If Aerith had told Sephiroth that he had been dead to the world for more than the few
days which had elapsed in his dream state, he would have stamped her out as untruthful.
However, the earthquake scenario only drove Cloud to suspect Sephiroth of treachery
beyond the grave. His heart had grown cold, his eyes saw nothing but what he wanted
them to. Cloud was older, wiser but also stuck at that point in time where Sephiroth had
supposedly died. At that road in his life, something inside of Cloud had wilted away.
Whenever he gazed upon Sephiroth, he still saw red - blood red.
Their rescue came quickly, ruining any effort Sephiroth made to be alone with Cloud. It
was amazing enough that he was not beaten to death by the townspeople who came to
Cloud’s aid. They were friendly but acted as if Sephiroth was not even there. It was
Cloud who they cared about, not him. He was a stranger in their lands, a trespasser
where he didn’t belong. And he couldn’t have felt more alone than he already did.
“Cloud, would you please grant me a few minutes of your time? All I want is to explain
myself to you, beg for a second chance if that’s what it takes.”
But Cloud hardly raised his eyebrows at Sephiroth’s request. “You deserve nothing from
me. I don’t believe your stupid story about me allowing you mercy all those years ago. I
set out to kill you and if I missed, then I’m very sorry for that.” He took in the sight of
his dismantled home and glowered at the silver haired man.
“How many years has it been?”
All around them, men, women and children were helping each other find shelter, food
and clothing for the ones who had lost their houses. The atmosphere was particularly
cheerful as they banded together, sharing their love and kindness for their fellow
neighbors.
That glowing feeling of warmth wasn’t present in Cloud. He tightened the blanket which
kept the bitter wind from nipping at his shoulders. Then, he gave Sephiroth a look which
was worse than any he had ever received from the silver haired man in his time of
insanity. “Five years, Sephiroth. You have been dead and out of my life for that long.
Now is not the best time for me to see you return when I was happy thinking of you six
feet under.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because, I was at peace with myself before seeing you again. I rebuilt my life, my
friends and my personality. Thanks to you, it will never be what it could have been.”
Sephiroth sighed and crouched beside Cloud who rested against the side of his caved-in
house. “You don’t look at peace. This is coming from a man who has been possessed by
the scars of his past. If you hate me as much as you say, why not turn me in? Tell all of
your friends who I really am, what I did to them and their kind. Go ahead and be done
with it.”
“No. To me, you don’t even exist.” Cloud glanced down at the flowers Sephiroth had
given to him before the earthquake had hit. “And you can take these and burn them.
Burn them like everything else you set on fire in my life.” The flowers were swung at
Sephiroth’s face, the leaves smacking him even as the petals fell off.
Cloud walked away, slowly, not caring if Sephiroth were to follow. He wanted to keep
the anger sizzling between them. How badly he longed to just yell out Sephiroth’s name,
make people stop and stare. They would remember the tales of the psychotic man even if
they had not been there to witness his atrocities. The man would not have a hope in hell
of surviving the punishment that was rightly his.
The further that Cloud moved from the disaster zone, the lonelier he began to feel. His
anger faded but he strictly kept going. Time passed but he heard nothing, could not sense
anything. Had Sephiroth given up that easily? Was his statement of love just another lie?
Cloud couldn’t take it anymore. He peered over his shoulder and…there was Sephiroth.
The older man was keeping his distance but also his pace.
“What do you want from me?,” asked an exasperated Cloud.
“I will do whatever it takes to make you happy again.”
“Well, you aren’t the answer. Why don’t you bother someone else?”
The limitless insults and acidic remarks had taken their toll on Sephiroth. He stopped
and watched Cloud continue on. At that moment, he knew what it was to be unloved,
unwanted and shunned from the only person he cared for. What a fool he had been to ask
Aerith for a second chance. The only person getting a second chance was Cloud. And
Cloud was using it to exact his revenge on Sephiroth by hurting him as sincerely as he
could manage.
“Okay then.”
The words came so quietly that Sephiroth didn’t realize they were being spoken.
Startled, he looked over to see that Cloud had retraced his steps to be at his side. Even
Cloud would not be so cruel. His happiness would not be derived from the loss of
Sephiroth’s.
“What did you say?”
“Follow me then. Apologize and do whatever it is you feel will give you retribution. But
if you dare take my leniency for granted, you will be very, very sorry.”
“I promise Cloud, you will not regret this.” Sephiroth tagged along after Cloud, smiling
and blessing his fate. Although he would not boast over his findings, he had never
stopped believing that Cloud was incapable of hatred. “Where are we going?”
“The nearest inn. Unless you’d rather sleep outside to appease your paranoia.”
“The inn will do just fine.”
“Oh, and Sephiroth…”
“Yes?”
“Don’t pick me anymore flowers. I’m allergic.”
Sephiroth straightened up and left the roots in the soil. He wondered how he was going
to shower Cloud with attention if he refused any gift offered to him.
