Chapter Forty-One: The Proposal

It had started to snow again, though without rage or ire. The night was serene, the creatures of the night sleeping the season away, and all the other whispers of nature silenced by the downy flakes falling as softly as feathers.

Neither the Wutaian merchant prisoners nor their miko, locked in isolation in the back of the truck, did anything to fight. Their submission dampened even the spirits of his own men.

All was still. Even when Jones, the only man in Sephiroth's troop who could speak Wutaiese, returned from scouting, he was not able to get a single word from either the men or the veiled priestess who seethed in her chains – bound, but not defeated.

Sephiroth led the men in setting up camp. One by one, two-man tents were erected by the side of the road, as Sephiroth started a campfire with kindling he'd had the foresight to gather before they reached the forsaken buttes. With a whisper, the fire materia in his fingers consumed the wood, and the men gravitated to it without being told.

His own tent was the last to join the sad cluster of meager dwellings, identical to the others except for the fact that he would be its sole occupant.

"I want two men to stand guard tonight," Sephiroth said. "Divide the night into four shifts, and concentrate on the prisoners."

"Yes, sir," the men said, out of sync and forlorn. Since they had captured and bound the prisoners, he hadn't missed some of the men glancing at the supply truck or a few sniggered remarks passing between his men. "And I should hope it would go without saying that the woman is not to be touched."

Before retreating to his tent, he entered the supply truck. The miko's hands were chained above her, binding her to a rail of the truck's interior. Even sitting far below him on the filthy floor of the truck, head down and body veiled, she displayed a fiery, biting grace.

"Have you reconsidered your silence?" he asked her.

He could feel her glare from under the veil. She did not speak a word.

"As you will," he said, dropping a small bundle wrapped in a handkerchief to the ground, and leaving her to be.

With that, he retired to his own tent for the night.

With a heavy exhale, he sat at the folding table that replaced the second cot in his tent. He flipped on the military lantern and spread out papers in its meager glow. There was too much to do to sleep tonight.

It was quiet, too quiet. The air was heavy with unease. He heard one of the men whisper something about a curse. He did not believe in such things, but he could not deny that since they had captured their prisoners, a pall had been cast over them, so palpable as to leave no ability to deny its existence.

He heard two guards wake two more men several hours later, and the newly awoken troops grumbling as they took their posts. He heard one of them complain that they couldn't sleep, that this place was haunted.

It was after the second shift that he heard the sound he had waited for: the soft groaning as the supply truck door was opened and then slowly, cautiously, shut again.

He waited more, putting down his pen and closing his eyes to focus his senses on the scene unfolding just outside his tent.

The crunch of footsteps in the snow – bold ones, those of his men who had nothing to fear, and softer ones, silent to all but mako-enhanced ears. He did not care about the footsteps of his men, and listened only for signs of the silent one. There was stillness, waiting expertly in the shadows, until the third shift began. The wanderer was taking advantage of the break in the shifts, he thought in admiration, before daring to ghost through the snow again in the slowest, most patient escape he had ever witnessed.

She had found the keys he had left for her, then. He nodded, appreciating the skill with which she maneuvered, and that she'd had the foresight to calculate her escape instead of making a blind dash for it.

This was no miko, he knew. This was a woman born and raised in constant peril, and who had learned well from being in continual danger.

He resumed his writing, scribbling notes of the terrain onto his map. He would very much have liked to have spoken with her, this woman veiled in mystery and elegance with eyes of hellfire.

When the back flap of his tent was thrown aside, he admitted to being taken aback.

He had set her free, but now, the miko was standing in his tent, key and her unlocked shackles in hand, returning to the direct presence of her captor.

The action made absolutely no sense.

Sephiroth rose to his feet at her arrival, and for several long minutes, they stared at each other. She was unveiled now, and was not wearing her cloak of straw. Without them, he could see her as she really was, dressed in robes embroidered with gold and pearls, pins of ivory and jade in her hair, and eyes alight with rage.

She was…extraordinary.

She broke the silence by tossing the shackle and the key to his table. "Why?" she demanded. "Why did you free me?"

"You did that yourself," Sephiroth said. "And I commend your skill."

"Don't toy with me!" she seethed. "What game are you playing?"

"I could ask you the same question," Sephiroth said, voice cool. "Why did you return when you could have walked free?"

She did not answer him immediately. She did not even answer him within a minute. Slowly, he watched as her wild, sparking rage was pulled into composure, still alight, but now pulled about her into regal order, wearing it as elegantly as a cloak.

"I will speak," she said. "I will tell you who I am, and why the weapons were in our possessions. In return, you will let the merchants go and you will let me walk free. Then, you will forget you ever saw me."

