Chapter 9:

Réponds à ma tendresse

Si je m'arrête un instant
Pour te parler de ma vie
Juste comme ça tranquillement
J'te raconterai les souvenirs
Bien gravé dans ma mémoire

-Les étoiles filantes, Les cowboys fringants

"Welcome home."

I held onto those words as I lay in a pool of memories and consciousness I could never tap into. I was alone, and the feeling was hollow—not as painful as it once had been as a child—a faint memory. Memories flowed through me like a sieve. I tried to grasp at the abstract nature of it all, but a sense of abulia took hold, and I collapsed within myself—alone, again. I held to his hair, tickling my fingertips as it escaped me. I tried to scream, but the Lifestream filled my lungs and mouth, suffocating any further will.

"Close your eyes," he instructed, bare fingertips tracing sweet nothings over my eyelids. "Tell me what you see."

"I can see," I communicated solely on thought, "I can see darkness."

"Follow me through it." He was kind and patient as I tentatively reached for his wrist. He grabbed me, and we interlaced our fingers; he was now a child to me.

"I will follow you," I conceded, the darkness becoming sterile and grey. We were in his cell; he collapsed into his cot, his hand circling around the spot beside him—he was inviting me to share in this moment. He lifted his shirt and pulled up his sleeve, thick tubing lining his limb and torso. He let out a sigh as he pulled at it, trying to tear it through flesh. They had done this to him—he did this to him.

"Why are you showing me this?" I whimpered, retreating away from the sight, looking elsewhere. I knew empathy was my downfall.

He smiled. "Where are you?"

"What are you talking about? I'm right... here." I was alone now, in a cell, holding my pillow to my chest. I looked through the open door, something telling me that I was forbidden to move forward, and peered through the open crack of his cell across the hallway. He wasn't in the cell beside me. There was no storytelling through the vents. I swallowed the lump in my throat. I wanted to scream and reach out to the child prodded by the scientists collecting at his door. I knew he was alone.

"Please, Sephiroth, stop. Let me hold you." I began crying, a realization deeply settling. I refused. I snuck by, entered his cell across the hallway, and crawled into his cot, curling around his form, my rounded form cushioning his tiny frame. He was so tiny back then.

"It's okay," he whispered, his body weak in my caress, "you'll see how much I mean to you." Yes, he meant more than the world to me. He encompassed something beyond.

I gathered him even tighter, resting my chin on his head, occasionally nestling my nose in his hair. "Never leave me," I called to him. His form was suddenly replaced by his pillow. It smelled like him. It was still warm. I closed my eyes; I knew what I had to do. I needed to make certain that I would never be alone again. I knew how to do that. The mother we never truly had—Jenova. I held onto her tighter as I fell into Hojo's lap. Hojo smiled as I lounged in his specimen chair, tracing a pick on my cheekbone. He pushed the pick through my tear duct, a large syringe needle following. Behind my eye, forever seen, were Jenova cells. I was never to be alone again. I would have her and her powers; I would never be alone in her grace. And maybe, finally, I would be seen by him.

"You've made a grave mistake," he whispered, warmth trickling down and tightening my spine. He reached for my hand, lifting me from the chair—so gentle.

"I did. I'm sorry." I latched onto his shirt; he was wearing the same shirt as that night—the night of my graduation. I began crying, hiding my head in shame and disgrace. I never became powerful. But I was never alone. Her voice would accompany me in the most inopportune time. He followed me to the ends of the Gaia. I wasn't alone. Sometimes I wondered how much of a mistake I had committed.

He held my hands and drove them to my face, cupping my soft, tear-ridden face. "No matter what sins you have committed, you still genuflect to the altar you have created for me."

"You mean the world to me."

"I know, I know." He walked to a piano manifesting in the mirrored walls of Shin-Ra HQ Tower. The evening lights twinkled against the polished walls and floors, cascading over the black surface of the piano. He lifted the fallboard and adjusted his wrists at the keys, genuflecting at the altar he created for me. He played a song. Our song.

I sat beside him. "I used to love this piece. You wrote it for me on my birthday; you had no idea what to get me. That was before... " I trailed off, a sour taste in my mouth.

"Before I left for Wutai. I changed."

"You did," I agreed, the sour taste amplifying.

