The End is the beginning

Chapter 11 - First steps


Just a little note from the autor : Please, if you like this story, don't hesite to reviwe and subscribe, it help me a lot ! :) Thx and good reading


"Thirty-seven... Thirty-eight... Thirty... um... thirty-nine... thirty-ten... thirty-eleven..." After counting to "thirty-fifteen" chocobos for the fourth time, Adonis realized his efforts were in vain. He would never manage to fall asleep. Although his grandmother had recommended counting sheep, he preferred chocobos. He wondered if choosing a different animal was the reason for the failure of his grandmother's ancestral technique.

"Maybe that's why, right, Choco?" he whispered to his stuffed animal, hugging it tightly. "Maybe with sheep, it would work better! But I don't like sheep! Sheep are boring!" he grumbled.

He turned to one side of his bed, then the other. He curled up under his blanket, only to come out immediately. He grabbed his pillow and buried his head in it. In vain, tonight, the Sandman had decided to forget him. Yet his grandmother had always said, "When it's pitch dark, Adonis, that's when the Sandman comes to put you to sleep!"

But what did "pitch dark" mean, exactly? Because for him, it was always bright enough! His eyesight always allowed him to distinguish even the smallest details of his surroundings. Well, maybe a little less at night, he conceded. But darkness, he didn't know! What Adonis still didn't realize was that the rest of the human species didn't have the same extraordinary trait that his cat-like eyes, inherited from his father, granted him. Just like colorblind children don't realize that others see colors differently, Adonis thought everyone had the same night vision as he did.

The young boy sat up in bed. He heard the light snoring coming from the adjacent room. His grandmother had finally fallen asleep! Hooray!

"Hey! Choco! Do you want to go play?" he eagerly proposed to his stuffed toy.

"Oh yes! Oh yes! I really want to play!" he answered in a high-pitched voice, pretending to speak for the toy.

"Then, let's go!"

The child jumped out of bed, slipped his feet into his Mog slippers, and, accompanied by his faithful friend, quietly left his room. He tiptoed down the corridor and headed towards the grand staircase. The house was plunged in darkness. Only the moonlight filtering through the stained glass windows outlined the familiar shapes of the steps and the imposing carved marble banister. Nothing moved, except perhaps the dancing shadows of the leaves of the plants.

"Where are we going, Choco?" the boy whispered to his plush companion.

Choco didn't reply, of course. But his piercing eyes and fixed smile seemed to say, "Anywhere, as long as it's with you!"

Suddenly, Adonis heard voices coming from the kitchen downstairs. Those of Vincent and... and his "father." Adonis had often imagined what a father might be like. But what he had seen so far didn't match his expectations at all! From what he had observed in the village, a father was supposed to play, joke, give hugs, and scold if you misbehaved, right? But his? He didn't seem to do anything! Since he arrived two days ago, it was even hard for the boy to catch a glimpse of him in the mansion! He wasn't even present at mealtimes! Moreover, his grandmother and Vincent seemed to act strangely since the arrival of this mysterious father. Adonis had a hard time understanding why.

Suddenly, a troubling thought crossed his mind: what if it was his fault? What if he had done something wrong? That would explain why his grandmother and Vincent seemed angry, and why his father never spoke to him... Maybe he had done something very, very bad? The boy felt his heart tighten at this worrisome idea. He wondered if he had unintentionally caused harm to his family. However, he couldn't remember doing anything wrong these past few days. Yet the strange atmosphere at home worried him greatly.

Anxious and confused, Adonis decided to sneak down to the kitchen to try to find out what was going on. He moved stealthily, trying not to make any noise, until he reached the doorway downstairs. Inside, he found his father and Vincent engaged in an intense conversation:

"That woman, Selene... she hates me, doesn't she?" Sephiroth asked. He was sitting at the large wooden table, while Vincent, just behind him, was drying the dishes left in the sink.

He heard Vincent sigh before replying, "It's not entirely her fault. As you can imagine, the death of her daughter deeply affected her. She needed a scapegoat, and so far, you perfectly fit that role. She thought you had abandoned her daughter and the baby..."

"That's not true!" his father suddenly exclaimed, making him jump.

"I know, Sephiroth. You don't need to convince me." Vincent placed a comforting hand on the young man's shoulder.

Adonis watched them in silence.

"Selene is a wonderful woman with a big heart," the former TURK continued calmly. "Give her some time. She'll come to understand that she needs to give you a chance."

"I... I'm not sure I deserve it," his father stammered, lowering his gaze.

"You need to give yourself time as well," Vincent added with compassion.

