Part I
The boy heard the moon cry in desperate pale yellow
hues, whispering ever so faintly against an ebony sky.
Shadows cackled wildly, playing with dim ceiling
lights as they loomed quietly above a scarlet trail
dotting the cold floor. A pale face leaned toward the
thick liquid, smiling unsteadily as his white fingers
swam in the red pool.
/Melted roses, melted roses.../
He softly hummed as he let his fingers soak within
that thick fluid, his eyes glazed with deranged
wonder. He let his hand rest for a moment, glancing at
his cream arm with curious emerald eyes. A thick
puncture at the center of his forearm spilled with
those melted rose petals, tiny red drops embracing a
red rivulet.
/Melted roses, melted roses...pretty smelling melted
roses.../
Musty clouds of sweat and death, sweet they were to
inhale. Yes, that's how roses smelt, didn't they? The
boy had wondered how a rose looked like; he had heard
they were drops of red sown in intricate shades...that
scores of men had taken a mere whiff of the scent only
to come away with a wild happiness, something
beautifully incommunicable. Men had sought to find the
words, their lips only falling numb, finding nothing
to say at all. And these florid rivers were
roses--just melted, melted, melted.
No, but the little boy could describe how they felt
like pushing against the skin; he could describe it's
odor. It smelt of hard metal-- a dying, dying river it
was.
/No, melted roses. These are melted roses!!/
But they matted his hair in wet slaps of red, his
clothes in tangles of red, his skin in deep red
circles...
He recalled a poem about roses, tucked beneath a heavy
pile of dusty books in the library.
/Shhh...It's a secret./
In a soft whisper, his lips slowly parted to echo the
words of the poem, hoping that perhaps somewhere in
that lonely world, someone would hear and come to him.
//My beloved 'crecia,
Deeper than the bloom of a rose
Crooning against a solemn shadow.
There is you.
-Vinc//
The paper had laid in a crumbled mess against the cold
wooden shelf; there were shreds of that salvaged
memory lying lonely in a dusty corner on the floor,
but the boy didn't dare search for the words written
on those scraps.
It was a pretty poem, and the boy lazily smiled at its
memory, hugging his crimson-soaked body around the
mess of cloths hanging limply at his knees. He
wondered who it was for, what those words truly meant.
They were written earnestly in solitude, where the
mind wandered through the dark corridors of the soul,
searching for a certain shred of something long lost--
to try to smile, to hope to possess the *strength* to
smile. But to the boy, it was just a very pretty poem
to accompany his reverie of swimming in melted rose
petals.
His mind felt lighter now, the curtains of his eyes
remaining wide open but the sky beyond the window
dimming to a lonely black...dimming and dimming. He
last heard the moon's strong cry bellowing before his
dimming, dimming eyes.
"Don't cry moon! Stop it!" the boy huskily wept.
"Sing moon, sing. See the melted roses? See them?" But
he couldn't see them then, and he grasped the final
moan of the moon, for one silent moment before he
slept.
***
"Insolent beast, what the hell did you do!" the man
seethed, oily black strands sticking tenaciously in
massive clumps against his wrinkled white face.
"R-roses?" the boy mumbled weakly.
"Sephiroth, there are no roses here."
"N-no there are-,"he protested weakly.
"None. I assure you, there are NONE."
"N-no but there are. They're melted, see?," he
motioned to a red stream flowing down his white arm.
"That's blood, you fool. B-l-o-o-d."
"NO! They're roses," he wept slowly, his eyes glazed
firmly to that rivulet.
"Sephiroth, there are no roses here," the scientist
paused. "Now here, We have to make you strong."
"Hojo?"
"Yes?" he grumbled in frustration.
"I'll be stronger than the world, right?"
"Mmhm."
"Then, can I smell roses? Not melted ones."
"You can do whatever you want,"Hojo mumbled, pouring
blue liquids in a vile.
"Really?"
"Yes, now shut up," he growled, as he clasped the
flickering needle, pushing it firmly in Sephiroth's
forearm.
"When?"
"When you're ready." The last drop of the vile fused
coldly with Sephiroth's blood.
"I want to know when," the boy persisted.
"Shut up or you'll never see your damn roses."
"Oh. All right."
