Unspoken
By mihoyonagi
Author's Note: All facts mentioned near the end of this chapter regarding Sephiroth's origins are factual- I have cited several sources, including Wikipedia as well as actual events from the FF7 spin-off Dirge of Cerberus- most of the factual evidence was taken from the game, as well as articles pertains to that specific game. If you remain unconvinced, please bear in mind that this is, after all, fan fiction, and to this point I have attempted to stay on track as far as events and previously unmentioned parts of Final Fantasy 7 series go (like how Sephiroth knew Zax- it was a little known fact that the two knew one another previous of the game until Crisis Core was announced, and since the synopsis of the game has yet to be delved deeply into it is up to the fans who are unable to obtain such resources to play the story out as they see fit).
Chapter 37: Anguish
The bitter wind had spent the entirety of the day screaming in Sephiroth's face; his cheeks were pink and raw to prove the mountain's contempt for those who wished to cross its dangerous peaks. His traveling companion looked no better; though Aerith's cheeks normally held quite a pretty rosy hue to them, throughout the day they had taken on a rather red, raw color. Sephiroth imagined that it must have been slightly painful for her, but there was little that could have been done to prevent it- they each had already fashioned one of their extra pieces of clothing around their neck and lips. They looked silly, but Sephiroth was certain he would rather be caught looking ridiculous than have to suffer through anymore windburn.
The sun was cruel and offered little in the way of warmth. It hung in the sky almost mockingly, lighting the path of the travelers, though it stayed too high up to warm anything. Knowing it wouldn't do any good, save for making him feel better, Sephiroth cursed whatever deity was charged with the Sun. Ifrit was a good candidate- the general cursed the fire demon. Just to stay on the safe side, he mentally chided Bahamut as well.
The only appeasing thing the terrible weather offered was peace of mind, though only at times Sephiroth was able to forget about the frigid wind. Aerith wasn't able to do much with conversation; her mouth and face were mostly covered by the shirt that kept the cold from her lungs. What little skin that peeked out was an attractive color of rose. It gave Sephiroth a long while to think, not that he hadn't had plenty of time to think the previous night, though his mind didn't churn up any new ideas about winning Aerith's affections.
At long last were they able to remove their makeshift scarves and hats and breathe. The air of the inner mountain pass was stale but was not painful to inhale; it wasn't freezing and thusly welcome.
Aerith stretched her hands over hear head, and the general noticed that her fingertips were a ghastly shade of pink. Had she been clinging to the scarf around her face so tightly? He couldn't have done much for her windburn, but for the cold? Perhaps he could have done more. Feeling a twinge of regret that he hadn't noticed how cold she had been earlier, Sephiroth fished through his bags and managed to find a sweater for her to wear. It was his, and even though he rather the liked the idea of her wearing his clothing, he wouldn't be one to admit it quite yet, or at least out loud. He was pleased that it would offer her a little more warmth. When he handed it to her, she accepted it without hesitation, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the cold. "Thank you."
It was only after she donned the sweater that Sephiroth noticed her curious gaze. "Are you sure you're warm enough?"
He held up a hand and shook his head; yes, his face and his hands were quite cold, but that was due to the fact that they had been exposed to the frosty-win and bitter mountain air. The rest of him that had thankfully been covered by cloth had stayed warm enough not to bother him much. He felt rather terrible admitting it to himself, but that was the reason he hadn't noticed how cold Aerith had become; he was used to the frost of the mountains. Never before had he been forced to think of the comfort of another person, and so his mind didn't much wander toward how chilled his flower girl might have become. The rest of their traveling, albeit the small cold spell they had encountered while venturing into Midgar, had been through mostly warm weather. Body temperature was not something Sephiroth thought of on his own, and so it hadn't truly registered in his mind that Aerith might have been cold.
"Can we take a break?" Aerith's voice was hopeful, but gentle; she was tired, but the tone she used when she spoke told Sephiroth that, had he wished it, they could have continued to travel.
He wouldn't be one to deny her much of anything she asked him, least something a silly as small break after they had found refuge from the wind. Sephiroth hardly thought that Cloud could have followed them so far in two days. The fishing boat they had boarded passage on hadn't been going to the coast of Rocket Town until the morning they had left Wutai, and it would be hard pressed to find them again; after they had unloaded their catch at the pier, Sephiroth was sure they had headed directly back out to sea. With a catch as good as that which had they acquired, how could they have not been greedy for more? Besides, no one in Rocket Town would have recognized them- not with all of the faces out on the street that day for the celebration. What was thirty minutes to rest and eat? Sephiroth nodded, placing his back pack next to the small, flat rock he decided to sit upon.