Once they reached the inn, Cloud went directly into the dining room to fill his stomach.
He had been giving Sephiroth dirty looks up until then. Even as they began their meal,
Cloud was still eyeing Sephiroth as if he was a leper.
“What is it?” No one was paying any particular attention to him so it wasn’t that his
identity had been found out. And he knew that his attire was casual enough to fit into
the rather poor setting.
“Give me your sword.” Cloud held out his hand, palm up, waiting for Sephiroth to obey.
There were other people in the dining room who found sudden interest in the hostility
between the two men.
At first Sephiroth objected. “You can’t use it. I need it in case there is danger.” Was
there a hint of paranoia present in his voice?
“How do you know what I can and cannot use?”
“In your bedroom, when you lost your grip on it against the wall. You nearly tore off
your arm.”
“Oh, from your little fantasy. Listen up, Sephiroth. That was your fantasy, not mine.
See, in my real world, I can use whatever I get my hands on. And I don’t trust you
holding onto it so why not save your breath and give it to me.” Cloud was still skeptical
over Sephiroth’s fictional story of how he had gone through an alternate universe of what
could have been. The part where he chatted with Aerith made his story even more
implausible.
A bitter moan was all Sephiroth could muster as his sword was propped up beside
Cloud’s chair. His appetite was waning, not even the juicy roast brought to the table
could peak his interest. He found himself leaning his elbows onto the table to appraise
Cloud. The only thing which didn’t disturb him was Cloud’s face, his big, blue mako
eyes and the heart he knew was within.
“How I wish things had been different between us.”
“This may be surprising to hear but so do I. You were my idol back when I was just a
teenager. The great and powerful Sephiroth, slayer of evil demons and all that heroic
stuff. When you snapped, it nearly crushed my hopes and dreams.”
“You sound just like you did in my dream.” Sephiroth took hold of Cloud’s hand and
squeezed it under the table. “And now you’re real. You don’t realize it but you have
given me back what I lost long ago.”
An inner emotion gnawed away at Cloud, convinced him to allow Sephiroth the comfort
he sought. For some distorted reason, he could not watch Sephiroth crumble before him.
He wanted the same thing for Sephiroth as the man was trying to give him. But wasn’t it
wrong for a formerly evil man to enjoy his life? Shouldn’t Sephiroth be in prison, locked
away in chains to be tormented for the rest of his life?
“And what is that?”
“My humanity. I look up to you for guidance now, Cloud. Only you can set the perfect
example for me to imitate. For all you’ve done, saved the world and me included, you
are the true hero.”
Then Cloud couldn’t take it anymore. He was cursed to keep seeing mako green eyes
wherever his own eyes rested. How many nights had he spent awake and wondering
where Sephiroth was? What Sephiroth was doing and if he had died in harmony or stuck
in his crazed shell of fear and dread. There was Sephiroth right in front of him, his
mouth pasted into an unbreakable smile of joy. The way the light cast on him from the
overhead lights made him seem like an angel. He had repented and was free at last.
“Damn you!” Cloud wrenched his fingers into Sephiroth’s hair and pulled him across the
table. They were only inches apart with Sephiroth anticipating the blow from Cloud
which would send his heart to a place from which it could never return.
“Hit me then. If that’s what you desire.”
Bewilderment swam in Cloud’s vision, causing him to drop Sephiroth, letting
him crash onto the table. He hadn’t been ready to strike the silver haired man, no, his
intentions were far more devious.
“You’ve corrupted me already!” Cloud tore out of the room, snatching up the sword in
his hasty retreat.
“Wait!” Sephiroth hurried after him, knocking over a bottle of wine in the process of
getting up. He profusely apologized to the waiter, then to the lady he sent crashing over a
chair on his way out. If Cloud disappeared - if he never got the chance to make things
right between them - all would be lost.
Amazingly, Sephiroth did not have to go far because Cloud was hesitating next to the
stairs. He slowed down and was careful not to get into the other man’s personal space.
“You really have changed,” was all Cloud could say.
“Is that good or bad?”
When Cloud raised his head to meet Sephiroth’s gaze, their hearts nearly collided.
Before either of them could speak again, they were in each other’s arms, holding on tight.
The sword harmlessly clattered to the floor.
“Why did you have to be a former psychopath? Why couldn’t I have fallen in love with
Tifa?” He shushed Sephiroth’s answer to his rhetorical question by standing on his toes
to kiss the man on the lips. “You’re right, it doesn’t matter what happened in our past, it
can’t change the way I feel for you now.”
The thumping in Sephiroth’s heart told him that something had gone inconceivably right.
It was like being forgiven by Cloud all over again but this time the words didn’t need to
be said aloud. Here they were, together, at last and nothing was going to break them
apart. There was the tiny matter of regaining Cloud’s love and trust but if they were both
willing, they would achieve success.
So, they stayed that way for a while, just pressed up against the other. Not shifting,
thinking or even stopping to glare back at the innkeeper who thought they were bad for
business. Everything would be okay.