The boy's green eyes flickered for a moment towards
the glass containers coldly lying atop the steel
counter. A distinct silver sparkle shined seductively
at the edge of the table, winking as it had towards so
many desolate, desperate men, seeking refuge from
their gray empty lives they had endured for so long.
The little boy had seen it happen, see men sob in
broken tears, their fingernails furiously gnawing at
their glass enclosures hopelessly, their eyes
shimmering as if a clear ice sheeted them, a deranged,
desperate stare peering in the distance. They would
cry, crashing with a whirl of glass shards piercing
their hard skin as they poured melted roses all along
the floor. Their hands would search for a clean silver
slice to the chest, and they would smile...The boy was
thankful that so many men were willing to offer melted
roses for *him*, to tug a smile on his eager lips.
Sephiroth had seen plenty of melted roses drenching
the floor...slippery melted roses. Hojo would curse
slowly under his breath, scolding the cold corpses for
their blunt stupidity. And the boy would swim in the
bed of melted roses, Hojo reprimanding him, wearing a
smug, disgusted expression along his face.
"What's the silver for, Hojo?"
"Silver? What the hell are you talking about, fool."
Sephiroth simply pointed towards a fresh silver knife
at the corner of the table, his eyes darting to Hojo's
mysterious smirk.
"That..that's for tomorrow."
"What's going to happen?"
"Nothing you will understand. Just know that you will
be stronger."
"Oh."
"And you'll like it, won't you."
Silence.
"*Won't* you,"Hojo laughed unsteadily, his eyes glazed
in a nightmare far, far away.
"Yes, Hojo."
"Good. Now stay here. I have...other things to attend
to."
"Bring some melted roses for me."
"Oh God no, you sick boy,"Hojo whispered in disgust,
slowly shutting the steel door behind him.
The boy leaned against a gray wall, his emerald eyes
staring solemnly through a small window hanging like a
solid picture frame about the door. He looked beyond
the window for several moments watching a sea of white
coats swishing along, their feet gliding against the
floor in long strides. He wondered how their faces
looked beneath the heavy goggles shielding their
eyes--Were they smiling, crying,....or did they wish
they could sob but couldn't muster the water to make
it *look* genuine. The boy stood, his eyes remaining
motionless against the cold humming of ceiling lights
playing above his hair. He liked the warm touch of
light bouncing onto his skin.
And he wondered how the sun felt like; he imagined it
to be a grand mass of gold spilling something
beautiful for all of mankind to grasp, a ray of dreams
which inspired the cold and helpless to think that
there was something there, some sliver of hope in the
distance, that dreams did come true.
/Dreams?/
Sephiroth never saw cotton masses of white floating
carelessly through a morning sky, never saw the sun
strongly pounding in laughing rays, roses scattered
about for him to smell. Non-melted roses, that is.
He had grown tired of melted roses...
He wondered how a dream felt against that somber
silent melody that drooped like heavy coats against
his bruised shoulders; every night that melody came
and he closed his eyes, simply sleeping with, speaking
with that nothing, wondering if one day he could
stretch his arms beneath the morning sun and dream of
the roses scrawled on that poem, smiles...* anything.
*
He wondered if he knew how to hope.
The door shifted softly, and a silent man entered the
doorway. His hair was a thick dark brown, his eyes a
soft sad gray against the ceiling light beams bouncing
in the hard laboratory air.
"Sephiroth?" he questioned softly.
"Professor Gast?" the boy slowly mouthed.
"Yes, Sephiroth...look, you're going to be free, boy."
"What,"Sephiroth narrowed his eyes curiously, intently
awaiting for a sort of explanation.
"You're going to see the world Sephiroth. They have no
right to trap you in here, you understand? We're
getting out," he spoke firmly, still whispering.
"So I can see roses?"
"Yea."
"The sun?" "Yea, you'll see all of that,"Gast's eyes
widened softly, his eye brows shifting in a comforting
expression of regret and hope.
"When, Mister Gast?"
"I'll come to your cell tonight, okay? And then we'll
be out of this hell hole, all right?"
"Okay Mister Gast,"Sephiroth smiled slightly. The man
leaned towards the boy, his arms slightly stretched as
if to embrace him, but as his gray eyes fell upon his
tanned hands, he stopped, nodding slowly with a smile
as he walked away. He has forgotten that they were
cold with metal, and that all his life, his mind had
searched for reason where there was none--that this
little boy was worth more than what he had to offer.
