Unspoken
By mihoyonagi
Chapter 43: Homecoming
Sephiroth was reluctant to fall asleep. He and Aerith had spent the last two and a half days on the small ferry, and the sea had been anything but kind to them. Much to his dismay, she had kept herself locked away from him. She would speak to him if the need arose, such as to inform him of the time of their next meal, or where she would be if he needed to find her, but she made it a daily task to leave as much space between them as possible.
He had, on several occasions, attempted to strike up familiar conversation with Aerith, hoping some of the cold ice she had set between them would melt. At times he reached her through what kindness he offered her, like when he pulled a chair out for her to sit in, and was rewarded with a lapse in judgment that resulted in a small smile. Still, Sephiroth was eager to take anything she offered.
Aching to reach out to her, to comfort her the way she so often had been able to comfort him, Sephiroth detested himself for allowing her to keep such distance between them. The words she had muttered into the cold, silent night air only moons before still rang out in his head. Still she ached, and yet he could find nothing in his power to comfort her with.
He wished he could take her in his arms and simply hold her, allow her to vent her frustration by means of tears and shouts, the way she had done in the depths of Cosmo Canyon. She was stressed, he could tell merely by looking upon her, and knew she was holding herself together if only as a front for him, as if to keep him out.
It wasn't the actual act of holding her and allowing her aggravation and sadness to be released that had him terrified to touch her.
Rather, it was the notion that she would somehow react violently.
Now, it wasn't as though Sephiroth feared Aerith would hurt him in any physical manner. She was gentle in her nature, even when pushed to her limits. It was, however, the fear that she would further retreat into herself were he to bring her close that kept his mind riddled with guilt.
She avoided him like a disease: it wasn't his place to merely scoop her up and force her close to him, no matter how much Sephiroth wished he could ease her pain.
And while Sephiroth had been reluctant to fall asleep on the third night of their seaward journey, his lack of enthusiasm fell less upon the side of waking up with Aerith having left before him again, but rather toward fact that the boat was tossing and turning so violently that he was sure he was going to lose the cake he had so thoroughly enjoyed three hours prior.
Aerith was always on his mind.
Offering his semi-digested cake as tribute to the porcelain God, was, however, the current problematic circumstance his mind was driven into concentrating priority upon.
It was by great miracle, Sephiroth noted, that he was able to fall asleep. His body was not used to nausea.
It was not, however, a pleasant situation to be woken, quite abruptly it was to be added, by Aerith's sharp intake of breath.
He shot out of bed instantaneously, tearing his legs free of the sheets and hastily maneuvering to his feet. His eyes feel to Aerith, who sat completely still with her hands over her gaping mouth.
Sephiroth could see her eyes begin to tear.
He cursed bitterly to himself. What, in Shiva's frozen brassiere, was wrong?
Slowly, as if afraid were she move to fast everything would vanish, Aerith turned. Her eyes, round and wide with a mixture of what could be read as shock and absolute awe, turned to him.
"I hear it."
Sephiroth knitted his brow together in bewilderment. What, on the face of the planet, what she talking about?
His expression seemed, however, to convey exactly what was on his mind, for Aerith, after a large intake of air, spoke again. "The planet" I can hear the planet again."
Able only to blink, Sephiroth looked to Aerith with amazement apparent in his expression. His feet felt as though they had been frozen to the floorboards, and the air felt thick and suffocating.
As he watched her slowly relax her body from the shock, Sephiroth noticed she was shaking. Her eyes, glazed and empty, bore a hole through the wall in which she was concentrating so desperately on.
Worried for her safety, Sephiroth made a move for her, hoping to snap her out of her daze.
Aerith jumped when Sephiroth laid his hand on her shoulder. Still she shook, but it was obvious she was slowly gaining control over her body once more. Sephiroth watched her as she placed an open palm to her forehead, wrinkling her face up in a disgruntled manner.
"It's too much: everything is trying to talk to me at once. I can't make out what anyone is saying. It just sounds like there's a yelling competition in my head, and there's an echo."
She shook her head, as if it would relieve the tension in her skull. Looking up at him, she blinked a few times, obviously not sure what to do. "Will you get me a glass of water?" Her voice was low, as if it strained her to talk.
Sephiroth grew worried, though he heeded her request all the same. Returning from the bathroom, glass in hand, he handed the water to Aerith and watched, patiently, while she drank. She finished slowly, her eyes closed the entire time, and placed the empty glass on the bedside table.
