Good Luck and Goodbye, 2/? by Lucky_Ladybug (Final Fantasy VII, A Cappella)
Title: Good Luck and Goodbye, chapter two
Author: Lucky_Ladybug/insaneladybug
Theme: #1 - A Cappella
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Warnings: Thematic elements, a bit of blood; PG-13
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine and the story is!
Summary/Comments: Sephiroth searches for the antidote while Cloud, Zack, and Angeal uncover further evidence of the kind of person they're dealing with.
Cross-posted to ladybug_tales and http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4243414/2/
Chapter Two
He Won't Show His Heart
As Sephiroth reached the door, he had to admit he was vaguely surprised at the discovery that it was unlocked. With this cruel and heartless game, he had almost expected that he would be locked in the room and would have to find his own way out. But instead the knob turned, and he pushed the door open to reveal a long and spacious corridor. It was brightly lit, and expensive paintings and closed doors lined both sides of the hall. No other living being was in sight. Maybe he was right and he had been left there alone. But if so, that indicated either overconfidence or realistic surety on the part of the abductor.
He stepped out onto the carpet. Now there was the problem of where the antidote would be hidden. The logical place would be a medicine cabinet, especially if the madman decided that such an obvious location would not be checked. Or maybe he would keep some of the other poisons there.
How would it even be possible to know which was the correct vial when he did find it? It would likely not be marked "antidote." A frown crossed Sephiroth's features as he began to move forward. Maybe the situation was hopeless and he would be tricked up to the time he perished. It would be preferable if he could either call the police or escape this house altogether. But he would probably be prevented. He reached into his pocket. Of course his cellphone was gone. And were there even working telephones in this building?
All of the doors along here seemed to be ajar. He pushed open the first one as he came to it. Beyond it was a vacant bedroom, and even with the light off, he could see from the glow cast by the hall that the predominant color was blue. A light blue adorned the walls, with a darker sapphire hue for the drawn curtains and the bedspread. A dresser stood near the door, and a nightstand next to the bed, both made of dark wood.
Any drawer was a logical place for the antidote to be kept. He stepped inside, switching on the light as he came. Turning to face the dresser, he pulled open the top drawer. It was filled with clothes, all either black or red in color. And why did that feel like he was being mocked somehow? Black was his preferred color to wear, but this person could also be using it to mean darkness. And the red might mean blood. He lifted out the top shirt, holding it up to his chest. It would fit perfectly.
Something small and rectangular twirled to the floor. He frowned, looking down at it. It must have fallen out of the shirt when he had unfolded it. Setting it back in the open drawer, he bent down to retrieve the paper. His aching back screamed in protest as he stayed in that position, squinting at the hand-written message.
White doesn't suit you, Sephiroth.
He straightened up, glowering at the note as he placed it on top of the dresser. Strange, that only now it was dawning that he was not wearing his white dress shirt from before the crash. It was probably bloodied and unpleasant, but it was abhorrent to wear anything provided by this man. He looked down at himself. At least the shirt he was wearing now was black and not red. Red was far too flashy and noticeable.
Carefully he removed everything from the compartment. There was nothing besides the clothes. He shoved them back in before opening the next drawer. There was no point in being careful now that he knew there was not a vial that might fall to the floor and break.
In each of the drawers it was the same; there were clothes of some description in each one. A few moments later he pushed the bottom drawer as far in as it would go. He was likely being watched now as well. He could not see the camera, but he could sense it. Someone who would go to all this trouble would want to follow every movement Sephiroth made.
He walked over to the nightstand. There was only one compartment in it. Grasping the handle, he slid open the drawer. Inside were two vials.
His frown deepened as he picked them up. They were identical in size, and each was blank save for a colored dot near the top. One sported red while the other hailed blue. What did the colors mean? Were they in lieu of labels so that the madman would know what each contained? Or was it a code that Sephiroth was supposed to decipher? He glanced in the drawer again. There was not a note here. Apparently this had been left for him to solve on his own.
For now he would take both of them with him. There was not any point in injecting himself with one or the other right away, especially when he might only further poison himself. But he would have to determine the answer soon. Now there was less than seventy-two hours---if that had not been a lie to begin with. Or maybe what had been meant was seventy-two hours from the moment of injection, which could have been even an hour or more before Sephiroth awakened.