It was his fault that the boy never felt a cool spring
breeze, never laughed; his silence spoke more wrong
than any words could have, and nothing could take it
back. Nothing.
The man whispered a solemn, "I'm sorry." But he knew
that the word had lost its meaning long ago, when man
had used its power as an innate reflex to sin...as if
it could wash it all away, that everything was
forgiven and gone from that single word. It was still
there, rooting itself to the tormented depths of the
soul, never to shift, until the heart was forgotten,
until the light in his eyes, his mind had failed.
But he wouldn't be weak now...No, not until that boy
had seen the sun. He wouldn't fall until that boy had
seen it, not until the boy had felt a dream.
And he couldn't be a coward for her. She wouldn't let
him be a meek, vain scientist anyway. Gast grinned
slightly in a sad sort of pride for his love as he
whispered "Ifalna", the sounds of his footsteps dying
against the dark hallways of the lab.
***
"Sephiroth."
A pause.
"Sephi-?"
"Gast?"the boy's restless eyes came upon a thin blade
of light flickering from the door.
"Come here. We're leaving."
"Okay." The boy shuffled a bit carelessly through the
mess of syringes and needles on the floor.
"*Quietly.*"
The boy said nothing, continuing to walk through the
mess of fallen laboratory equipment in his path. As
his eyes wandered through the open crevice of the
door, he saw a woman. Her eyes shined in a
compassionate green, her brown hair flowing endlessly
down her back. He had seen her before among the
specimens trapped in glass tube enclosures. But she
didn't pound against the glass wall; she simply stood
still, her head propped up in dignity, a faint watery
web sown in her eyes. The boy thought he liked her.
She seemed so sadly happy if anything could be said of
her eyes.
The woman's white hands clasped Sephiroth's shoulder
as she replied in a soft voice, "I'm Ifalna."
Sephiroth turned to Gast slowly speaking, "She's a
nice lady, Gast."
"Why yes she is Sephiroth," he paused for a moment.
"We should be going now."
"Of course," Ifalna replied calmly. She motioned
towards Sephiroth gently speaking," Here, hold my
hand, Sephiroth."
The boy wavered for a moment, but hesitantly touched
the white hand, soaking in seas of warmth from that
single motion. He liked warm things.
"Let's go...hurry, hurry m'love." Gast quickly
whispered, his legs gliding through the halls in
unusual stealth. He searched through his deep pockets
for a certain plastic card, his lips slowly echoing an
"Ah" as his hands clasped it.
"There's an exit through this room,"Gast spoke, a
nervous sweat developing upon his clammy forehead. He
inserted his card through a metal slit at the door,
quietly and quickly opening it. The room was quite
small, a bed hugging the left corner, a modest sized
desk and pile of papers pushed against right, a tiny
window overlooking it all as a picture frame. Gast
quickly gestured to a poster; it was an advertisement,
a picture of man with deep gold eyes at the center.
Gast's heart pounded wildly as he gently lifted the
poster away, again motioning for the two to follow. A
faint clatter echoed in a nearby room, and Gast simply
froze, his eyes widening in apprehension, sweaty beads
continuing to mat his sticky face. He couldn't fail
them now, no not when for once in his life he thought
that there was some good within him, something vaguely
close to bravery. He had never felt that before, for
everyday he would simply bow his head submissively to
his betters, his mute lips pounding with something to
say...to scream against the blood spilling on the
floor, but falling numb in silence. But now, he would
speak, paint something white over the blackened mess
called his heart.
"T-this has to work," he huskily whispered, carefully
tugging the poster away from the wall. A dark
emptiness loomed beneath the bulky sheet, and Gast
held his hand in a cautious gesture to follow. Ifalna
and Sephiroth walked slowly, their hands intertwined
tightly, their feet solemnly following the sound of
the professor's footsteps. Gast moved his foot about,
searching for another step below... and below that.
The stairway was steep, and it felt as they were
falling into some sort of dark, unknown abyss with
each hesitant step.
Finally, there were no more stairs scaling below. A
beaten wooden door stood, black traces of rot
scattered about its edges. Gast slowly opened the
door. His heart didn't pound quite as much now, and at
the moment, he thought they would make it and be all
right. He stared at the silent form of Sephiroth, his
hand now loosely laced with Ifalna's own.