Her hands were still shaking. Sephiroth waited for her to look up at him. Eventually, her eyes opened, though Sephiroth was slightly perturbed that she didn't meet his gaze. She blinked again, as if it cleared her head, though she never averted her empty gaze from the wall. "Everything is yelling. I can't make out any words, or even feelings."
Twisting his head to the side slightly, Sephiroth pondered what she had meant with her statement. Perhaps, he deliberated, it wasn't just words that were conveyed through the lifestream to her, but rather emotions aw well. It made sense, or so he thought. Emotions could have just as much of an impact on someone, the way they think or act, as words may, and considering the voices were all in Aerith's head, showing emotions to her instead of spoken words may have been easier. Perhaps it allowed her to understand certain things on a larger scale.
Sephiroth thought of how twisted irony could be. Emotions were easy to express, even without words, but given he had no voice, he had found communication difficult. He wasn't used to sharing, let alone exploring, his emotions, and without a voice had often been rendered, in certain circumstances, without control.
Aerith's sigh snapped him out of his thoughts on irony. His attention immediately went back to her.
He watched as she slowly laid back down, the crook of her arm going up to cover her eyes from the faint light that snuck through the holes in the window coverings. "I am going to try to go back to sleep, or something. I don't think I'll be able to walk like this. The whole world is spinning. Can you ask one of the crew when we're meant to land? All of this tossing and turning isn't making me feel any better."
Without hesitation, Sephiroth stood and left the cabin. He was eager to remove himself from the boat, and was pleased when, upon arriving on deck, to see a harbor not far off the port bow. Smiling, he quickly returned to the cabin and reported his findings to Aerith.
'It shouldn't be longer than a few hours before we dock in Mideel.'
Aerith smiled weakly, handing his notebook back to him. "Will you get me another glass of water?"
Glad to have something to occupy his mind, Sephiroth returned from the bathroom with another glassful of water. He was slightly troubled when he was forced to help Aerith sit up enough to drink. Even in the dim room, Sephiroth could tell her face was pale. Her eyes were lined with dark rings. He was pleased, at least, to noticed that her shaking had stopped.
Tentatively, he placed his open palm to her forehead. Her cool skin gave no indication of fever. Her breathing, he noticed, was normal, though slightly slower. Sephiroth hoped he could attribute that to her relaxed state.
It was apparent, after several moments of comfortable silence, that Aerith had fallen back to sleep. Sephiroth was pleased that Aerith's face had a calm expression to it, obviously indicating that her head wasn't filled with yelling while in the escape of her dreams.
Giving himself something to do, Sephiroth removed most of his belongings from his backpack. Sorting through his items, he arranged them back into his backpack, making sure all of his potions were properly placed on top of his folded clothing so they would be easy to access, as well as be less prone to shatter. He remembered, with slight amusement, when he had first paid little attention to what he placed into his pack, and where, when he had been younger. It had been one of his first Soldier outings, and though he didn't want to bring anything with him, Shinra deemed it necessary for all of Soldier to bring at least a small first aid kid, and a clean pair of socks and underwear. Simply wanting to be done with the mission and be rid of the tiresome backpack, Sephiroth hadn't paid much attention to where he stored his potions. In the end, when the helicopter sent to retrieve his squadron had been late, he was left wearing the same pair of undergarments. It was a lesson he didn't need to be taught again.
Shuffling his feet around, trying to make himself comfortable, Sephiroth sighed as he peered around the dark room. He looked to Aerith, as something to do, and was mildly surprised when he noticed she was looking up at him. He hadn't detected when she had woken, and was slightly stunned to see her eyes open and gazing so intently up at him.
Placing a finger to his temple, Sephiroth tapped his head several times, indicating he wished to know of Aerith's headache.
She shrugged and removed her gaze from him, staring instead at the ceiling. "I feel a lot better, actually. My head doesn't hurt, but there's still a bunch of noise echoing inside."
Sephiroth nodded, understanding. She was confused and slightly distraught: he didn't expect her to be right as rain after only a few hours of rest.
The ship suddenly jerked somewhat violently, and Sephiroth found himself having to place his open palms on his bed for support. Aerith closed her eyes, as if the movement had brought on a wave of nausea. When she, however, opened her eyes and slowly sat up, Sephiroth could tell she was already beginning to recover from her previous sickness.
He was glad. It was difficult to see her like that.
The port outside was bustling with life, just as it had been those months ago when the two had left. Aerith walked slowly down the stationary set of steps that connected the boat to the dock, using the guard-railing for support. Her legs, Sephiroth observed, had a slight wobble to them, and he knew without much deliberation that she had, in only a few days, gained her sea-legs and loss the use of them on solid ground.