Aerith had much of the same idea, and flopped down across from him atop another flat rock. The stone in which she sat was higher off the ground that the one Sephiroth sat upon, and so Aerith's dainty feet swung with relief off the edge, hardly an inch off the ground. He watched as she sighed heavily, thankful for the refuge the innermost sanctum of the mountain offered.
"It's nice here, when then wind isn't beating my face, the cold isn't taking the air from my lungs, and the monsters aren't trying to eat me."
Sephiroth smiled more to himself at her comment than to her. She was so sweet, and so innocent- she could still see beauty in the most dangerous and dreadful of places. When Aerith looked around, he noticed, she perceived the beauty in things, no matter how rugged or decayed they were. In caves she never seemed to see the bones that littered the floor or the scratch marks that covered the walls, much like what they were surrounded by. Sephiroth mused to himself that she most likely saw the walls glittering with minerals, the stalactites and stalagmites shimmering with wetness. She had, after all, seen more to him than anyone else had bothered to notice, so perhaps her naiveté wasn't such a bad thing. He had never been much of the optimist, after all. The glass mostly stayed half empty in the realm of his previous life.
He supposed that, in its own unique way, the cave was very beautiful.
After much looking around, Sephiroth turned his attention back to Aerith's needs. Food was something his body had never previous required on a daily basis, and in all honesty he had been eating regular meals with Aerith so that she would not worry about his condition. Because he had begun to so much every day, his body seemed to slowly become used to the consumption of food and was now something his stomach occasionally made noises over, though not often. Keeping warm seemed to have taken a little more energy than he thought, and so he set to dig through his back pack for something nourishing that the two of them could share.
Dried meat, an apple each, and a handful of nuts with dried berries was hardly a meal, but Aerith didn't complain about what she had been given. Sephiroth assumed that she, too, knew they were close to Nibelheim and would be eating a hot meal and resting at the inn before night took over the mountainside. They ate their meal in silence, Sephiroth lacking the ability to carry on conversation and Aerith happily chewing a piece of jerky while looking around at the rest of the cave, apparently blissful and unaware of much else around her.
They finished their lunch and gathered their things, Sephiroth glad they no longer had to wear random pieces of clothing around their faces like scarves.
But before they began to walk much further, Sephiroth's ears picked up on the most peculiar sound; it was noise of two pairs of feet, walking toward them and around the bend of the cave hardly ten feet in front of them.
The hair on the back of Sephiroth's neck stood straight up.
The heavy shuffle of boots, whose owners sounded most wary, echoed throughout the pass. Sephiroth looked behind him to motion for Aerith to stay near his back, but she didn't need the direction; she was already huddled up near his side, peering cautiously in front of them.
Cautious was the only thing left for the pair to be- after all they had gone through, passing travelers could end up being much more than mere hikers. Voices sounded, and Sephiroth and Aerith waited and listened.
To Sephiroth, the voices sounded slightly familiar. Carefully, he tuned the harsh ring of the wind out and focused on what the voices were saying.
"They aren't going to come through here; you know it as well as I. He's out of his mind."
"Whatever. You can think what you want, and I can think anything I want, okay? If I want to think she's back, I can think it all I want. It's not hurting you. You're such a grump."
Sephiroth's eyes narrowed with suspicion. He had heard those voices somewhere before, of that he was sure. It was only when he heard Aerith intake a sharp breath did he realize who the voices belonged to- the ex-Turk, and the annoying Wutai girl; Cloud's friends, most likely set to watch the pass for activity based off what Sephiroth could gather from their small conversation.
Perhaps it was the howl of the wind that had dulled Sephiroth hearing, or perhaps he was merely losing his edge; no matter what the reason, neither Sephiroth nor Aerith had enough time to react to the pair of feet that had suddenly jumped into view.
Would they be hostile? Sephiroth couldn't take chances, not with Aerith behind him. Moving the both of them would have required quite a bit of work, and he was certain they would be caught before they would be able to retreat to a safe distance. With no other solution in sight, Sephiroth drew his mighty Masamune in one silent, lightning-fast movement and moved his feet to position himself in his fighting stance. He would not advance, not with Aerith so near him, but he would not retreat, either.
It was several moments before actual reactions occurred. Four pairs of eyes gazed intently around, and if Sephiroth didn't know any better he would have sworn that he could see both of the stranger's minds shut off for a mere fraction of a second.