He turned to look at the opposite side of the room. On the wall behind the door was a painting depicting a dignitary drinking poison in sharp and realistic detail. Several other men---traitors---were standing by, observing with knowing sneers. One of them was holding a small container with the skull and crossbones on it, unbeknownst to the drinker.
He looked away from it, annoyance written across his features.
How pleasant.
****
Cloud had never thought that they would be journeying to Jenova Corp this late at night. But it had the best computers, and what they needed now was the best. All of them were agreed that before going to the police, they needed to do as much investigating as possible on their own. Involving the local authorities would run the risk of exposing themselves as aliens---and that would be the worst thing that they could do. Plus, they had gotten so used to dealing with problems themselves on Gaia. It was really preferable that way.
As long as they would be able to actually do something. He felt tense as well as helpless as Zack typed the license plate number into the database. He and Angeal crossed their arms and stood by, waiting for the results.
Who would do something like this to Sephiroth? Dalton was capable of the cruelty, and yet it did not seem like his style---from what Cloud had seen of him, anyway. Dalton seemed more the type who would want to brag about his involvement, or else to write a note himself saying that Sephiroth had attempted suicide and Dalton had taken him away "until he could get hold of himself." But for all they would know, Dalton might be trying a new trick. It made Cloud's blood boil. They never could get away from enemies.
Sephiroth had not written the note. Both Zack and Angeal were firm about it, and Cloud certainly did not disagree with them. But the fear in his heart persisted. What if he had been blind to Sephiroth's full anguish? What if Sephiroth had wanted to die but Cloud or Zack or Angeal could have stopped him and comforted him if they had known? It was agonizing.
It was also more that he did not trust himself rather than that he did not trust Sephiroth. But talking about it would just give off the wrong idea. Either way he looked at it, he was doing Sephiroth a grave disservice by even entertaining the thought that he would be suicidal. And yet, how could he not at least consider it? It was true, what he had said---that many times suicide victims appeared fine to those around them before they did away with themselves. And if Sephiroth really was that tortured, then he needed more help than just being found. If Sephiroth did have those feelings and the possibility was ignored, than that also would be a disservice. It was so overwhelming to try to think about!
On the other hand, if some madman had written the note to torment them, what guarantee did they have that Sephiroth was not already dead? Maybe he had been killed in the crash, or maybe just badly injured and the creep would finish it off. And then he would probably make it look like suicide for when Sephiroth was found. The very thought made him sick. But Zack and Angeal were surely considering the same possibilities. It would seem selfish to bring up his own concerns, as if he was looking to be comforted himself. It was better to stay quiet on these points, too.
"There!" Zack exclaimed, bringing Cloud back to the present.
"You found something?" he demanded.
Zack gave a firm nod. "The car belongs to Hideki Hitokiri, and it hasn't been reported stolen!" he said.
Angeal's eyes narrowed. "Hitokiri?" he repeated.
Zack blinked. "Yeah," he said. "Why?"
"In Japanese, that means 'man-slayer'." Angeal's voice and visage were grim. "Or 'man-killer.'" Which somehow sounded even more chilling.
"'Man-slayer'?! 'Man-killer'?!" Now Zack had become the echo. His eyes were wide and horrified.
Angeal nodded. "It could be a coincidence," he said slowly.
"But it probably isn't." Cloud frowned.
Zack swallowed hard. "Hey, isn't there a word that sounds almost the same in Wutaian?" he remembered.
"It means the same thing, too," Angeal said.
Zack was printing the information in the next instant. "It gives an address," he said. "So let's not waste time! Seph might be there!" But even as he said it, the cotton was coming back into his throat. It was not likely that it would be this easy. If they were on the right track, they could still have a long way to go before they could reach the finish line. And what might have happened to Seph by then?
What might have happened to him by now?
It was horrifying, to think about everything they had suffered on both planets. But somehow they had always come through, despite it taking longer for some resolutions to come than others. It could not be any different now. He would not let it. None of them would let it! Seph would be just fine. Soon he would be back with them, and everything would be normal again. . . .