"That's quite the request," he said. "I will agree to listen to your story, but the merchants must prove their own innocence."

"My story will prove they are guiltless," she said. "I will not speak until their freedom is assured."

"Why should I consent?" he asked her. "I could recapture you now, and let the Turks get the same information from you."

"Because if you really intended to do that you never would have freed me in the first place." She frowned, a delicate tilt of ruby lips. "You are many things, General," she said, "but you are not a monster. You never intended me harm. Not from the very beginning. You captured me because you thought that the merchants I was traveling with meant to hurt me, which was why you allowed me to escape. Under your protection, and with the merchants in chains, you thought I would be safe." Her lips pressed into a tight line. He read her thoughts clear as day in her eyes. She knew what he had done, but not why.

The corner of Sephiroth's lips curled into a smirk. She caught on fast. She was smart, level-headed under her spite – calculating. She had fulfilled his expectations of her and more. It was fascinating.

"If you knew all this, why did you return?"

"For the sake of my comrades," she said. "To prove their innocence to you, and set them free."

"Speak, then," Sephiroth said as he took a seat, folding his hands and resting his chin on them as he propped his elbows on the desk. "If you can assure me of their innocence, I will release them."

"Not here," she said. "Not where there is any chance of our conversation being overheard."

Sephiroth raised a single eyebrow in question as he regarded her levelly over his folded hands.

"The secrets I am about to entrust to you," she said slowly, "they are not just my own. They are Wutai's."

Sephiroth regarded with interest her for a moment longer, but she revealed nothing. She would not talk unless it was on her own terms.

"Very well," he said, rising to his feet. "Let us walk, then."


Sephiroth had always known there was a fundamental difference between the Continents and Wutai. It was a difference deeper than culture alone, perhaps deep enough to be said that their souls were so deeply divergent as to be irreconcilable. He didn't know what it was exactly, whether it really was the presence of gods as the Wutaians claimed, or whether Wutai really did possess magic foreign to the lands to the east, but he knew that whatever it was about this land led him to believe, without a doubt, that the fairy tale that Yukihana told regarding her lineage was the truth.

"An interesting tale," he said when she had finished.

"You actually believe me?" she asked.

"I have no reason to doubt it."

She scoffed. "Most from the continents would, if I told them."

"I agree."

They were a long ways from camp, the lights from the tents twinkling in the distance, their winding footsteps a clear path back. Sephiroth held the lamp at his side, illuminating them and a barren circle of newly fallen snow around them.

"So the merchants were guards," he said, drawing his conclusion from her story. "Escorting you to safety from your father. You were not aware of the weapons, but they packed them in case you ran into your father's forces."

"Yes," she said. "They only did it to protect me."

"Very well, then. I am convinced they are innocent and pose no threat to Shinra. I can assure you that their freedom will be returned to them."

"Thank you," she said. "I trust you to honor your word."

"You will not continue to travel with them, then?"

Hana turned to face the horizon, where the sun was just beginning to peek over the distant mountains. "No," she said. "It was kind of Godo to assign them to me, and I am grateful for their faithfulness through it all, but I am most invisible when I am alone. I knew that I would part with them soon."

"Where will you go?" Sephiroth asked.

"I was not lying that my grandfather had a shrine nearby. I will go there to get supplies and rest for a few days. After that…" she shook her head. "I don't know."

Sephiroth hummed softly. She looked like a wanderer. She was strong, as he had seen, but under it all was a weariness only exposed after she had unveiled the whole truth about who she was.

He could…understand.

"Humor me," she said. "And answer one question for me now."

"I make no promises."

"Why go to the trouble?" she asked. "You could have easily passed me by and forgotten about our caravan. You didn't have to protect me like you did. Even though you didn't need to I know that was your intention."

"A fair question," he said, "with a long and complicated answer. Suffice it to say that you and I are not so very different."

Hana blinked, not understanding. "You…?" but a gentle breeze stole her whisper. She looked to the ground, brows furrowed in thought.

"I don't understand, but it was kind of you," she said. "So…thank you, I guess."

"There must be a better way," he said. "Running solves nothing, in the end."

"There is no other way," she said. "Believe me, I've tried it all. My father is a former SOLDIER. Besides being strong, he's ruthless, unstable, and a diabolical genius. Wherever I am, he's always found me. All I can do is enjoy my freedom during the spurts that I can get away."

"You are so sure of it, when such things mean nothing to me."

Hana shook her head and laughed bitterly. "I guess you have reason to boast in your strength. But no. Even you couldn't help. You'd have to let me move in and keep me in your sight constantly, night and day. You might as well marry me for that."