When the circumstances were finally registered, numerous things happened at once; the self-proclaimed ninja shrieked and scrunched over while covering her head; the ex-Turk, who Sephiroth suddenly remembered to be a gunman, drew his three-barrel shotgun and aimed it directly at Sephiroth's head; Sephiroth stood straight and remained perfectly still with his katana carefully raised and ready to strike were anyone to move; Aerith gasped and took several steps back. Everything occurred within the time span of roughly a few seconds, though it felt like the world was turning in slow motion.
It was another few moments before anyone really comprehended what was happening. Aerith was the one who broke the silence. "Vincent! Don't shoot!"
Sephiroth watched as the gunman, Vincent, slowly inhaled deeply, obviously trying to calm himself. "This isn't possible. You can't be who you appear to be."
The ninja looked up, obviously shaking. Her eyes widened when her gaze fell from Sephiroth to the flower girl. "Aerith?" Her voice was quivering, and Sephiroth wasn't sure that anyone else had heard her whisper. She spoke louder, despite the shake still obvious in her speech. "Is that really you? Cloud wasn't lying?"
The general could practically hear Aerith's smile. "It's me Yuffie, I promise!" Rushing past Sephiroth before he could even take note of her flight, Aerith ran past the general and straight into the arms of the trembling girl. "Oh, Yuffie- I missed you so much!"
Sephiroth, though completely aware of the reunion between the two girls, refused to take his eyes off of the red-caped man in front of him. He flexed his grip on Masamune, hoping to look somewhat threatening.
It was apparent the ex-Turk meant business. "What is he doing with you, Aerith?" Vincent didn't waste anytime on sappy hugs or smiles. His voice was cold and monotone.
"Vincent, please put your gun away." Sephiroth watched Aerith stand up from the corner of his eye; she still had her arms around the younger girl, Yuffie. "Please, he doesn't mean you any harm."
Vincent's eyes grew in diameter and his nostrils flared slightly. "What on the planet are you talking about? This is the mad man who killed you, not to mention tried to kill everyone else, and you expect me to believe that?"
Aerith immediately let go of the ninja and nearly sprinted to Sephiroth's side. She pulled at his arm, impatiently. "Put that damn thing away! Put it away so they'll know you aren't going to hurt anyone!"
Sephiroth shot Aerith a glance that was full of annoyance and anger, but she shot him back her own gaze, full of venom and impatience. "Do it or they'll never listen! Please!"
He wouldn't deny her, not when she said 'please' in such a sweet yet stubborn manner. Protecting her was his first priority, and if sheathing Masamune was part of that protection, he was willing to do it (though he really didn't see how being unarmed was going to help his chances of survival much, especially when he was looking down the business end of a shotgun held by a rather cold-blooded looking man).
The gunman's eyebrows shot to the sky when Sephiroth did what Aerith asked of him. Sephiroth watched the gun lower a few inches, no longer aiming for his head. The shot would still be fatal, however, at the height it was still raised to.
"Vincent?" Yuffie's voice was trembling. "What are we going to do?"
Aerith held up her hands and waved them in the air. "Please don't tell Cloud! Oh, please, Vincent!"
Sephiroth eyed the cape-clad man. He noticed the gun shift slightly; Vincent was hesitating. "Prove you are who you say you are. Tell us something that no one else would know."
A test? Sephiroth had put his sword away already- what else did the man want? Nevertheless, he watched Aerith bit her lip in concentration. "Vincent: you were an ex-Turk. We found you in a coffin in the basement of the Shinra Mansion, sleeping. You didn't show much interest in us until we mentioned Sephiroth's name, and the Shinra as well. Yuffie: you stole all of our materia right after we got the Tiny Bronco and went to see Wutai. We had to save you from that sleaze-ball, Don Corneo. The Turks were there, too, and they helped us out a little."
Vincent's eyes searched Yuffie's eyes for answers. He then turned to Aerith, searching her gaze for the truth. He found it, as Sephiroth was sure he would, and the gunman eventually lowered his weapon, though it never ventured back into its holster. "I think that we all need to sit down and have a little chat." Sephiroth understood this meant that no final decisions of notifying Cloud had been made. Sephiroth didn't want to have to run, but if it meant meeting up with Cloud again, he would gladly throw Aerith over his shoulder and run as far as his legs would carry him, and as far as they would allow. They could hide in the woods, if the circumstances called for it. He would not, however, put Aerith in danger. If Cloud killed him, Aerith would, in turn, die.