Angeal's strong hand came down on Zack's shoulder. "Let's be careful," he said. "If we get hurt, we won't be able to help Sephiroth." Zack had matured a great deal over the years. Angeal had recognized that as soon as he had seen his former trainee on this planet. But he was still Zack, and Zack was sometimes impulsive when it came to his friends. Anyone could see that this was shredding his soul. He was probably blaming himself, at least in part, for not having gone with Sephiroth. And Angeal hated to see that.
Zack looked up at him. "I know," he said. And he gave a weak grin. "Aren't I always careful?"
Angeal answered with a stern look.
Cloud retrieved the paper as it emerged from the printer. "This is in one of the middle-class neighborhoods," he realized as he appraised it. "Sephiroth and I were down in that neighborhood several months ago, checking out some property."
Zack blinked in confusion. "And where was I?" he exclaimed.
"In a meeting," Cloud said. "There were those two appointments and they ended up being at the same time, so we couldn't all go to one or the other."
Zack leaped up from the chair. "Well, come on!" he cried. "Let's get going!" With that he was rushing to the door.
Cloud hurried after him.
Angeal took a moment to shut down the computer before following. He stared into the monitor screen as he straightened. If Sephiroth was in any condition to move about, he would be trying to get away. That was one consolation.
But the concern that kept plaguing them was, What if he was not able? There had been so much blood in and around the cars. Sephiroth might be somewhere helpless.
Of course Angeal wished and hoped that they would find him at Hitokiri's house. But they might not.
Or they might only find his mortal remains.
He gritted his teeth, walking to the door and turning out the light.
****
Sephiroth raised a hand to his head as he made his way further down the hall. By now he had looked through several other rooms, but had not found any other vials. And he was nearing the end of the corridor. There was a staircase up ahead, past the final two rooms he needed to search. Hopefully he would be able to descend the stairs on his own terms. The vertigo was beginning to return in full force. And the last thing he wanted was to discover what it was like to fall down a long flight of steps. Especially one that curved.
He slumped back against the wall. Maybe if he rested for a few minutes, the discomfort would pass away again.
His heart was racing too, much faster than it should. He moved his hand over it, feeling the frantic thumping pulsations. Should it be that wild already if he really had three days? Or would this come and go in spurts as his body struggled to fight the poison?
Or did he have three days at all? What if he had been lied to?
He gritted his teeth. If he could only figure out what the color-coding meant. It was likely that when he did find other vials, they would also have markings of various hues. And it would not all be random, would it? Surely each color had some meaning.
Normally he would think that red would mean to not take it. But he was unsure of the meaning for blue. If it was green, it would be logical to think it meant it was alright to take it.
Or maybe the madman would reverse the meanings, just to be even more cruel. The red might be what he would be supposed to take.
There might not even be an antidote, for all he would know. Maybe everything that he would find would be poison, and no matter what he would take, he would make his condition worse and ensure a quicker death.
Would something like this have ever happened if he was still under Jenova's influence? Of course he still had her cells in his body, but they were dormant. Whether that was because she was sealed away or because she had decided she had no further use for him was unclear. But it was perfectly fine with him to be left in his own strength. He did not want any assistance from her.
Maybe he himself had ensured that they would be dormant, due to his strong will. After all, while insane he had managed to gain power over Jenova's hold on him and control her. And his mental strength was far more potent now that he had posession of his mind again.
He took a deep breath, straightening up. The ailments were starting to subside at last. It was time to move on.
And right next to the second-to-last door was another painting depicting poison. This time it was a rendition of Snow White and her apple. He glowered at the art piece. This person was obsessed, apparently wanting to remind Sephiroth every chance he could of what was happening. As if he could ever not be thinking of it.
Underneath the work was a small table with a potted plant. He studied it as he moved closer. The only other location where he had seen a painting was in the room where he had found the vials. Could the paintings be clues as well as taunts?
He reached for the drawer, pulling it open. Inside were two more vials, this time both sporting green branding. His frown deepened as he lifted them out. They were identical to the others, save for the different marks.
So now there were three colors. The code could not be as simple as "take this, not that." Maybe the hues showed various levels of damage that would be caused? Or even indicated what might be damaged? Though that would still leave confusion over the green.