"I would not be opposed to the notion."

Her laugh cut off abruptly and for a moment she seemed to choke on it. Her stare changed – became vacant, confused, and perhaps more than a little afraid. "I was joking," she said, trying to restore things back to the way they were.

"I was not," Sephiroth reaffirmed. With amusement, Sephiroth found that the words he had spoken, while not entirely voluntary, were not untrue.

He would not be opposed to marrying this woman.

He waited for her answer to break through the shock on her face.

"Is this…are you actually proposing to me?" she shot at him.

Sephiroth hummed. "I suppose I am."

A million emotions were flying across her face and through her eyes, all vying for control. He watched her mouth fall time and time again, speechless.

"Forgive me, I do not believe I have followed proper protocol," Sephiroth said mildly.

"Proper?" Hana screamed. Rage, it seemed, had won the fight. She bent down and flung a fistful of snow at him with all her strength. "You're disgusting! Do you think this is some kind of joke? How dare you toy with me like that! You despicable…! They were right about you after all! You are a monster, you hear me? A monster. I don't know how I ever thought you could be anything different! Well, you sure showed me so the last laugh is yours, take it!"

Sephiroth calmly brushed the snow off his jacket. By that time Hana had already turned her back and was storming away, running as fast as she could to get away from him.

The corners of his lips turned down.

Too blunt. Angeal had often scolded him for this flaw of his.

Sephiroth watched her form grow smaller and smaller with the distance.

He was only now beginning to understand what he had meant himself, but he had not been meaning to toy with her.


Impossible. Inconceivable. The destroyer of Wutai, ShinRa's hero, had just proposed to make her his wife.

Hana's thoughts were incomprehensible, running together in such a dizzying barrage of emotions that she could no longer tell the anger from the hurt.

How could he propose marriage…!?

She did not feel the pain in her limbs from her sprint or the cold of the snow. As a solidarity, she was confusion, she was hurt.

"Monster," she hissed again and again. "Sick, twisted monster…"

He could take any one of his thousands of fans as a bride to do whatever he wanted with. Or all of them! What did she care? She would not let her be taken over to be a pretty little war bride and then tossed aside as soon as it became inconvenient.

The monks at her grandfather's shrine brought her food, but she could not eat. They gave her a futon and her own room to rest in but she could not sleep. As dawn and then daylight came, the predicament only became worse. The night was gone, and something left with it that could never be recovered.

She tossed and turned in her sheets.

The more emotion faded, the more reason spoke.

It wasn't just a way to freedom, it was probably the only way. It was the best chance she'd ever gotten, and likely the last chance she would ever get.

He could protect her. He was Sephiroth, nigh unto the god of war.

And he had offered it.

A part of her argued that he probably didn't mean it, to which she decided that it didn't matter if he did or not. Plenty of people married for personal advantage – it was the first law of the Wutaian court and as much as the Continents touted a devotion to true love, the aristocracy was no stranger to the practice either.

What was love, anyway? It didn't protect you. It couldn't keep you alive. In her situation, such a thing was superfluous.

The more emotion faded, the more she knew what she had to do.

For the hope of living a life free from the tyranny of her father, she had to marry Sephiroth.


A monk came later, bearing a message meant for Sephiroth. This wasn't the strangest thing to happen to the company that day, and the troops had no idea what it all meant. First thing that morning, the prisoners were released. No one had seen where the woman went. Next, Sephiroth had called a halt and kept them at their ragtag camp for the better part of the day.

The men watched as Sephiroth read the thin strip of paper, and saw something change in their commander.

It wasn't happiness, or peace, or even contentment.

Talking around the campfire later, after Sephiroth had disappeared without a word, they decided together that the best word for it was "resolution".


"If you really, truly meant what you said, come to the shrine in the town of Kuro tonight. –Hana"


A/N: I have been trying to write. But it just would not come. Not to save my life. So I gave up on Zack for the moment and wrote this instead to convince you I wasn't dead... But hey! This is a much requested chapter so I don't feel too bad about it. Back to trying to write Zack next chapter (my Zack muse died or something!).

And oh yeah, Seph's gotta react to learning about the Jenova Project. Yeah...that'll be *ahem* ...fun... O.O

I've got my work cut out for me so please cut me some slack. Much appreciation!

YAY FOR THE MOST AWKWARD PROPOSAL EVER! More of Sephiroth's reasoning behind this will be revealed later. It's one of the main plot points and I'm saving those cards for the most amazing moment ever! It's meant to be slightly disjointed and abrupt. They are a weird couple.

Does Hana seem different here? She's supposed to be. ;)