The child walked, allowing his hand to trail away from
the kind woman. The sky was draped in black, and tiny
white tears danced about, winking happily with soft
white lights rolling over the earth. Sephiroth had
never actually felt the sky, the earth's air. Perhaps
on lonely days through a window he gazed at the
wondrous things outside, but he had never stood there,
felt fresh air boldly seeping in his lungs, seen
something so endless.
The plains rolled forever, the sky stretched forever,
the wind sang forever....And he was *there.* He could
see it, stretch his arms and embrace it, and maybe he
could dream--for tonight, for tomorrow, forever.
An arm tugged his shoulder to move forward, and he
continued to walk, his green eyes still engrossed in
his living dream.
They walked for sometime, hunching beneath the sparse
scatters of forestry in the area, but soon felt their
muscles tense and weary from the journey. They managed
to hitch a ride from a kind man, strands of frost
aging his red hair. He was heading for Kalm, to haul
back a supply of materia he had said. The ride wasn't
quite so pleasant; the pungent fumes of the vehicle
caused Professor Gast to edge towards the side of the
truck to graciously hurl back the lunch he had eaten
earlier that day. Ifalna nodded her head, laughing
softly while gently letting her hand rest upon
Sephiroth's own.
They had arrived at Kalm without any serious quandary,
and searched for an inn to rest their tired, heavy
eyes. Sephiroth smiled slightly at the sight of the
quaint town. Amber lights hummed gently from the
cottages of Kalm, spilling upon the streets that quiet
night. His eyes were a green sea that night, washing
in awe against the earth's landscape, against the kind
faces that had laughed along the way. It was so
sudden, so different to see everyone so happy for once
in his life.
Their inn room was modest in size, two fluffy beds
resting against the edge of one wall, a large window
peeking at the new found world. Sephiroth walked over
to the wooden floor and rested his head against the
hard planks, his eyes closing to a strangely peaceful
slumber. Gast smiled sadly, nudging the boy gently.
"There's a bed over there, you know."
Silence.
"Sephiroth?"
"Dear, I think he's asleep," Ifalna giggled softly.
"Here, I'll pick him up and put him in bed," Gast
replied, carefully lifting the boy to gently place him
in the soft cotton sheets of the bed.
He looked back at Ifalna anxiously," Are you all
right?"
"Yes, yes...Don't worry about me."
"How's she...or err he?"
"He-she? Well I think he-she's doin' just fine," she
smiled warmly while glancing at her slightly swollen
stomach, rubbing it compassionately.
"I hope the baby'll be all right. I hope *you'll* be
okay. I hope it'll all be okay."
"It will, dear, it will," she reassured her love with
proud eyes.
"D-do you think Sephiroth should live with us...Will
it be-"
"I don't know dear. He deserves a new start, with
someone who isn't on the run."
"Yea. He does."
"Poor dear," Ifalna sadly gazed at the child.
"Ifalna, I think they'll be searching soon."
"I know. But where should we go?" she looked around
helplessly.
"We'll catch a plane, somewhere. Or a boat."
"Where though?"
"Somewhere away...Nibelheim, Gongaga? We'll leave
Sephiroth there. "
"Okay, but then us-"
"We'll have to go somewhere farther away," he spoke
pensively, "Somewhere in the northern continent."
"All right, dear. It'll be all right. The planet can
hear our pain...they can hear it. And they'll do
something." She paused. "We better get some sleep now.
We may never get this again."
"I know. G'night love," he said slowly while reaching
for the white blankets tangled messily about the bed.
Ifalna nodded, lying beside Gast, her eyes flickering
with worry before the blinds closed and she dreamt.
***
The morning sun spun about through the sliced blinds
of the window, dancing and humming softly onto the
child's skin. Sephiroth felt a warm hand move against
his shoulder, gently shaking him to awake. He slowly
opened his green eyes, murmuring, "W-what?"
"We're leaving,"a kind woman spoke. Sephiroth
recognized her; she was that pretty woman with soft
eyes and bouncing brown hair. The boy nodded his head
following the hurried woman and scientist.
It was scarcely dawn outside, the golden sun just
shimmering in it's initial soft yellow rays. The sky
was a myriad of purple, orange, and pinks, the yellows
growing stronger as time willed itself to the day.