"But this is not your song." I could feel him smiling, the feeling lingering on my spine, a pit forming in my stomach.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't deserve this song," he continued. The song was swelling and crashing at my feet. He was becoming a master at playing—playing at the keys that knocked against strings, producing a hollow scream.

I collapsed on the floor, the piano and mirrored walls disappearing, leaving nothing but darkness. I called out to him, wanting nothing more than answers, but received nothing but emptiness. Yes. I was beginning to understand now. I was beginning to understand how cruel he was. And yet, the altar remained. I kneeled, hands laying on my lap. Mom taught me how to pray once. My father hated how good I became at it; I would pray every night with Kathelyn for our mother to return to us. Father would scoff, slamming the bottle in his hand on the kitchen table. He never dared to say she was gone forever, something I realized on my own as a captive of Shin-Ra. That's where I met him. Captivating. He entertained my whims. He entertained the very nature of having a mother. He hated me.

I swallowed. "I know now you just want to hurt me."

"Never, Helena. I want you to see finally." His hands trailed from my shoulders to my wrists, crossing them on my chest like the dead. His chin rested on the nook of my neck; he was firmly pressed against my back—he made his presence known.

"I don't want to. I won't... I can't."

"I mean too much to you."

"Yes," I fell into his embrace, "I would do anything for you."

"Summon Meteor for me, then. Show me how much I mean to you."

I snapped around, the words compelling and just. I studied him. He was being truthful. "I can't. You can't make me."

"You're right. I can't make you. But you will ultimately summon Meteor; for that, I am certain."

"You're a liar. Cruel, cruel liar."

He smirked. "Is what you experience love or obsession? I wonder."

"You're so fucking cruel."

He approached closer, lips pressed against my forehead, whispering the darkest of thoughts: "You'll join me in the Lifestream, like every soul; you'll be mine. Forever."

He breathed life into my frozen body. I wanted nothing more.

Somewhere in the snowy fields, Kathelyn was searching for me—Jofrey following. Something deep down wanted for me to be found and saved from this hell I had created for myself, Sephiroth dangling paradise before me, a paradise I would never find elsewhere. I remembered the warmth of Kathelyn's hug as I was hugged in every fibre of my being by the cold Lifestream. Was his hug just as warm? Or was it solid and immovable—hollow and unkind?

"You've come a long way from being our meat shield," Kathelyn chuckled.

"What? That's all I was to you guys." Jofrey snapped his tongue behind his buck teeth. "Should've known. I bet you it was Helena's idea."

Kathelyn sobered at the mention of her sister. "We need to find her," she began hiccuping, tears streaming down her reddened cheeks.

It was too much for Jofrey to see; a hole in his heart seemed to grow. "We'll find her," he held Kathelyn close to his chest, patting her on the back. "I promise, we'll find her."

"Why? Why are you trying to help us?"

"I had... have a brother who is a bit of a lost cause. He kind of reminds me of Helena. He got into some trouble recently, and I've been sending money to help him out. I miss the boy he was. He was a good kid. Just really got the short end of many sticks. I still love him, you know. I want to save him."

Kathelyn said nothing for some time. "I didn't know," she finally broke the silence.

Jofrey shrugged. "The more I hung around you guys, the more I sympathized. We have our job cut out for us, I must admit, but we'll figure something out. Sephiroth has got nothing on us!" Jofrey's arm snapped upwards, his fist pumping the air.

Kathelyn laughed, drying her face. "You're truly a good person, Jofrey. We can save her." She reached for his hand, giving a tight squeeze.

"Come, follow me." And so I followed him in the dark to a small clearing in the near distance. Suddenly, the dark void was filled with life—breaths of greenery, flushed blossoms, and warm grass waving in the calm breeze. I reached for him, a few paces in front of me, as he continued down the field to a combled building. It was barely standing on its own, ravaged by some disaster I would rather not think about. He looked over his shoulder, feeling the brief touch of my finger tips, and smiled. I felt warm in the spring heat.

"Do you recognize where you are?" He pulled me forward, adjusting my line of sight forcefully. He took my head between two palms as I attempted to shy away from the horror that had befallen the barn. "Look at what you've done."