It was a curious sensation, though it affected him less, and Sephiroth found it strange that he had never before noticed it. Having been on a boat that was tossed and turned upon the waves of the sea, Sephiroth had found his legs had grown used to the constant up and down sensation the boat made his body endure. On solid earth, however, his knees felt like a soggy deck of playing cards, though he knew it was unlikely they would fold like such. He may have temporarily lost his lands legs, but he would soon enough gain them back. He had, after all, no wish what so ever to board another boat.
His stomach was still furious with him, though it had already proven its inability to release its angry, churning contents upon the floor, so he was merely forced to ignore it. He forced himself to concentrate on the ground, forcing his eyes downward in an attempt to keep the world from falling to a dizzying array of kaleidoscope proportions.
It didn't take long, of which he was glad, for his nausea to slowly fade. Though his stomach still occasionally protested, Sephiroth found it had become easier to walk and observe something other than the dirt by the time he and Aerith had reached the innermost parts of the town.
The baker Sephiroth remembered from long weeks past was on the corner, handing out samples to prospecting customers. The general watched his eyes brighten as he looked toward them.
"Is that you, Aerith?" The baker's voice was deep and awestruck, though his smile was mischievous.
Aerith smiled in return, her nausea obviously having faded. "Of course it's me!" Her laughter was light, which starkly contrasted the way she had been acting for the past few days.
The baker shook his head. "Half the town was in such a fit when they heard you had just left, up and gone, with no word to anyone. What, on this green planet, could make you run so fast that you couldn't say goodbye, at least to me?"
Aerith's smile was still bright, though her eyes were beginning to dim. She shifted from one foot to the other before she gave her answer. "My mom got sick, up in Kalm, and I had to leave right away. I was scared she wouldn't make it."
The baker, having bought Aerith's lie, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that, and I didn't mean to pry."
Shrugging, Aerith remained smiling. "She's fine, now. It worked out pretty well, though, because I hadn't been home in a while. We decided to stay there for a bit, that's all. I wanted to make sure she'd be okay if I were to leave again."
Sephiroth swallowed uncomfortably. Aerith hadn't spoken to the townspeople about her previous life before, and as far as he knew, no one in the town knew where he or Aerith had come from. All that anyone understood was that they had needed help one day, when he had stumbled upon the city, he and Aerith bleeding from the gaping wounds in their chest. No one had asked, no one had pressed, and it didn't seem that anyone cared in the slightest. Sephiroth grew worried that they would poke and prod more. Things, from this point, could only grow more complicated. Lies could become difficult.
He cursed himself for not having fabricated a cover-story earlier. They could just as easily have told everyone that they had decided, in the middle of the night, to go on a vacation or something.
As far as anyone in the town was concerned, he and Aerith already seemed like a couple based off the fact that they lived together, and a romantic getaway as an excuse as to why they left would fit their ambiguousness perfectly. They had, after all, stumbled into the city without indication: wouldn't it make sense for them to sneak out in such a way as well?
"I know we haven't said proper hellos yet, but I was wondering if you knew where Doctor Rej might be. We brought him something as payment for letting us use his cabin before."
Smiling, the baker pointed next door. "He just left here, actually, and I bet you can catch him in the pharmacy. Be sure to come about when you have some free time. My wife made up some more recipe cards for you, and little Denna misses you."
Aerith, again, smiled. "I'll be by as soon as I can. Thank you!"
Sephiroth threw Aerith a rather questioning look as they turned from the baker and his samples and started toward the pharmacy. He raised an eyebrow, silently asking what 'gift' she was talking about for the doctor.
She didn't make eye contact, but let a small, sly smile befall her lips. "When we were staying with in Nibelheim, and you were locked up in your room, Vincent took me into the basement and let me take a peek at the library. There were a few books Shinra had in glass cases, medical journals, instructional books, and what have you, that I thought would be put to better use to Rej than in any old, dusty display. So, I took them."
Sephiroth smiled, bemused. Leave it to Aerith to find the oddest things useful. True, however, the books she had hawked might prove to be useful still: Shinra was stingy about who got their hands on what their medical and scientific associations published, and there would be little chance the doctor would have anything close to what Aerith would present him with. Perhaps she thought to use it not only as payment for their previous stay at the cabin, but for future uses as well.
Sephiroth was jarred from his thoughts as they rounded a corner of one of the aisles and nearly collided with the good doctor.
Rej, in disbelief, started up at Sephiroth with wide, astonished eyes. His face turned almost ashen, as if he were looking through a ghost.
