Unspoken
By mihoyonagi
Chapter 17: Ease
Midgar, if it were at all possible, had flown right past downtrodden and straight into disgusting with not even so much as a foot on the brakes. As Sephiroth and his petite companion climbed over towering scrap heaps and looming mountains of rubble, the platinum-haired man made several mental notes, one among them being to never lose sight of Aerith within the city, not even within the time span it took for him to blink. Last time he had been in Midgar, it had been far from enjoyable. Now, however, the streets were crowded with trash and unwashed people hurrying and scurrying about the streets in no particular order to no particular destination.
Once they had reached the outskirts of the city, Aerith had removed the shirt he had lent her, though he refused to take it back at first. With a small smile she had reassured him that it was far warmer in the city, and with a face as innocent and trusting as hers, the general felt his stubbornness give way for a mere fraction of a second as he pulled his shirt back over his head and followed her inside.
He knew that Midgar had never been the cleanest of cities, but it had become far worse than a city of hopeless people; it had transformed into a thriving trash pile.
"This place has changed so much," Aerith remarked while looking around once they had crossed the last scrap pile. Her tone, however, was far from anything that even resembled dislike or, for that matter, even distaste. It was almost as if she didn't notice how much worse it had become.
Sephiroth stayed close to her. He suspected Aerith knew it was for protection, as he had never followed her so willingly close before, but she didn't speak of the matter and instead started off in a direction she seemed familiar with. Sephiroth followed close-suit, resting his hand on the hilt of the katana that swung at his side.
"This is Sector 2." She spoke as though only to herself. "That means we'll need to board the evening train to get to Sector 5."
He was glad that she knew where she was going, for he was lost. The streets hummed with people coming home from work, each and every footstep echoing off the high walls of the slums.
The outside, however, was nothing compared to the interior of the train. The compartment was overcrowded, the train didn't move nearly fast enough, and it smelled terribly of rotten eggs and the body odor.
To think; this was her home. An almost painful-like feeling gripped Sephiroth's stomach. For a moment he thought it to be the stink of the homeless man he stood against in the crowded train compartment, but when the feeling spread to other parts of his body he knew otherwise.
Was this what pity felt like?
How had such an innocent flower been raised in such a disgusting place? Sephiroth shuddered to think of what her childhood had really been like. How, by all the standards of men, had she turned out so innocent when raised in such a terrible place?
The lurching of the train, however, as it stopped at the Sector 5 platform brought him back to reality. Just like before, he stayed close to Aerith.
A short distance away from the train station, Aerith began to converse with the man she walked with, much like she had before they entered the city. "Until we got off the train, I had completely forgotten about the ID checks they used to have in place. I guess Midgar has finally gone to the dogs, not that it was any better before."
Sephiroth hadn't recalled the ID checks on the train, for his superiority in the Shinra military allowed him to overlook such simple things. He, however, took her word for it.
"Look!" Aerith lifted her arm and pointed in front of them. "There is my church."
If ever the dingy, desecrated building before them had been a church, Sephiroth was the Tooth Moogle. Bricks were scattered everywhere, there was a gaping hole in the roof, the stained glass windows were all broken, the wood looked rotted, and the paint looked as though it was peeling off from the sheer pollution of the air.
"It's not much, but this is where I used to spend most of my free time."
Aerith hadn't turned around to measure the general's reaction, for had she, she most likely would have laughed out loud. Sephiroth was glad for this, for his eyes were roughly the side of a chocobo's eyes; large, gleaming, though his were full of ghastly awe mixed with repulsion. His moth hung agape. He knew the slums to have been difficult on all those dwelling in them. This building, however, was, to say the least, the pits.
As if it were nothing more than a common building, Aerith pushed the door of the church open and walked inside. Sephiroth, once sure his mouth was shut and his eyes were back to their normal size, followed her through the dingy doorway.
What he saw took his breath away.
The church, while on the outside was disgusting, was absolutely breathtaking on the inside. A suspicious hole in the ceiling allowed a stray ray of sunlight filter into the church, lighting all of the walls with an almost ethereal glow. Few of the pews had survived the hardness of life in the slums, but the ones that had stood proud and tall, offering a place to sit for all those whose feet were weary. At the end of the isle was a clearing composed solely of green grass and bright, blooming flowers peeping up through the hole in the floor.
Sephiroth doubted there was a more beautiful place on earth.
Two children poked their heads out from behind one of the pews. Sephiroth turned to look at them. Were these the two children Aerith spoke of on their way to Midgar?
His suspicions were proved correct when the two youngsters crawled over the bench and ran at Aerith, arms wide, smiles wider.
"Fiel, Zella! Oh, I've missed you guys so much!" Aerith bent on her knees and scooped the two children into her arms, hugging both of them and kissing each one on their forehead in turn.
The boy, obviously the elder brother, spoke up after being let free of Aerith's grasp. "I knew you would come back! We kept the flowers nice and pretty for you while you were away."
Aerith looked over the boy's shoulder and to the clearing. "You sure did!"
The smaller child, Zella, tugged on her brother's sleeve. The boy looked to his sister, furrowed his brow, and then smiled. "Zella finally learned how to make flower crowns!"
Aerith smiled at the small girl and placed her hand on the child's cheek. "Did you now?"
Zella nodded. Her eyes, however, turned to look at Sephiroth who stood at the end of the isle. She held out her small hand and pointed at the silver-haired stranger in their church.
Aerith's eyes followed the child's stare. She smiled warmly at Sephiroth, and then turned back to the children. "It's okay guys, he's my friend." Placing a hand on Zella's head, her smile turned almost sad. "Zella, he's just like you- he has no voice."
Sephiroth was taken aback by the statement. The child was mute?
The little girl smiled as she walked up to him. Uncertain, Sephiroth took a tentative step backwards. Zella, however, was not intimidated, despite how he loomed over her. Reaching out a small hand, the girl took the general's hand in her own and led him to the flower patch. She sat down, pulling him down with her.
He sat amidst the flowers, cross-legged and utterly at a loss as of what to do. Curiously, he watched as the little girl at his side picked a few of the flowers and began to tie them gently together. It was only a matter of minutes before she had finished a bright ring of flowers.
Carefully she stood and walked behind Sephiroth. Standing on her tiptoes, despite the fact that he was sitting, she reached up and placed the flower crown upon his head. Then, once the ornament was in place, Zella wrapped her arms around his neck, hugged him, and pressed her tiny lips against his cheek.
Sephiroth had never felt sillier in his life.
He had also never felt more at peace.