Vincent nodded to Sephiroth, motioning him to allow the ladies to walk first. Sephiroth watched as Aerith twined her fingers together with that of the Wutain girl. He noticed that Yuffie kept turning her head to look at him, cautiously. This, however, obviously did not deter her from the joy that sprouted up in her smile when she turned back to Aerith and began to chat.
While they walked down the small mountain pathway and neared the city, Sephiroth grew all the more uncomfortable. Vincent had not allowed him to walk free; the gunman had his weapon drawn and pointed straight at the back of the general's shock of silver hair. No chances, it seemed, were to be risked. Much to his own contempt and discomfort, Sephiroth understood why Vincent had his gun ready; he used to be quite a dangerous man. Shiva, he still was a dangerous man. This, however, did not make walking with the prospect of a shotgun less than ten feet from the back of his head any less enjoyable.
At least he was out of the blasted cold.
The rest of the day was mostly a blur to Sephiroth. They had reached the old Shinra Mansion at the foot of the mountains after hardly a hike (compared to the rest of their trek, that is) and had ventured inside. The once abandoned building had been fixed up, which was a surprise to Sephiroth; the walls were free of dust and dirt, new carpeting covered areas of the newly polished hard-wood flooring, and new furniture, though miss-matched as it was, made the rooms feel comfortable. The house no longer sent chills down Sephiroth's spine; it was very livable.
He vaguely remembered being served tea as Aerith recounted the story of their first meeting in no space, how they had ended up in Mideel, of how Sephiroth was without a voice, of nearly running into Cloud, and of Aerith's most recent kidnapping (she thankfully left out the part where cross-dressing was involved). Sephiroth was more concerned with the gun that was still casually pointed in his general direction, and so he paid little attention and failed to process most of what Aerith was saying.
"You truly cannot speak?" Vincent's voice was curious.
Sephiroth merely shot the man a dirty look and then rolled his eyes, looking away. As if I wasn't obvious he lacked a voice- Sephiroth had quite a mouthful to say to Vincent, and it was obvious he wished he were able to spit some kind of verbal venom based off the looks he was sending the gun.
Aerith continued the conversation as if she were the one the question had been directed to. "He can't talk at all. He's been using a notebook to communicate with me, through writing."
To this, Vincent raised an eyebrow.
Yuffie, much to Sephiroth's satisfaction, stayed quite through most of Aerith's explanation. She sat in silence on the couch, scrunched close to Aerith. Sephiroth watched her take a quite sip of tea from time to time. He had always thought her to be a little too chatty; loud-mouthed was the polite term, it was to be believed.
When Yuffie spoke, it was to answer a direct question Vincent had asked her: "What do you think we should do?"
Watching her heave a heavy sigh, Sephiroth shifted in his chair and waited, anxiously, for Yuffie to answer. Finally, she looked up and met Vincent's gaze.
"I don't think we should call Cloud. And I think we should let them stay here, too."
It was Sephiroth's turn to allow shock sneak upon his visage and take over. His eyebrows raised, he slowly sat back in his chair and waited for some sort of further explanation from the ninja. She offered no such thing; Yuffie took an additional sip from her tea cup, and then placed it on the coffee table. She pulled Aerith to her feet, and Sephiroth noticed how surprised his flower girl also looked. It was apparent that Aerith had been thinking most of the same thoughts regarding their fate as he had; that her friends were going to call on Cloud. "You need a bath." It was a rather sudden announcement from the ninja. Aerith followed Yuffie out of the room without protest, shock abundant on her face..
Being alone with Vincent, a gun pointed straight at his face, was more than a little uncomfortable for the general. When he moved to retrieve his only means of communication, he could hear Vincent's sharp intake of breath. Not paying attention to the man in the least, Sephiroth carried on what he was doing and pulled his notebook and one of the pens from his backpack. He scribbled a message on it, placed it on the coffee table, and then slid it across the wood varnish and towards the gunman who was positioned to pounce.
'Are you going to keep that thing staring me in the face forever, or am I allowed to wash up as well?'
Vincent slid the notebook back across the table. Sephiroth caught it with ease, shooting the gun and its owner another indignant look.
Sephiroth watched Vincent's inner turmoil play out in his dark eyes. The man was confused- the look on his face gave way to the emotions and thoughts running through his mind.
Finally, though obviously ill at ease, Vincent lowered his gun.
Sephiroth wrote another message, though this one was slightly longer, and passed it across the table.