Sephiroth then confessed sadly, "What if she's right? If I had been there, maybe Theia would still be alive..."

The ex-TURK, who was about to put the last glass in the cupboard, froze and retorted firmly, "And if I had been there, you never would have had that fate!"

Adonis moved closer, captivated by their exchange. He didn't understand everything, but deep down, he felt it was important.

Vincent finally put away the glass and turned around, speaking more calmly, "Listen... the past is what it is, and it can never be changed. Tormenting yourself won't change anything. Believe me, I know..."

His father nodded, his eyes still fixed on the table.

"You really cared for that young woman, didn't you?"

Another almost imperceptible nod behind his long silver bangs served as a response.

"She was... she was the only woman who made me feel... human," he admitted almost shyly.

"I'm sorry for what happened to her. Truly. But she left you a precious gift. She left you your son. You have to take care of him."

His father suddenly looked distraught. He lifted his chin and shook his head before murmuring, uncertain, "I don't know how to do that. I'm not good at it."

Vincent, still standing beside him, gave him a reassuring smile. "Start by spending some time with him. Adonis is a lovable child. He has his own character, but you'll get used to it quickly. And he has a vivid imagination. Tell him about one of your missions from when you were in SOLDIER, you're bound to capture his interest!"

The ex-SOLDIER suddenly cast an amused glance towards the door. With a subtle nod, he indicated it to Vincent and added, "Anyway, he's quite the little spy!"

Indeed, Sephiroth had noticed the boy as soon as he had crouched behind the doorframe. However, he had said nothing, waiting to see if the child would leave on his own or reveal his presence.

Vincent smiled knowingly at his son before moving towards the kitchen entrance. Gently, he opened the door wider, revealing Adonis, who stood there, eavesdropping on their conversation.

Caught in the act, Adonis felt his cheeks flush under the gaze of the two men.

"Good evening, little man!" the dark-haired man greeted kindly. "Tell me, shouldn't you have been in bed hours ago?"

Adonis nodded, embarrassed, before mumbling the first excuse that came to mind, "But... but... it's not my fault... I was really, really, really thirsty!"

"Thirsty?" his grandfather repeated, a bit skeptical.

Adonis nodded vigorously. This little rascal always had a thousand and one excuses for not going to sleep.

"Well, alright then. Come in," Vincent invited with a reassuring smile.

He stepped aside to let the child pass. Adonis sat at the table, nervously fiddling with his fingers and occasionally glancing at his father. With a contrite expression on his angelic face, he suddenly asked, "Vincent, did I... did I do something wrong?"

Clearly worried, he was biting his lip. Standing by the sink where he was filling a large glass of water, Vincent paused for a moment.

"That's a strange question! Why do you ask?" he finally replied.

"Well... you and Grandma seem really mad... so... I thought maybe it was my fault..."

The ex-TURK was surprised by the boy's unexpected remark. It was true that with the chilly atmosphere of the past few days, he had thought Adonis would eventually ask questions. However, he hadn't expected the child to believe he was the cause of the tension. An affectionate smile appeared on Vincent's face. This child really had a good heart.

"No, little man. Don't worry, you haven't done anything wrong. It's just grown-up stuff, you didn't do anything bad," he reassured him.

He placed the full glass in front of the boy, who eagerly drank.

"You know, your grandmother, she...," Vincent began.

"It's my fault," Sephiroth suddenly interrupted.

Seeing his son question his own behavior when he was innocent had deeply moved and disturbed him. The child wasn't to blame, yet he felt responsible for the tension his father's arrival had brought to their home.

Adonis turned his big jade eyes towards him, as did Vincent, who was apprehensive about what his son would reveal to the boy.

"Your grandmother, she... she's very angry with me for not being there for you... and..."

The warrior struggled to find his words. All he wanted was to dispel the child's sense of guilt, but the task was difficult for someone like him, unaccustomed to comforting others.

Witnessing his father's discomfort, the boy intervened, "But... it wasn't your fault, was it? That's what Vincent told me! It's because you almost died on a mission and the Lifestream healed you! Right?"

Feeling uneasy, Sephiroth kept his gaze fixed on his clasped hands on the table in front of him. "If I could change things... if I had known, that day... I would do everything to... to be there," he confessed, tormented by remorse.

His discomfort was evident, overwhelmed by his sense of guilt and regret.

Suddenly, he felt the small palm of the boy gently resting on his hand. A soft smile full of compassion lit up the boy's face.

"You know, it's okay!" the little boy added with a surprising assurance for his age. "It wasn't your fault!"