Aerith cheerily took Rej's hands in hers, drawing the physicians' attention toward her. "It's so good to see you again!" Her smile was real, her voice echoing with happiness.
Rej drew Aerith in for a hug, placing a hand on the back of her head. "I'm so glad you are alright, Aerith." His voice was low, as if he had truly suspected something terrible had happened to the two of them.
"I need to talk to you. Do you have a minute?"
Nodding, Rej let go of Aerith and once again let her hold his hands within his.
Sephiroth sighed, knowing that he would be of little help in conversation, and began to wander the aisles of the pharmacy. He glanced over bottles that promised their contents would strengthen one's bones, and others that claimed their pills were the best to lose weight with.
He grew anxious. Ideas had been spilling through his head all day, and as nightfall drew closer with every minute, so did his guilt grow. His heart, though lightened at seeing Aerith smile at the prospect of being home, was still cold and hard. He dreaded doing what he was thinking of, but there were few options left to him.
It would be a hard decision to make, and his mind and conscious struggled with it. Perhaps it was the reason, instead of the boat, that his stomach was doing aching so insistently.
He couldn't come to terms with himself for even thinking of such a thing, but he was left with few other options… Perhaps a solution would reveal itself by nightfall and he wouldn't have to-
"Seph?" Aerith turned down the aisle, cocking her head to the side when she saw him browsing. "I've talked to Rej, and showed him the books. He said they would be more than payment for the cabin, and told me that we're free to use it any time we want."
So, then, she had intended to bribe the doctor with her books. She was, he admired silently, quite intelligent, if not cunning. Sephiroth nodded, and they began toward the door.
Her steps faltered, and she paused for a moment, lost in thought. "He seemed like he was in a big rush when he left, though." She looked up at him, unsure. "Was it just me, or was he acting strange?"
Sephiroth thought on it a moment. True, the doctor's face had all but fallen off and rid itself of all pigmentation when he had laid eyes on Sephiroth. Perhaps it was merely the shock of seeing the two of them again. He nodded.
Aerith bit her lip, and then began for the door. She sighed, then shrugged, and walked into the streets.
The rest of the day Sephiroth was able to free his mind of most of his worries; he and Aerith had ventured off the wooden trail they had come so accustomed to before they had left and found, just as they had left it, the cabin.
The flowers Aerith had planted before they left were all in bloom, and a sea of rosy and earthen hues sprawled out before them. Sephiroth watched Aerith smile as they neared the cabin, sweeping her gaze from one end of the yard to the other. It was truly a beautiful sight, and even the general found himself stopping for a brief moment in order to get a good look at the flowers.
When they had entered the cabin, it was obvious there would be work to do before either of them could actually rest. Sephiroth took to dusting the stationary objects, moving tables and chairs, while Aerith busied herself with airing out their bedding and cleaning the dusty kitchen.
It was well into the night before either was satisfied with their work, but at long last it was done and they had little else to worry over. Their meal, much like they had shared within the past few days, was eaten in silence, and consisted of what leftovers they had remaining in their backpack from their journey. Sephiroth was pleased that the small food supply had lasted for so long, for he had occasionally, throughout the day, watched as Aerith removed several bags of garbage from the fridge and the cupboards.
The entire house smelled of lemon-scented floor cleaner, but there was little work that would be left for them to do the next day: if he lasted so long.
It was with a heavy heart that Sephiroth made a weighty decision, something that had been on his mind for days.
He would leave her.
A bolt in the night would be the only way to flee without her notice, as much as it pained him thinking of how he'd never be able to give her a proper goodbye, but he had weighed every other decision he had available to him and knew that leaving was the only thing left to do.
Though he loved her, and wished only to make her happy, a life on the run away from her friends would only cause her sorrow until her dying day. Facing Cloud was something he would never be able to do, because Sephiroth knew that he would never be forgiven. He had killed Aerith, yes, but he had ruined Cloud's entire life: the burning of his city, the murder of his parents, of Tifa's parents, of the townspeople, of Aerith, of Zax…
He wouldn't be responsible for placing Aerith in the face of danger like that. Even if he faced Cloud, what was there to do? Cloud was sure to kill him, and in turn her.
He had seen it when they had stayed with Yuffie and Vincent, and even Red; there were other things for her to live for, and other things to make her happy.
And, with a sad heart, Sephiroth realized that nothing he could offer her would appease her the way Cloud had.
Even if, by some off-chance, she didn't love Cloud, they were still friends and she would be torn between the two of them. He would never be able to face himself, knowing he had forced her to choose.