'I will not harm you, the girl, or anyone else. Do you think Aerith would award me her trust so easily after all that has passed? She trusts me- you should too, though I don't care much if you decide to or not. It's your choice. On the other hand, I am rather tired and would appreciate a place to rest. Have you a room for me to occupy, or should I find a couch that suits my comfort?'
Sephiroth wasn't one for formalities. However, in the gunman's presence, he would be nothing but ceremonial. Vincent was Aerith's friend, not his. He wanted little to do with Vincent. It wasn't a matter of Sephiroth not liking Vincent; the general knew that because Aerith had liked him enough to be his friend, Vincent must not have been too terrible of a person. But that, therein, was the problem; Sephiroth didn't know Vincent, or the ninja girl for that matter, and held little in the line of wishes to better acquaint them. He would force himself to get along with the odd pair whom Aerith had once been close to, but other than getting along Sephiroth doubted that he could do little in the matter of becoming friends.
It wasn't that Sephiroth disliked the idea of having friends. Zax had been the closest thing he ever had to a friend, and the fellow soldier was, to say the least, pleasant to be around and talk to. The problem that had situated itself in front of Sephiroth was a rather awkward one. He had made amends with Aerith for the things he had done in his previous life. For some reason she had trusted him from the moment they met in no-space, after they had both passed beyond the world of the living. Making amends with her friends was not something the great general was ready to deal with yet.
Apparently not taking the formality in Sephiroth's note to heart, Vincent shrugged and stood up. "There are a few rooms that we can lend you for a while."
Sephiroth followed Vincent down the small hallway of the upper floor. He watched Vincent's reaction to walking in front of him, and Sephiroth thought it was rather amusing: Vincent's back muscles were tight, though his hands were relaxed and at his side. It was as if he feared and did not fear Sephiroth's presence at the same time. Stopping at the second to the last doorway in the hall, Vincent opened the door and allowed Sephiroth to proceed before him into the room.
The room was large, with a four-post bed set against the middle of one wall so as the headboard was against the wall with the three remaining sides being open and facing no sort of blockade. Two regal dressers sat on either side of the bed, and on each sat an equally regal desk lamp. A small but elaborate chandelier hung from the ceiling, the light bulbs made in such a way to look as though they were fire when the lights were turned on. The window on the opposing side of the room let the soft glow of the setting sun in.
It was cozy, but Sephiroth noticed no sighs that the room had been lived in. There was little to no dust on the dressers, and the sheets on the bed looked tight enough that he believed were he to throw a Gil coin on the bed, it would likely bounce off and hit the ceiling. He vaguely wondered what it would be like to take a running jump on a bed like that, though he quickly tucked away the almost childish thought.
Turning, he bowed to the looming gunman in the door. One last message would get Vincent out of his hair. 'I'm tired. Perhaps you could tell Aerith that I've decided to turn in early?'
Vincent handed Sephiroth the notebook back and nodded, shutting the door behind him as he went.
Finally reveling in some time to himself, Sephiroth placed his bag on the bed and began rummaging through it. The room, though cozy, felt empty; he was glad he had decided to keep several things Aerith would most likely call him silly for having in his backpack. He placed a single seashell, a sand dollar, on the dresser to the right of the bed, the one nearest the door. Next to that, he set a pure white feather. Though he knew not what kind of bird the feather came from, Sephiroth was pleased with its clean and beautiful appearance. It was soft, as well, and felt good when he ran it across his fingers.
He placed his bag on the floor after having properly decorated the side of his bed-stand to his liking. It was not much, but he had little to work with. Despite this, the room felt more like his room had back in the cottage he had shared with Aerith in Mideel. It was strange, he mused, that he would be able to sleep in a bed again. Nearly three months had passed since the last night he and Aerith had slept under the roof of the house the kind doctor had given them. Removing his boots, Sephiroth stretched out on the bed and slipped his hands behind his head, crossing his fingers to make a weave for the back of his head to rest in. He began to think of Aerith, of what she might be doing in the company of the ninja, and how long they would stay in the town with her old friends. It was strange to him to have a stable roof over his head where he didn't have to pay a nightly fee of one hundred Gil to sleep.
He wasn't sure when, exactly, he had drifted off to sleep, yet somehow he knew the knock that had woken him up had been Aerith. It was strange how he was able to seek out her presence with his senses, without really looking for her. Perhaps it was because of how close they had become as of late, or perhaps it was because of Sephiroth's feelings toward her. They hadn't, since Junon and Wutai, been separated, and even then when he had searched for her unconscious form at the docks it was somewhat effortless to find her.
