! You destroyed lives! Another voice within him argued. Suddenly, it wasn't a battle between that stupid Cloud and his friends. It was a battle within himself.
This can't be happening… He thought to himself, feeling overwhelmed. Either way, I have to get the girl to Mother.
The sun rose the next morning, and Aerith and Sephiroth were already gone from Icicle Inn. Sephiroth had Aerith on his back, wrapped in a wool blanket. She was asleep again, after taking another pill for pain. Sephiroth grumbled to himself as he trudged through the snow, following a path in his head.
God, I get stuck carrying all this weight because of a stupid mistake… He mentally kicked himself. He had been carrying Aerith all day, and there was still about an hour to get to the cave on the side of the Crater. Sephiroth had to admit, he was tired.
Why don't you just set up camp? Besides, you don't want to see Mother just yet… Sephiroth froze. Did that thought just come from him? He pondered this.
I don't…want to see Mother?
No…don't you want your own time with…her? He stopped, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Aerith's long chestnut hair. He couldn't figure out what he was feeling, but he decided to find a good spot to set up camp.
Night had fallen outside, and Sephiroth and Aerith were warm inside their tent. Both were wrapped in blankets, huddled together. A fire outside was sending little warmth their way. Aerith was sitting up by herself, eating broth fed to her by Sephiroth. Her right arm was still very numb, and the left one was of as little use.
"Thank you, Sephiroth…" She said hesitantly, worried about the outburst sure to follow.
"Yeah, sure." Sephiroth spoke quietly, out of character. He spooned some more broth into her mouth. It warmed her. Instead of responding, she smiled at him, enjoying his sudden change of heart. To her utter surprise, he gave an attempt at smiling back.
Aerith had curled up, and fallen asleep quickly after eating. She was still worn out and in pain. Sleep, for her, was a welcome release.
However, for Sephiroth, it seemed to be a curse. He had tried sleeping, but only to dream about the chestnut haired beauty. Something was happening between them, almost like they were hit by an invisible Bolt materia. In the dream…they kissed. That had woken Sephiroth up quickly.
Gah! What a nightmare! He though, scratching his head. His silver hair was snarled from sleep.
Really? Was it a nightmare? Think carefully… He was sick of this side of his head. Of course it was a nightmare! He couldn't really like her. After all, he was bringing her to Mother.
Don't bring her. He stood up, hitting the top of his head on the canvas of the tent. Don't take her to Mother? That would break every rule. He would be a failure.
I have to take her. He thought, turning back over to go back to sleep. He wouldn't let down his Mother. He loved her…didn't he? Wasn't that what 'love' is?