He looked back up at the picture. Traditionally the apple was colored red, but here it was depicted as green. Did that have any significance? And were there any details such as that in the first painting?
He turned to look back the way he had come. Going back to study the first picture might result in him having to stop again to rest before being able to leave this floor. But it could be a clue to his survival. It would be foolish to not take the chance. Slipping the new vials into another pocket, he began to travel back along the corridor.
At least the dizziness held back long enough for him to get inside that first bedroom another time. Again turning on the light, he walked to the picture. The container the person was drinking from was golden, but there were several purple gems encrusted within it. And if there was any significance, that did not help at all. Purple was a combination of red and blue. Not to mention a symbol of royalty. His lip curled in disgust. He was going to be mocked all along the way.
"Ahh, poor Sephiroth. You're finding this so confusing, aren't you?"
He froze at the sound of the voice. With narrowed eyes he looked upward. Mostly concealed near the light fixture was a speaker. But the camera was still hidden from him.
"Oh, don't dawdle here looking for evidence of me! There's still so many other places to look for help for yourself, and so little time to go about it!"
His earlier concerns returned to his mind. "Did you give me the correct amount of time that I have?" he asked, his tone filled with ice.
"Correct amount?" A wretched cackle. "I may have. Or maybe I got the numbers mixed up. What if you only had twenty-seven hours back then? Oh dear, now I'm not sure myself."
It was easy to tell that the person knew exactly how much time was left. And somehow it seemed more likely that it would be closer to this new amount. That would only give him a little more than a day. Maybe even less by now. He had been going through each room thoroughly, so it had taken some time just to come as far as he had done.
Would Zack and the others even find him in that amount of time? He was certainly not going to rely only on them coming; he would keep searching for the solution until he could no longer move. But he did not want them to be forced to take part in a wild goose chase. He wanted them to find him. If he had not yet found the antidote, then they would still worry, but at least they would know he was yet alive. And with that many people looking, it might more likely be discovered soon.
Again his heart began to race. He made a grunt of pain, clapping his hand over the left side of his chest as he sank back against the door.
"The poison is starting to work already? Oh well, then I must have given you the wrong time at first. It's supposed to only begin its assault when you pass the twenty-four hour mark."
Sephiroth did not even look up at the speaker. "I won't trust . . . anything you tell me," he choked through gritted teeth. The room was starting to teeter. He shut his eyes, leaning further against the door. Of course he would need to take stock in what he was being told, but accepting it as definite truth would be folly. And he would never want to make it appear as though he needed to depend on his captor for information.
"Oh, you don't have to." The wretch was smiling. "But you might want to know anyway that your friends are just arriving at another home of mine."
The green eyes narrowed. "Another home?" he repeated. Was that second location where the person actually was, and Zack and the others would meet up with him? Or were both homes being monitored and the owner was still somewhere else altogether?
A cruel laugh. "I wonder what horrors they'll find inside."
Rage surged through Sephiroth's veins. Would some evidence be left to indicate that Sephiroth had been there---and that he had possibly tried to kill himself again? Or would the madman at least acknowledge that he had taken Sephiroth and that he was behind this chaos?
"And I wonder how Commander Fair is doing these days." Now the voice had taken on a mock musing tone.
Sephiroth's response was frozen. "I'm sure you know exactly how he's been doing." So, he had known Zack on Gaia as well. Not that it helped much in determining who he was.
Another laugh. "True, I have been keeping up on Jenova Corp news ever since I learned of its existence! Really, couldn't you have found a better name than that?"
Did he know of the significance of Jenova? Or did he only think the name was bizarre? The answer to that question could reveal a great deal about his identity.
. . . Though it had already been shown that Sephiroth's insanity was apparently familiar news. He had said before that Sephiroth had killed people for Shinra and for his "own insane goals." But even though a good deal of Gaia had wound up being aware of Sephiroth's madness in the end, and the fact that he had tried to cause Meteor, the general population should not know much about Jenova.
"Does it matter?" Sephiroth retorted.
"I just would have thought the great Sephiroth would have come up with something different," was the smooth answer.
And that made it sound as though he was deliberately evading the question.