Sephiroth opened the door on the second knock, rubbing his eyes and turning on the light.
Aerith smiled up at him when the door opened. "I was on my way to the restroom and thought that I would check up on you." She tilted her head and looked up at him, curiously. "Are you doing alright?"
He nodded, rubbing his other eye. Somehow, he had acquired a slight headache.
"Yuffie and I cooked a little something a while ago. I left a little on the kitchen counter for you, in case you decide you're hungry." Her smile was kind and peaceful.
Despite himself, Sephiroth had to admit he had never witnessed Aerith smile so beautifully. Was it because she was with her friends at long last? A deep surge of guilt swirled in the pit of his stomach.
He watched her tilt her head, staring up at him. Had he let his emotions escape and fall to his face? Had she seen what he had felt in his eyes?
"Are you alright, Sephiroth?"
He quickly covered the guilt on his face with a small smile, just for her. Why was she always so caring? He nodded, hoping she would believe him.
It was obvious she didn't, based off the look she gave him, but she didn't press it much further. "If you're not alright, you know you can tell me. I'm sorry if my being with my friends isn't comfortable for you."
Sephiroth held up his hand, smile still plastered to his face, and shook his head. He didn't want Aerith to worry about him; it wasn't her place. She worried enough for everyone else- she didn't need to worry about how he was feeling. He was uncomfortable around her friends, but he would be damned before he took her happiness away again.
Again, she smiled while she looked up at him. "I trust you, then."
He watched her hesitate for a moment, and then slowly reach a hand up to his face. She placed her palm flat on his cheek, pulling him down to eye level with her brilliant emerald eyes.
When she leaned in, Sephiroth held his breath. As she drew closer, he closed his eyes. She then placed a small kiss atop his forehead. Sephiroth could feel her smile before she pulled away. Still, he didn't open his eyes. "I forgive you, Sephiroth."
He heard her feet carry her down the hallway. Sephiroth waited until he heard a door close before he bothered to open his eyes. Staring down the hallway in the direction he knew she had traveled, he let his emotions get the better of him; he could feel the pain that danced across his face.
Sephiroth hadn't, however, meant anyone else to see it. A floorboard creaked behind him, and the general whipped his head around just in time to see Vincent step from the shadows that lined the stained-glass window at the end of the hall.
"Forgive me for overseeing," the gunman attempted to amend. "I know that wasn't supposed to be something I was meant to witness, but it has given me a better insight into your relationship with her."
Feeling red hot anger begin to bubble inside of his stomach, Sephiroth shot Vincent the nastiest glare he was capable of.
Holding his hands up in defense, Vincent attempted an apology coupled with an excuse. "I'm sorry, but you have to realize where I was coming from: I was merely watching the room, making sure you weren't going to try anything. You understand my caution, I am sure."
This wasn't a conversation the swordsman wanted to have. Feeling somewhat childish, and extremely foolish, Sephiroth all but slammed the door to this room. He paced by his bed several times before he heard Vincent knock on the door. Frustrated, Sephiroth stole a pillow from his bed and threw it at the door. It hit with a loud 'fwoomp' and then slid to the floor.
Vincent took his opportunity to open the door, apparently seeking more in the means of conversation despite Sephiroth's lack of speech. "I didn't mean to anger you, rest assured. If it had been up to me, I wouldn't have watched what happened."
Sephiroth faced the window, his back to the man in the doorway. He crossed his arms over his chest and began to tap his foot, impatiently, on the wood floor.
Sighing, Vincent's voice sounded slightly defeated. "I promise I didn't mean to trespass. Think of it this way, however; now that I have seen the two of you, and just how close you are, my feeling towards you are not stricken with the animosity they once were. If Aerith can forgive you, perhaps I should treat you better."
Turning his head slightly to the side, an indication that he was interested in what else the gunman had to say, Sephiroth stopped tapping his foot. He curiously raised an eyebrow, wondering if Vincent had anything more to say.
On the subject of Sephiroth and the flower girl, Vincent had nothing else to speak of. His next question threw Sephiroth for quite a loop.
"I have something that you must see before you leave. Will you accompany me to the mountains?"
Sephiroth managed a slight glare in Vincent's direction, making it clear that he didn't trust the ex-Turk.
Vincent shook his head. "Though you have no reason to trust me, you must understand that what I need to show you is something that is more important than you and I, or even Cloud. It's something that's been kept from you, and it's time you learned the truth. Few who are still alive know what really happened, those many years ago."
Damn the gunman; Sephiroth was officially curious.
