Final fantasy VII Fan Fiction

Maybe

By Kraven Ergeist

What happened in the past can't be changed. Life is a series of chances taken and chances missed. If something that could have happened doesn't happen, does it mean it was never meant to happen? Maybe the difference between one path and the next has no meaning at all.

Maybe the decisions we make are all it takes to make one reality into something else entirely.

For one girl living in the Icicle Inn, decisions like that weren't something she was concerned with. Decisions like that were made by older people. All she had to concern herself with was making it home before dark. How was she supposed to know the actions she was making today would affect her life and the lives of so many yet to come?

Maybe it was meant to happen.

Her mom called her down to help with the dishes. Her parents ran one of the many inns up north, and she was used to many visitor's coming in and warming themselves by the fire. Her mother was in charge of preparing meals, and her father was in charge of stoking the fire, taking care of business and keeping the place in shape.

She hurried downstairs, the snow outside casting a bright light through all the windows she passed along the way. She got right to work, helping her mother work. She knew that the faster they worked, the more customer's they could take, and the more customer's they took, the more food got put on the table. So she worked as hard as she could.

She didn't even pay attention to the dark haired man that was sitting at the table warming himself over a cup of herbal tea, or the silvered haired boy sitting quietly by his side.

"So, where are you bound, traveler?" her father asked, serving the two strangers with plates of steaming food.

The bespectacled man nodded his thanks. "Further north. I have some…things to take care of up at the crater."

"You're traveling up north? That's going to be a hazardous trip, are you sure you're prepared for it? The Great Glacier isn't very forgiving."

The long, dark haired man nodded, eyes closed in contemplation. "I have…taken the necessary precautions…"

The girl's mother stepped out of the kitchen, eying the boy at the man's side. "So…you're traveling with your son?"

The man couldn't have been more than late twenties, but the way he spoke, he almost sounded elderly. "Ah, yes…say hello to the nice people, Sephiroth."

The boy just pouted, looking down at his plate.

"I apologize," Hojo said, waving his hand. "He can be a little shy."

The girl's mother smiled, gently. "That's okay, maybe he just needs someone to talk to. Ifalna?"

The little girl stepped out of the kitchen. Her parent's both stood on either side of her, holding her proudly.

They missed the light that sparkled in Hojo's eyes.

"This is our daughter, Ifalna," the two of them said, ignorant of what the man was already deducing.

"What a delightful young woman," Hojo smiled, his plate already forgotten. "Say hello, Sephiroth."

The boy's pout did not go away. "…Hello."

Ifalna beamed, happy to see someone her own age. "Hi there!"

Her mother smiled in delight. "Oh how nice!"

Her father smiled as well. "Why don't you two run along and play? I'm sure you'll get along just –"

"Actually," Hojo said, getting up suddenly, "We're getting up very early, I'm afraid. I really don't want Sephiroth staying up too late."

As Hojo made his way upstairs, Ifalna watched as her parent's waved goodnight. As she did, she saw the silver haired boy turn his head and look at her before disappearing up the stairs.

It was later in the evening when Ifalna heard footsteps. She and her parents were already in their beds, it was unusual for anyone to up at this cold hour. Gingerly, she stepped out of her bed into her night robe and slippers and opened her door a crack to see who it was.

Ifalna saw a figure standing by the window, their shadow lighting up by moonlight. Slowly and quietly as she could, she stepped out of her room and crept down the hall till she could see who it was.

Ifalna almost gasped when she did. "S…Sephiroth?"

The boy turned his head and fixed her with an odd stare. His hair was shoulder length, untrimmed and uncared for. And his green eyes spoke volumes more than his tender young age would suggest.

"What's the matter?" Ifalna asked as she approached him. "Can't sleep?"

The boy shook his head.

Ifalna got up the courage to stand next to the boy, staring out the window with him.

"So…where are you from?" She asked, after a long while.

The boy acted like he hadn't heard, before sighing. "I don't know. Everywhere, I guess. I…I never had a hometown. I've always just…been traveling around with Hojo."

Ifalna frowned. "You mean your father?"

Sephiroth shook his head. "He's not my father. That's just his cover story."

Ifalna frowned. "He's not? So why…?"

Her questioned died off and no answer came. There was another long wait as both stood there, watching the stars and feeling the cold night air.

"So…I guess you'll be leaving tomorrow then?" Ifalna said, sadly. She didn't know why, but she was beginning to like the boy.

He nodded, his silver hair reflecting the moonlight.

"Well…I wish you well, wherever you go…" she muttered.

The silver haired boy tried to smile. "Yeah…"

Ifalna bit her lip. If this kid didn't start cheering up…

"Close your eyes," she said.

Sephiroth blinked. "What?"

Ifalna suppressed a giggle. "Just do it."

Reluctantly, he obeyed, shutting his eyes tightly.

They flew open several seconds later.

"Goodnight," she whispered, dashing to her room and closing the door.

Sephiroth's face was red and his heart was pounding. Safe behind her door, Ifalna was much the same. She couldn't believe herself! She had just kissed him! She hardly knew the boy, and she'd kissed him!

She hurriedly got back into bed, practically squirming with her little secret. Wait till the girl in town hear about this!

Sephiroth, for his part, didn't feel like going to bed anytime soon.

Back inside his room, Hojo contemplated the future.

"That girl…she bears the mark of The Ancients…" he grinned. "She'll have a part to play…very soon…"

The next morning, Sephiroth looked for Ifalna. When asked, her parents said she was still sleeping. Reluctantly, he was herded out the door by his father, unknowing that a pair of eyes watched him from the window of Ifalna's room.

"Goodbye," she mouthed, hoping he would turn his head up and see.

Maybe it was meant to be. Maybe it wasn't. The coming years would find her wed to a respected scientist. Later years would find her with child. Over her lifetime, she would discover who she really was, and what fate she carried. But maybe…

Maybe something could have come of that small kindling between the last of the Ancients, and the last of Jenova's forebears.

Maybe the wars fought between their ancestors would finally end with that simple bond.

Maybe, she could have found happiness in his arms.

Maybe that union could have sparked understanding and compassion in the man who would find himself cold and stark.

Maybe she could have found safety from the man he would learn to call father.

Maybe…

But fate had a different story to tell.