Sephiroth gazed at it once more, softly smiling as
Ifalna gently tugged him to follow. They trudged along
and approached a small steel building. Gast hurried
inside and started chatting quickly to a middle-aged
man, silver strokes painted softly against the man's
black hair.
"Yea. We gotta plane to...,"he glanced at a paper,
"Nibelheim."
"Okay, that's fine. Can we leave now?" Gast replied
firmly.
"In a such a hurry, eh? Well, I guess I can manage
that, ya know? Well, hurry on in,"the pilot grinned
widely. The four scurried into the small rusted plane,
leaning against the torn passenger seats. Bursts of
white cotton plumped from the rips and Sephiroth
examined them curiously with his pale white fingers.
"What are these?"
"Cotton, Sephiroth...Now, rest. It won't take long to
leav-"
"Holy shit!"the pilot stared agape beyond the front
window. A loud ring pounded against the steel plates
of the plane as blue clad soldiers poured in like
monstrous waves.
"Damn, what luck. Get stuck with a buncha freakin'
Shrina fugitives...wait lemme guess? You're all con
men err con people. Ya see, you're not really a
scientist but a cold blooded ax murderer and-"
/Pang/
"Damn!" The pilot scowled as a thick crimson blot
punctured his forearm. Gast stood still, his face
white with shock, glazed at the scarlet mark on the
man's arm.
"Why dontcha go to hell you Shinra scum!" the pilot
seethed in rage, clasping the handle and lifting the
plane above the sky. "Why the hell do I have to be so
soft," he mumbled, as the plane lifted higher and
higher above the ground, until all they could see were
white puffs dancing in the air.
Sephiroth said nothing but merely glared at the man's
arm and whispered sullenly, "Melted roses."
***
No one spoke for quite a while. Ifalna simply pondered
on something beyond the thoughts of people,
materials...Sephiroth glared at the white cotton
protruding from the rip on his seat and back to the
wound on the pilot's arm. Gast cried quietly mumbling
if he failed while he rocked back and forth against
his knees. The pilot said nothing, but continuously
twitched his eyebrow at Gast's every sob.
"Dammit stop crying wuss! They're gone! They've been
gone for over an hour!"he suddenly yelled.
"W-what?"
"They're gone!"
"She's alive...the boy, is h-he?"
"Yea, your whole freaky family is alive bub."
Gast nodded slowly, an unsteady smile gracing his
lips.
"I know my sins can't be forgiven, but at least I've
done something. Who knew, who knew," he laughed
softly, his smile broadening against his face.
The pilot arched an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly,
"I'm not gonna even ask."
Beyond the view of the window, mountains yawned
against the morning sun, and one could vaguely see a
small quaint town at the edge. The plane gradually
lowered itself against green plains nearby and slowly
the three descended down the steel bird, profusely
thanking the pilot for his time. The pilot nodded
quickly, cursing about being far too nice while flying
away into the endless sky once more.
Gast shuddered for a moment. The wind suddenly felt
like ice, and a familiar chill sliced through the
webbed sins looming in the dark depths of his heart.
He swallowed hard. "This is where it all started," he
spoke slowly while walking in soft strides to the
small town.
Sephiroth blinked curiously as he followed the woman
and man, his lips curled in a slight smile at the
town. Nibelheim looked very much like Kalm, and the
people seemed so happy and kind. No one screamed or
cried, but they slept soundly, cooked warm food. He
could smell something fresh and delicious baking from
a nearby cottage in the town, and his lips
unconsciously watered, his tongue bidding him to taste
whatever it was warmly baking in that oven.
Gast's eyes flickered about sullenly. Ifalna laid a
reassuring hand against his shoulder as he nodded
whispering, "I know someone who lives here."
"She used to work as an assistant to one of the
scientists for Shinra, you see. But...but she got
pregnant with who knows who and well, here she lives.
I gave some money to the poor woman to give her a
start again," he continued. "I wonder if she'll be
able to repay the favor." Ifalna nodded, her eyes
staring back towards the green-eyed boy knowingly. And
within the sad green shadows of her eyes, she truly
knew that this unconsciously broken boy deserved
better than a trail of uncertainty...a trail one day
white with soft sleet, the next pounding with
screaming hail stones breaking upon the ground. He
deserved to smile proudly more often, to laugh, to be
happy.
Gast uncomfortably scraped his feet against the ground
and approached the wooden door, lifting his tanned
hand to rap against it hesitantly.