"Please, you're hurting me." I wasn't speaking on the forcefulness of his hands directing me but rather the psychological scarring that was manifesting—opening old wounds that I thought I drank away years ago. No amount of tequila or Tranquilizers could suppress the coughing that echoed in my empty apartment. I swear I could hear her calling me between the vents of every room I found myself in. I felt like I was suffocating, my breath escaping in gasps. She suffocated on her own saliva, my father once told me.

He released me, but my eyes were transfixed on the fire that consumed the barn; I knew I was to blame. I knew what he was showing me. I killed her. I killed my mother. His hands trailed from the sides of my face, down my throat to my shoulders. Fingers began to dig into my trapezius muscles, thumbs digging into my shoulder blades. "And so, your story begins here. A loss. A grieving child. A scar too deep to fix, no matter how hard you tried. A split in your world."

"If only she had lived," I whispered mostly to myself.

"Yes. What would have happened then? Would she have stayed? Would she have raised you like a child that needed her? How would you have been then?"

I chuckled sardonically, biting the insides of my cheeks. "What are you trying to say?"

He spun me slowly, a waltz as I stepped away. "I wonder what kind of world it would have been if she lived. Are you at least a little curious?"

The warm field turned into a cold room. Carpet torn from the ground, sinking ceiling, and bottles outlining the sides of a bed—I oddly felt at home. I could hear a phone ringing in my vicinity, echoing against the peeling walls. "Well, are you going to answer it?" Sephiroth said, pointing to the cell phone amongst the empty bottles. Anxiously, I reached for it, hoping the ringing would cease before I could pick it up. I was drawn to the lettering on the screen: "Mom."

"Hello?" My voice waivered.

"Sweetie! Did I wake you?" A familiar voice... My throat snapped shut, air sucked out of my lungs, and my diaphragm hitched in my ribcage.

"Hey, mom. Yeah, it was a rough night yesterday. I had to complete a series of dissections." The sound emanated from somewhere foreign. I wanted so much to cry out and swallow every word that kissed the receiver.

"Oh, your fave! I was hoping we could meet up for brunch tomorrow. I'll be in town with Kathelyn. Just us girls." Yes! Yes, please!

"I've… got a lot of work this weekend." What? How could you...?

"Oh. Well, we can do it another time." She sounded so heartbroken. I broke her... Again.
"Sorry mom. Just got a lot going on."

"Have you been drinking again?" Mother had always been so perceptive and soft. The words were not mine. I looked to the shadowy figure that stood in the corner of the room, observing and taking note. I begged for this to stop with tears welling, words no longer my own. I was captive to this all. Like the bottles that seemed to continue piling around me.

"Mom, please, don't." No, mom, please do!

"All I'm saying is that when you drink, you isolate. Your sister told me you were under a lot of stress."

"Of course she would know. The woman breathes down my neck! The only time I see her is when I'm not doing enough, not being productive enough! You know what? I'm not having this conversation with you. If Kathelyn wants to patch things up, she can call." Kathelyn, please! Save me!

"She made a mistake by leaving after high school. Leaving you alone after dad left. I know I made a mistake. I'm not looking for forgiveness, but we are trying, Helena. We're just asking for you to try too."

"Right, mom. I'm busy this weekend."

"I love you, Helena."

"Okay." The horror ended when I heard a solitary click and beeping in the cell phone.

"What have you done!?" I threw the phone to the ground and took fistfuls of his hair. He observed as I collapsed onto the ground, bottles consuming my shrinking body—vanishing into a dark void.

"You see now? This is a world where she lived and chose to abandon you. Built to please, you navigated Shin-Ra with a backbone thickened by a lack of praise from the only person that mattered who seemed to be at least somewhat present: Kathelyn. You knew then that every person is nothing but echoes in your daily grind to perfection. You'd never achieve it, though." He laughed.

"I don't want to see anymore. Please," I begged, my knees bleeding from the force of kneeling on broken glass.

He knelt with me, fingers tracing my jugular, then settled on my chin, raising it up so our eyes met. He needed me to focus, so I did—for an old friend. "I can save you."

"Please," I said, finally cupping his cheeks between two palms. "Take me away from here."

"I can take you to another world. And you can finally find peace."

A/N: The end of this part is almost in sight! I would love to hear from you what you think... I feel like I'm kinda posting in the void - which is cool but also not.

I recommend looking up Les cowboys fringants - they're cool!