Gently, he patted the adult's hand, continuing to smile his sweet, angelic smile.

"And anyway, Grandma took really good care of me, you know! Grandma is super strong! She's the best grandma in the whole wide world! So it's okay!"

Vincent was deeply touched by his grandson's wise and kind attitude. He felt a pang in his heart seeing the child support his father in such a way, realizing just how mature and empathetic this little boy was for his age.

Finally, the ex-SOLDIER dared to meet his son's gaze. Grabbing his favorite stuffed animal, the boy exclaimed cheerfully, "See, this is Choco! He lost his mom and dad too! But it's okay because I take care of him! And I take really good care of him! So he's not sad!"

Under his chair, his little legs swung back and forth without stopping.

Judging that it was probably time for the child to go back to bed, Vincent stood up, placed his hand on the boy's head, and said quietly, "Alright. Adonis, now that you're not thirsty anymore, it's time to go back to bed."

The little one protested vehemently:

"No! What about my story? You said he had to tell me SOLDIER stories! So, I want my story!"

He paused, realizing that might not be the best way to ask. His grandmother, in her infinite wisdom, had often taught him to ask nicely. So, he tried again, more calmly, with his best puppy-dog eyes—the ones that always worked on his grandma. He hoped they would work on his dad too.

"Please, can I have my story?" he asked hopefully.

The ex-TURK stifled a laugh. His grandson was truly something.

"A… a SOLDIER story?" the poor warrior stammered, caught off guard and embarrassed.

He had recounted some of his missions in epic tales before, back when Lazard forced him to do endless interviews for Shinra's propaganda journals. And oh, how he had hated it! But now? What was he supposed to do? Vincent had just told the little one to go to bed. Should he follow his father's orders, or should he give in to the boy's request? It was very, very late—certainly not story time. But the imploring look on the child's face made it hard to refuse.

Cutting through his thoughts, Adonis insisted eagerly:

"Yes! I heard Vincent say it earlier! And he said you used to be a hero! So you must have tons of stories, right?"

"Come on, you might even get lucky and put him to sleep!" Vincent encouraged with a grin.

Having received paternal approval, the former SOLDIER asked:

"So… what kind of story would you like?"

Adonis knew he had won this battle. His eyes gleamed with excitement as he exclaimed enthusiastically:

"A super adventure! Where you save people from a terrible monster! And it breathes fire and is really, really dangerous!"

An adventure where he saved people from a potentially dangerous fire-breathing monster. The warrior furrowed his brow and dove into his memory. Yes, there was one mission that immediately came to mind:

"What are you doing here, "cat eyes"? Don't tell me you're here for this mission too? I was supposed to be the only one with First Class Sephiroth!"

The resurgence of this memory brought a sad smile to his face. She must have been the only one in all of Midgar who ignored his appearance. And he had loved that. Like him, the young woman seemed to hate the notoriety surrounding him—a fame he had never chosen. Later, she even knew how to make him forget all that, and that's how he fell in love with her.

Trying not to get lost in his memories, Sephiroth focused on his son. It was a perfect story, and the little one would surely be delighted to hear about his mother. But could he tell it without his emotions betraying him? He knew diving back into those memories would be difficult, but he wanted to give Adonis this moment of closeness, even if it meant facing the emotions he had long buried.

Thinking only of pleasing the child, who was hanging on his every word, he decided:

"Would you like a story where your mom was there too?"

"Oh! With mom! Oh yes! Oh yes, please! You did missions with mom? Grandma often told me about mom's missions, but you were never in them!" Adonis exclaimed excitedly.

"Surprising," Sephiroth thought ironically.

"Can Choco sit on you while you tell the story, is that okay?" The boy had climbed down from his chair, bouncing his stuffed animal on Sephiroth's knees.

"Well, I… yes…"

"Great! But I have to sit with him, or Choco gets scared!"

Adonis's clever way of climbing onto his lap made Vincent smile. Surely, this cheeky side came from his mother.

The poor warrior, utterly lost, soon found the child nestled on his knees. A long silver lock tickled his arm, making him laugh:

"Hey! Your hair tickles! Why do you have hair like that? It's girls who have such long hair!" Adonis remarked with disarming innocence.

Vincent couldn't help but smile at his grandson's candor. A frankness that was quite destabilizing for Sephiroth, who didn't know how to respond.

"I have long hair too!" the ex-TURK finally interjected to help his son.

"Well, yours is shorter than his! And you look like a girl too! Mom had short hair, but she did it on purpose! To fight the bad guys of Shinra!"

"Did your grandmother tell you that?" the warrior inquired.