Cloud was pig-headed – he always had been – and he knew that they would never get along.
Being away from Aerith would be painful, but being around her while her heart ached and her judgment was torn would be too much.
She would forget him. Even if she didn't, and came to hate him, Sephiroth resolved he would come to terms with it. He, however, didn't have it in his heart to keep her on the run for the rest of her life, and he knew that he would never be welcomed with any of her friends, save the few he had the good graces of meeting.
Vincent, Yuffie, and Red had held little against Sephiroth, after Aerith explained the situation, but he, personally, had little to do with any of their pasts. Vincent had been involved with his mother, but there was little other connection there.
Sephiroth heaved a heavy sigh as he followed Aerith up the familiar set of stairs and toward their bedrooms.
She looked behind her as she neared the top. "Tired?"
He nodded in response.
She, truly, had no idea how exhausted he was, in body and in soul.
He prayed silently that whatever the future had in store for her, without him, it would be gentle. She had suffered so much, and deserved better than him.
She paused again when she neared her bedroom door, turning to face him. "Welcome home, I guess."
Again, he nodded. Though he was facing her, he couldn't bring himself to meet her intense gaze.
"Goodnight."
Once more, he nodded. This time, however, he met her eyes.
Dear Planet, he reminded himself, she was so beautiful.
When had he fallen so hard? How had she so easily turned him from a monster to a man?
He took in all of her with one last gaze.
How he hated himself for what he would do.
But it would be the only way to make her happy.
He sat on the edge of his bed for hours into the night, his heart pounding and his mind racing. His pen scribbled down the words he had been closely coveting inside of him for months, and as the letters sprawled fourth from the tip of the pen as he frantically tried to push his heart into what he wrote, he fought back tears.
How unkind, it seemed, that he had been given a second chance at life, yet what he truly wanted and needed was only Aerith's embrace.
He placed his journal, the one he had bee keeping since hardly a week after they had been resurrected, atop the pillow on his bed. With a shaking sigh, Sephiroth clicked off the light in his bedroom and quietly made his way down the stairs.
Slowly, he looked around the bottom floor, thinking of the time he had spent in the cabin.
Sudden movement from the floorboards above his head caused him to freeze. Light footsteps sounded down the upstairs hallway. Sephiroth heard the bathroom door close, then, several moments later, the water in the pipes of the bathroom begin quite the cacophony as it cascaded down the walls behind the kitchen.
Another set of footsteps could be heard. Slowly, they padded down the hall. Another door opened. Sephiroth found himself letting go of the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when he heard bedsprings groan under weight above him.
He waited.
The house went still again.
Unable to bring himself to leave just yet, Sephiroth ran his fingers over the familiar things around the bottom floor of the house, committing everything to memory. The time he had spent in the house, though short, had been what began to change him in the first place.
Aerith had, with her kind words, changed him into a human.
Where he would go, he didn't much care. Perhaps he would go visit those he had met on their travels. The children at the chocobo farm would be happy to see him, he was sure, and Sephiroth vaguely wondered if he would ever be able to meet up with Zahi and his sister again. He hoped they were well.
It didn't matter.
Slowly, with guilt and heartbreak weighing down his body, he made for the door.
The slamming of a bedroom door and the thundering sound of footsteps caused his heart to stop and his pace to falter. An enormous thump sounded, and, without being able to help himself, Sephiroth turned around.
Aerith was sprawled upon the floor, her hair loose and frazzled. Her swollen eyes were evidence enough of her tears, despite the fact that some still clung to the side of her face.
Sephiroth tried to shut everything out as he looked at her where she had fallen down the last few steps. She held up a shaking hand. The ring he had bought her was resting on the chain it had come with, entwined in her fingers. Her breath came in shallow gasps, as if the wind had been knocked out of her.
He looked down.
Opened to the last page he had written was his journal, resting on the hardwood floor.
Sephiroth swallowed, panic taking over his body.
He took a step backwards, placing a shaking hand to the doorknob behind him.
In an instant, she was to her feet. He hardly had time to blink before her arms were around his neck. Her steel-like grip crushed her to him without mercy as she let out a shriek into his shoulder, burying her face from the world.
He stood, dumbfounded, and let his arms go slack at his sides.
"Don't leave me! Please don't leave! I had no idea! Please, don't go!"
Her entire body shook against him.
"I need you! Please don't leave!"
The world around him spun.
His mind was empty.
"I love you!"
The world hit him like a ton of bricks to the side of his face.