No answer.
He persisted again, a bit more firmly. A woman slowly
opened a finger width of the door, her eyebrows cocked
in wonder at the man. Her gold hair was wrapped
hastily in a bun, and she rubbed a swollen part of her
abdomen gently, unsteady breaths leaving her lips. Her
eyes suddenly widened, and in a moment of recognition
she quickly opened the door fully, greeting the three
enthusiastically inside.
"Oh my! I didn't expect you here, Sir!"
"Nice to see you too Anna. You holding up okay?" Gast
stepped inside the cozy cottage.
"Yea, I guess so. This lil boy's on its way I tell
ya!" she spoke, patting her abdomen proudly.
"Oh, that's...good. Look, I-"
"*We've* got a favor to ask you, Anna," Ifalna cut in.
"Um, so what is it? I have to thank you for helping me
out Gast, Sir."
"No need to say Sir. But I..err we need you to take
care of someone."
"...who? what? I don't think I-"
Gast nudged Sephiroth forward, "His name is Sephiroth
and he needs a home...and we were wondering-"
"B-but I can't. You guys would be better off..." Anna
continued helplessly, clutching a tuft of hair from
her scalp, her breath quickening.
"It's for the best. He'll be in danger with us...so
you have to. Do you understand? You *have* to," Gast
pleaded, looking back hopelessly to his love, Ifalna.
"Um..."
"As a favor back, please," Gast whispered once more,
his eyes on the verge of watering, his voice choking.
"...all right," she quietly spoke glancing at the boy
with softened eyes.
/I-is she mad at me?/ Sephiroth looked down towards
the wooden floor, towards the warm fireplace where
embers flickered carelessly in glee. He looked up
towards the woman. She was everything and nothing like
the other woman accompanying Gast. Her eyes were a
warm blue, but they were tired, lying heavy against
the bags sagging her eyes. She looked at everything,
even the heated flames near the hearth as if she were
searching--searching for *someone* to fade away the
empty loneliness she knew day by day.
But the boy didn't know that his own eyes had
flickered in such a manner, with the desperate longing
he had all his life--like how he stared at the moon
beyond the small window at the ceiling of his room. It
was too high to grasp though, beyond anything his
feeble fingers could hope to touch...But he wanted to,
oh how he wanted to.
Anna spoke louder, "All right...he can be here."
"Thank you, thank you," Gast sighed, slowly clasping
the white hand of his love as they headed away from
the room. Ifalna held her hand solemnly gesturing a
sad farewell as they escaped through the wooden door.
Her eyes were sadly happy if anything could be said of
them at all. It was the last the boy had seen of the
two through the winds of changing faces he had
encountered in life.
Anna approached the curious boy as she lay a
comforting hand on his shoulder quietly whispering,
"Welcome home, Sephiroth Strife."
***
/Roses...melting, melting, melting, melting. Stop
melting. Stay, why don't you...stay./
"Stay," he murmured.
"Stay!" he bellowed sternly against the night air. His
eyes opened slowly against quiet night and he felt
sweat slicking his clothes in a tangled mess; he
touched his clammy forehead, coming away with that
clear liquid. He heard foot steps echo hastily on the
floor, and fear pounded behind his wide eyes.
/Don't be mad...please, don't be mad./
"Sephiroth?" a woman's voice sounded anxiously through
the wooden door as he heard it creak quietly.
"You okay, Sephiroth?"
"Fine,"he spoke curtly, his voice slightly trembling.
"You're not a very good liar, you know," the woman
smiled slightly, approaching the bed. She searched for
a while around the room and dragged a chair, seating
herself silently beside him.
"Hmmhmmmhmmm,"she started, closing her lips softly to
the tune.
"...smile and sleep beautiful boy mhmmmhmmm," she
hummed slowly beneath half parted lips.
Sephiroth shot her a questioning glance but soon fell
to that hypnotic tune as a comfortable sleep
overwhelmed him, as he smiled. Anna sat there for
sometime, gazing at the small child with wonder before
walking away surprisingly content, unconsciously
rubbing the swollen womb at her abdomen.
***
/Push, push...breathe, just breathe/
Like dew, sticky drops melted down her clammy
forehead, anxious screams and yelps running from her
tired, furious lips. Oh God, it felt like living
death.