"Yes! She said mom was super brave! That she was a hero and thanks to her, AVALANCHE could destroy Midgar's reactors!"

Okay. A spy. During a conversation with that scientist at the Junon lab, he had understood that Théïa was actually a member of an anti-Shinra group, but he hadn't grasped all the details. At the time, he suspected there was more than just money behind her deceit. However, he never sought to learn more. He never wanted to know more. When he discovered she wasn't a man, he already liked her enough not to want to lose another friend. And later…

Noticing the young man's frown, Vincent asked:

"She hid it from you, didn't she?"

Sephiroth nodded, and his father explained:

"Through her mother's contacts, your companion joined an anti-Shinra group, AVALANCHE. She was tasked with infiltrating SOLDIER to be at the heart of Shinra. This way, she accessed the reactor plans. It took them years to devise their plan, but it led to the explosion of two Midgar reactors almost a year ago…"

A short silence followed, lasting only a few seconds before the child grew impatient:

"Okay, where's my story!"

"We'll talk about it later. I'll leave you two alone now..."

"Wait! Where are you going?" his son stopped him, a flicker of panic crossing his green eyes.

"To bed," Vincent explained naturally.

"What? But..."

"You've defeated thousands of monsters on your own. Putting this little one to sleep shouldn't be too difficult," he finished with a smile. "Goodnight, you two..."

"Goodnight, Vinceeennnt!"

In no time, the warrior found himself alone, facing the most unpredictable enemy he had ever encountered: a five-year-old child!

He had set aside his military uniform, opting instead for a black hooded sweatshirt and cotton trousers. The little one, comfortably nestled against his hoodie, was tugging at the hood's drawstring like a bell rope. A mischievous smile played on the boy's lips, heralding a series of questions and surprises for the now-trapped warrior.

"You'll tell it, right?" the boy prompted.

Taking a deep breath, Sephiroth began the story of his mission in a calm and measured voice, immediately captivating his young listener. However, within two minutes, he was interrupted by the first question:

"Why was there a dragon in Kalm?"

Patiently, he explained that monsters, in search of prey, sometimes ventured too close to towns. He continued, but after another four minutes, another question arose:

"But why did you tell mom that you weren't really you?"

With great tact, he managed to provide a coherent reason for his behavior that day. He resumed, but another question quickly followed:

"And how big was the dragon?"

Then another:

"And what was your weapon?"

And yet another:

"Did you have any Materia?"

After a good half-hour of recurring interruptions, Sephiroth had to admit that his patience, usually quite commendable, was beginning to wane. Fortunately for him, the questions gradually became less frequent until the child fell silent.

A few dozen minutes later, Sephiroth felt Adonis slowly drift off to sleep. The child's tiny fingers were entwined in a long lock of hair, twisting and wrapping it without stopping. This habit reminded Sephiroth of his mother when he had the joy of snuggling against her and feeling her fall asleep in his arms.

With infinite care not to wake him, Sephiroth gently adjusted the sleeping child on his knees. His gaze fell on his son's serene face, and an infinite tenderness filled his heart, bringing him indescribable warmth and happiness. At that moment, the outline of a "normal" life—a life he had always secretly desired—began to take shape for him. He remained there, motionless, basking in the warmth of the moment, savoring the calm and tranquility that enveloped the room.

Observing closely, the ex-SOLDIER noticed a tiny detail on this little face that he didn't get from him: very light freckles, almost imperceptible, on the tops of his cheeks. He had inherited them from his mother.

A heavy sigh of regret escaped the young father as a wave of despair washed over him. If only everything had been different. If only he had trusted her. If only he had confessed his feelings. Their fates would have been so different. If only he had left Shinra, as he had wished before that cursed mission.

Once, as a First Class SOLDIER, he had a more than comfortable income. Unlike his flamboyant-haired best friend, he wasn't a spender, and money had never been a concern for him. Every month, Shinra paid him a generous salary, supplemented by substantial bonuses for participating in special operations. Thus, his bank account had seen its balance accumulate over the years. They could have lived comfortably for a while if he had chosen to leave Shinra and run away with her. But would she have accepted? From what he had gathered, the young woman had been deeply involved in her role within the organization. Without explicitly lying, she had still hidden the truth from him. Maybe, deep down, she had longed for a normal life, as she often described to him. Faced with the little "game" she had invented, he couldn't resist…

"Close your eyes, and imagine you are someone ordinary…"

Still holding his sleeping son close, the warrior closed his eyes and lovingly, nostalgically remembered the perfectly charming way Théïa had won his heart...


End of Chapter