"Meet me by the front gate in about five minutes. I'll tell the girls that we are going out to have a chat."
Sephiroth was torn- on one hand, while he knew that Vincent must have been a good enough man to befriend Aerith, the general was unsure if he could trust the stranger. However, having not been previously acquainted with the ex-Turk, Sephiroth had little to go on by means of faith in the man. It wasn't that Sephiroth hated Vincent; Sephiroth didn't know him.
The gunman's words, conversely, had been spoken in such a way that they brought Sephiroth's curiosity to a level the swordsman could not easily ignore. It was if Vincent's meaning had been purposely coded- he had said, after all, that few knew of what Sephiroth was apparently meant to see.
Despite the churning of his innards at the prospect of being alone with a man who could quite easily pose a lethal threat to him, Sephiroth decided the best course of action would be to merely follow Vincent and see what it that he was meant to see. Vincent had made mention that he would tell both and Aerith and Yuffie that the two men were going to have 'a chat', words poorly phrased due to Sephiroth's lack of speech capabilities, but understood none the less. This meant that whatever Sephiroth was meant to see was not something that would be so easily shared with the two girls; Sephiroth rather liked the intrigue Vincent's secret posed. It made him feel slightly mysterious, albeit a little important.
And so, after his mind was made up, Sephiroth donned a new set of clothing, his boots, attached Masamune to his belt, and met Vincent by the front door. Not surprised to see that the quiet gunman had already arrived, Sephiroth followed him outside and into the cool of the night.
"We are going to be doing a little running. Am I right in assume you will be able to keep up?"
Sephiroth let a sly grin pass over his lips and flash in Vincent's direction. True, Sephiroth had been traveling with Aerith for several months now, most of the trip on foot. Aerith had not the Soldier training, nor the physical stamina, that Sephiroth had, and so he hadn't pushed her to move faster when it was obvious she was doing all that she could. The general, on the other hand, was still in good condition. Perhaps he would ask the gunman for a race, to see who would have trouble keeping up with who. The idea, however, was short lived when Sephiroth realized he had left his notebook back on the dresser table in his room.
Shrugging, Sephiroth gave Vincent his attention once more.
"Alright, follow me then." There was not so much as a second of hesitation in Vincent's steps as he sped off toward the mountains, Sephiroth a mere fraction of a second behind him. Perhaps it was a good idea that Sephiroth hadn't asked Vincent for a race- he, after all, didn't know where they were going.
Despite the cold wind that bit at his face while he ran, Sephiroth felt most invigorated. It had been a long time since he had been able to move so freely, so quickly. He found himself contemplating if whether or not he was running faster than the wind was blowing. His lungs filled with fresh, cold air, his legs pumping nearly as fast as they could, Sephiroth followed Vincent's precise footsteps as they traveled over the peaks of the barren mountains.
It was rather disappointing when, much to Sephiroth's surprise, their journey came to an abrupt end at the shore of a tiny, hidden lake. In the outcroppings where sand met towering rock that hid the lake, Sephiroth spotted the entrance to a dark cave. It was nestled quietly, above the reach of the water, against the steep cliffs that formed a beautiful circle around the hidden body of water. Had his eyesight not been keen, Sephiroth would have missed it.
How befitting that someone as dark-looking as Vincent would bring him to such a dark-looking cave, Sephiroth mused.
Vincent's body was tense, which in turn made Sephiroth slightly tense. But, to Sephiroth, it didn't seem that Vincent was tense because of his presence- it was the cave that was making him nervous. Sephiroth's interested fully piqued, he walked with almost impatient steps behind Vincent.
They entered the cave which was, much to Sephiroth's surprise, dimly lit by what looked to be tiny, glowing crystals. The rocky growths looked almost like Mythril, but differed in texture and shape from what Sephiroth was used to seeing.
At the end of the long, naturally made hallway, was a room that seemed somewhat man-made. The floor was smooth as cut marble, and the walls reached high arcs that came together in the ceiling.
But it wasn't the room that caught Sephiroth's so much as what was in the room- pressed against the far wall of the space was a large, whole crystalline block, and inside of the crystal slept one of the most beautiful women Sephiroth had ever laid eyes upon.
"Lucrecia," Vincent's voice echoed throughout the room.
Sephiroth turned to the gunman, surprised he had run so far and so fast to merely look upon what seemed to be a perfectly reserved woman resting in rock. It was a grave.