"What I choose to name my company isn't any of your business." Though Sephiroth really did want to change the name. Sometimes he and the others had discussed what it could be called instead. But they had never arrived at a definite conclusion. And so it had continued to exist with the hated name. Maybe if everything calmed down long enough, they could decide on something else.
"I make everything about you my business! After all, you were the same for everything of mine." Now a hint of bitterness had slipped into his tone.
"But I shouldn't keep you!" he continued now. "If you're starting to feel better, you need to check those other rooms and then find a way downstairs. If you fall, you might shatter every one of those vials. And if any of them are what you need, then you would be out of luck for certain!" A click signaled the end of the conversation.
Sephiroth began to straighten up again. The pain was lessening, so he should not waste any more time in here. There did not seem to be any other details he could gather from the painting in front of him. Though it did look like there were other goblets on the table, each one encrusted with the actual colors of the markings he had found. His gaze traveled over them, mentally adding them up. All together there were six, in addition to the one being used. Two existed of each color except purple. So far he had located four---one red, one blue, and both greens. Was the number significant? He would keep it in mind, just in case.
He turned, making his way out of the room for the second time.
Hopefully he would not be back.
****
Meanwhile, the voice had not lied about at least one thing---Zack, Cloud, and Angeal were approaching the address given on the license plate information.
"So there really is a house here," Cloud muttered. "I thought it'd be a vacant lot."
Angeal frowned at the abode. All the lights were on, despite the late hour and the fact that there were not any cars in the driveway. "It doesn't look like anyone's home," he commented, eying the tall deciduous tree in the yard. It looked as if it could have easily existed for fifty years or more. It was too bad that it could not talk and let them know what had happened here.
Zack pulled into the driveway, trying to keep the engine as quiet as he could. In case Seph was in there by any chance, the car should be as close as possible so that he would not have to walk far. Lavender eyes glowered as the wind increased again, sending the old tree's branches dancing and waving in a foreboding manner. "Maybe he left Seph in there and skipped out," he suggested.
"If he wrote the note, nothing could be put past that creep," Cloud said, undoing his seatbelt as he began to climb out onto the pavement.
"If he did?!" Zack exclaimed, hopping out as well. He peered at his blond friend in concern. "Cloud, you don't really think Seph . . . ?"
"No, I don't," Cloud shot back. "But that still doesn't mean this guy did, either. All we're going on is that his car was leaking oil and drove past the field where Sephiroth was."
"And there was blood in his car," Angeal said, getting out and shutting the door behind him. He started up the walk. "He did have a passenger with him."
"Yeah, and there's that freaky name he came up with!" Zack said, hurrying after him. "Come on, that can't be his real name!"
Cloud frowned as he followed. That was true. It just seemed too weird to be real. And it all fit too well into this situation. The guy could have taken on that psuedonym as a hidden taunt and signal that he was going to kill someone. But if he wanted Sephiroth dead that bad, then who was he? It did not seem like he could be a complete stranger. But they had not especially made any enemies on this planet, either. Most, if not all, of their adversaries were people they had known on Gaia.
Actually, when he thought of it, he did not remember that any former enemies other than Dalton and his crew had wound up on Earth. It would have to either be them or someone who had not revealed his presence yet. Or a new nemesis made on this planet whose identity was unknown.
Angeal blinked in surprise as he arrived at the porch. "The door's unlocked," he announced. "And not only that, it's open." A thin stream of light made itself known from the visible crack. As Angeal pushed on the door, it creaked aside all the way, revealing the nicely-furnished living room beyond. The room was devoid of life, and yet every light within it had been turned on.
"It could be a trap," Cloud remarked.
"Then we'll just be careful!" Zack vowed, moving past Angeal to get inside. He stood in the middle of the room, taking in the surroundings. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, or wrong, other than the lights on everywhere. From where he was standing, he could see that the kitchen was also lit, and the hall. Under the circumstances, that in itself seemed wrong! Only one light would need to be kept on if the owner was concerned about thieves. Or maybe he had even already been robbed. It was bizarre that the door had been ajar, too. And yet the place did not look burgled, either.