A woman dressed in plain brown held a blanket near the
edge of the bed, whispering for the blue-eyed woman to
breathe, to relax the pulsating veins in her body.
Sephiroth huddled in a shadowed corner of the room,
scared of whatever Anna was going through, wondering
if she was going to die like everyone else... whether
she'd spill melted roses and that he'd be alone.
/I don't want to be alone./
The air smelt bittersweet, like vanillas and lemons
squeezed in one breath. Tears danced with the sweat
pouring down her face as she sobbed and screamed
alone. The midwife said nothing at the edge of the
wooden bed, an annoyed expression written clearly on
her face. Sephiroth glanced for a moment towards the
bed, towards the crying golden woman pouring her
sorrows to solitude. The boy hesitantly brought one
foot up, and then another and again and
again...walking slowly towards the woman. Her screams
faded in the abysmal thoughts of his mind, and as by
reflex he glided through the floor to make sure that
someone else wasn't alone, alone only to embrace
himself when his eyes rained hard. His hand was cold
but he took no mind to it, and as he laid his hand on
her hand she smiled and through the blurry fog in his
eyes, he didn't see her cry, and she was quiet.
A soft cry rolled within that room, and Sephiroth saw
a smaller version of him washed and wrapped in a white
blanket and placed gracefully in Anna's hands.
"Soft like a cloud,"she trembled through a wide grin.
Her hands tightened around Sephiroth's fingers as she
spoke, "Meet you brother...Cloud."
The boy's green eyes flickered curiously at the faint
trace of blood painting Cloud's tiny, fragile body.
Sephiroth hesitantly touched his skin, a strangely
happy smile embracing his face as he felt its warmth--
like the sun.
***
The green-eyed boy stared at Cloud often, constantly
wondering how such a fragile thing could make him
smile and be happy.
/Brother./
Sephiroth liked the sound of that. He wasn't a very
older brother, only three years he reasoned from some
rambled phrases Hojo had once said. Hojo wanted him to
be a smart boy, to know things beyond the thoughts of
mere men, to surpass everything good and evil, and be
a god. But the little boy didn't want to leave this
sunbathed cottage, leave Anna, or *his* brother. It
was warm here and he liked warm things.
And that's why it was so strange and magical to
discover that something cold could be so
beautiful--that it could bring wondrous things.
The sky was a thick gray, and the wind was chilled to
ice. He wondered if the sky was holding its breath to
suddenly burst...the air felt that way. Anna was
sitting in an old wooden chair, her lips rouged in a
deep red, her blue eyes searching in anticipation at
the skies above through the simple window at her side.
Cloud was a bit restless at her side, pulling
insistently on the edge of her white dress.
He could walk now.
The green-eyed boy stared at the window once more,
only to see gray cobblestones beneath the looming,
frustrated clouds above. He wore a questioning
expression towards Anna, and the woman in turn
replied,"I think it's gonna snow, Sephiroth."
"What's snow?"the boy asked a bit confused as he
peered into the horizon.
"Something wonderful. Just wait."
Sephiroth nodded, rapping his finger against the hard
window sill, his eyes darting across the air
restlessly.
"It's no-"he stood quiet.
A single white particle of dust fell upon the somber
cobblestone, a faint dash of light. More stars danced
their way to the ground, matting it in a fresh white
sheet. The boy's lips rested half open as the gems
fell their way down the gray heavens, and it seemed as
if something beyond him willed for this day to be
happy...It was cold, but beneath the white light of
the snow, it didn't matter. The boy stood there for
sometime, glancing at Cloud, Anna, the sky, a proud,
glorious smile embracing his face as the snow fell
gracefully on the earth...as dreams fell upon the
solid ground, whispering, inspiring all to be content
in their morose lives.
"It's pretty, Anna,"he whispered slowly.
A distant cry echoed through the crystal lights, and
Sephiroth quietly asked what it was.
"Oh, that. Our neighbor's having a baby, Sephiroth."
The snow poured harder, but not as to choke the past
away, not as to blind the earth in white.
A nearby cry laughed happily, joyously
ringing,"..girl!!...name her Tifa."
"Her name is Tifa then,"Anna whispered to both Cloud
and the curious young boy.
"Oh, that sounds pretty."
"It does."
For a moment it seemed that the whole town was lit in
an angel's white tears, an offering to spark a trace
of a smile, a song, a dance...