"Lucrecia," Vincent repeated, acting as if Sephiroth wasn't standing next to him. The gunman lowered his head, as if in a respectful manner toward the woman. "Once upon a time, Lucrecia Crescent was a scientist, a Class A biotechnologist under the direction of a man named Grimore Valentine for Shinra. Lucrecia was as smart as she was beautiful, though her dreams of scientific breakthroughs often clouded her common sense. She was nearly perfect, save for her pigheadedness. She worked under Professor Gast, and alongside another- a profoundly twisted man. Assigned to investigate what later became known as the specimen Jenova, I was assigned to be her bodyguard of sorts. She and her fellow scientists falsely believed Jenova to have been of the Cetra race."
Upon hearing Jenova's name, Sephiroth's eyes narrowed. His gaze fell from the woman encased in crystal to the man next to him. What did Vincent know of Jenova, of her secrets, and why would he tell Sephiroth?
A heavy sigh escaped Vincent's lips, though Sephiroth noticed the gunman's gaze never left the face of the woman so beautifully preserved in crystal. "Something happened within the labs, and Grimore was killed. Lucrecia, grief-ridden, believed it to have been her fault. She became cold and distant toward me." Here Vincent paused and let out another deep sigh. "You see, Sephiroth, Grimore was my father, and so when he died Lucrecia couldn't bear to look at me- the guilt swallowed her whole, though I never once blamed her for anything. After my father's death, she began to distance herself from me and instead sought emotional refuge in the man who worked with Professor Gast."
Vincent, much to Sephiroth's surprise, closed his eyes. It looked as if he was fighting something inside of him, be it guilt or anger Sephiroth was unable to distinguish.
After another intake of breath, this one sounding slightly shaken, Vincent continued. "Shortly after she was driven to the arms of Professors Gast's colleague, Lucrecia discovered she was with his child. I tried to stop what they were planning, but the father shot me and made the the way I am today, through countless experiments, and all the while Lucrecia pushed herself to the limit, as far as a scientist could go, overstepping the limits of what is ethical for humans, of what is deemed right and wrong, and she offered up the life of her unborn child to the name of science for the Jenova project. The child's father stole up his baby, and never once let Lucrecia see it, let alone change her mind about what she had decided for it's future. She named him, but other than that single motherly act, Lucrecia was all but kept as a prisoner in her lab, unable to watch her child grow. You see, Sephiroth, the man who fathered Lucrecia's child was a scientist by the name of Hojo."
Vincent opened his eyes, gazing deeply at the woman's serene face. "I once told you your son was dead, Lucrecia. Forgive me for lying, but I only wanted peace for you. I have brought him to see you; he's a changed man, reborn, little to nothing like he once was. I believe he's even found a little happiness."
Reality hit Sephiroth like a brick to the side of his head.
Lucrecia Crescent was his real mother.
Growing up, he had been fed lie upon lie, swallowing each and the next without much question or worry- so long as he could be stronger, he would take anything Hojo could throw at him. For the entirety of his lifespan, he had thought Jenova to have been voluntarily, not forcefully, involved with him; the voice of his real mother, not the bitch who gave birth to him and then abandoned him.
But this?
To hear that his mother had once been sane, and had been quite human after all, and not altogether a terrible human being, made the world around Sephiroth spin and tilt. He was the outcome of a twisted experiment and of unrequited love, not of test-tubes and manually structured DNA.
He fell to his knees before the grave of his mother, his real mother, and placed his hands against the crystal that kept him from truly touching her. A million different emotions swam though him, and his blood turned to ice in his veins; Sephiroth was unsure if he should smile out of happy realization that Jenova was merely a bad dream, a parasite, or damn the woman in front of him for making everything he had ever known terrible misery.
Balling his fits with frustration and confused rage, the general fell to his hands and knees and pounded the floor with his clenched hands. It was an act merely used to relieve the stress and tension his body was suddenly full of, and as he relentlessly pounded the stone floor, it began to crack from the merciless beating it was helpless to stop. Over and over Sephiroth's hand hit the rock until he had made a crater in the floor the side of his fist. His knuckles were bloodied and battered, and despite knowing he had broken more than a few bones Sephiroth felt little to no pain in his hand.
It was a long while before he had gathered enough courage to look up again, intently staring at the frozen beauty he knew to be the woman who gave him life. He moved his gaze from his mother to where he supposed Vincent would stand. The space, however, was empty.
Again, Sephiroth looked to the frozen body of his mother.
For the first time in his life, Sephiroth, the great general, the destroyer of the Wutain army, the warrior, the killer of countless, cried.