But then it faded, and the snow slowly fell to one
single crystal before there was only a single white
transient blanket left-- left as a memory to that
glorious day when the heavens bid for that
silver-haired boy to smile a proud smile.
***
Dawn awoke from its dark bed, an orchestra of gold and
orange humming in harmony with the brisk morning wind.
A piano sounded nearby, playing as if in ignorance to
the beauty bursting in the sky, as if something more
was blooming in that cozy home of music. The fingers
which embraced the keys were soft and firm, a light
cream not so far off from the keys themselves. A
beautiful baby girl slept in a flower-embellished crib
nearby, her eyes blinking happily to the melody. The
woman felt a man's strong arms wrap around her
shoulders as her fingers pounded through the piano, a
hearty smile leaving her lips as she saw everything
happy in the world within one tiny room...so perfect.
Sephiroth heard the tune often through his small
window, and he'd often cross his arms against the sill
wondering what was beyond the soft yellow lamp at the
edge of the neighboring window. Cloud would tug at his
baggy pants, and in turn the green-eyed boy would pat
him on the shoulder, occasionally allowing him to sit
on his lap, murmuring a jumble of coherent phrases and
gibberish all at once.
And as the leaves of birch trees crusted to a hard
brown, as the wrinkles of Anna's face grew beneath her
eyes, the music flowed in the very same way...and
Sephiroth smiled as he listened. He wondered who else
heard it.
He found out one idle afternoon, when ideas and
thoughts lazily slipped the mind, when no one seemed
to care what exactly happened or would happen.
Cloud was six that morning. Funny, Sephiroth never
thought that one day this little baby would stop
spewing his breakfast and making a yellow mess on the
floor.
/He still makes a mighty mess on his bed/ Sephiroth
mused, slightly chuckling.
And the silver-haired boy walked, a certain underlying
confidence beneath every bold stride as he made way to
the ever-radiant sun. Perhaps, for once in a long
time, something had fades; maybe it was that horror
that he would be lonely forever and that there was
*no* sun, no light blue in a rainy sky...no hope.
But there was always something faintly close to hope,
singing very softly against the dying winds of the
soul; there *was* a light in the murky depths of the
sea that we could all grasp or at least try to catch.
Perhaps it wasn't quite an idle afternoon, after all.
A girl wandered around the town square, something
blooming in her hand, something painted in a rainbow
of red. And as she slowly walked about, a sweet wind
followed behind her footsteps, a sweet enchanting wind
radiating a bittersweet happiness in its trail. Her
brown eyes glanced at the red gem in a magical daze,
her thick mahogany hair swishing slowly against her
back as she walked.
Sephiroth walked hesitantly towards the girl and with
a furious rub against the back of his neck he asked,
"What's that?"
The girl arched an eyebrow of disbelief as she
replied, "Itsa wose."
"Huh."
"A wose."
"A rose?" he questioned.
"Thas what I've been sayin'," the girl replied a bit
annoyed.
"Oh...can I see?"he asked, a certain sadness seeping
in his eyes. He let the rose lay gently in his hands
as he examined it carefully, wanting to decipher the
mystery behind it. Someone had once said something
beautiful of a rose...
//Deeper than the bloom of a rose
Crooning against a solemn shadow.
There is you.//
"Deeper?"he asked softly, his hand tightening against
the stem of the rose.
Tightening.
Choking...
Until he saw melted roses.
/No...not melted roses./
He glared at his red stained hand, suddenly angry at
the rose, and yet refusing to let it go. The girl
looked sympathetically at the crimson soaked hand, at
without a single word, tore a piece of her shirt,
tying it messily around his hand.
"My mummy does that when I get hurt," she whispered,
resting a soft hand against his cheek.
Sephiroth stared at the white cloth for a moment,
grinning softly as he mumbled a "thank you" through
pursed lips. The girl walked away again, the wind
softly sweeping against her thick brown strands with
her steps. Sephiroth watched her leave for several
moments, suddenly asking,"What's your name?"
"Tifa."
"Mine's Sephiroth, Sephiroth Strife." Tifa nodded
slowly, the sound of her boots softening in the
distance.
Sephiroth glared at his wound for sometime,
unconsciously tracing the side of his cheek with a
white finger, thinking.
Author's Note: Argh! Sorry this is sorta...messed up, eh?