The others followed him in, Angeal pulling the door closed behind them. Zack barely glanced back, instead placing his hands to his hips as he glared at the room.
"Does anything about this place seem funny to you guys?" he asked.
Cloud snorted. "Besides the fact that some psychopath lives here and probably kidnapped Sephiroth?" he retorted.
"That's just it!" Zack gestured wildly. "It doesn't look lived in at all! Sure, there's the basic furniture stuff, but there's nothing else---no pictures, or books, or anything!" He stepped forward. "I mean, even Seph's office has some books."
"Maybe the guy doesn't have any hobbies except killing people," Cloud muttered, only half-sarcastic. It did seem off, now that Zack had mentioned it.
Angeal shook his head. "It looks more like this house could be here to give an illusion of being lived in," he remarked.
Somehow these possibilities made everything all the more disturbing. Cloud walked past Zack, advancing further into the room. And his stomach twisted.
"There's blood on the floor by the stairs," he announced.
Zack paled. He ran over, staring at the carpet. It was only a few drops, but it was unmistakably blood. And he could not stand it any longer.
"Seph!" he screamed, leaping up two steps at a time until he gained the top. Cloud and Angeal were right behind him as he randomly turned to the left. All the doors were wide open, and as Zack arrived at the bathroom he suddenly felt sick. With shaking hands he bent down, lifting something up from the tiled floor.
"What is it?" Angeal demanded.
Slowly Zack stood up and turned around. In his hands he held a bloodied and torn shirt. Some of the original white color could still be seen, and Cloud drew a sharp intake of breath. It was Sephiroth's.
Zack turned it over, his hands trembling. Written on the back, using the drying blood, was a chilling message.
Tick-tock.
The sickened feeling extended to Cloud. The meaning was clear---time was running out. And Sephiroth was not here. The message would not have been left if he was in this house. The creep had expected them to come and look for him here. That was probably why he had abandoned his car, so that they would see the license plates and track down this place. What kind of nut were they dealing with? And how would they ever find Sephiroth? How much time was left by now?
Angeal shook his head in disbelief as well as horror. "That's it," he said at last. "We can't cover enough ground by ourselves. We'll have to call the police. Maybe they'll even know something about this person."
Zack nodded, dropping the shirt onto the sink. He felt as if he was in a daze. So much was happening so fast, with no relief in sight. . . . "And the others," he said. "We should call them, too---Vincent, and Cid, and Barret. . . . They could help look. . . ."
Cloud turned away, shutting his eyes tight. His heart was racing faster than he had thought possible. He had only realized several months ago that Sephiroth was his friend. Angeal had renewed his old friendship with Sephiroth around the same time. And of course, Zack had always been Sephiroth's devoted friend, even before he had been restored to life. Now there was a very real chance that they might all lose him.
He clenched a fist. Somehow, even though it looked impossible right now, they would find Sephiroth before it was too late. He was not going to give up, and neither were the others.
"I'll call Vincent," he said then.
"I'll handle the police," Angeal announced.
Zack nodded, forcing himself back to the present. "I'll get Cid and Barret," he said. "And I'll call to let the girls know what's up." He had called before, when they had been en route to Jenova Corp to access the supercomputer, and Aerith had said that she and Tifa would stay up to find out what developed. They would, too.
Out the frosted bathroom window, the first rays of pre-dawn light could be seen. All of them had been awake all night, and it was not likely that there would be time for sleep during the day, either. Tifa and Aerith would likely join the search while the kids were in school. Ordinarily Zack would protest their lack of sleep, but right now he was too worried. Any added help would be more than welcome.
The trio took out their cellphones to place the necessary calls. Behind them, a grandfather clock chimed.
Author: Lucky_Ladybug/insaneladybug
Theme: #1 - A Cappella
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Warnings: Thematic elements, a bit of blood; PG-13
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine and the story is!
Summary/Comments: Sephiroth searches for the antidote while Cloud, Zack, and Angeal uncover further evidence of the kind of person they're dealing with.
Cross-posted to ladybug_tales and http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4243414/2/
Chapter Two
He Won't Show His Heart
As Sephiroth reached the door, he had to admit he was vaguely surprised at the discovery that it was unlocked. With this cruel and heartless game, he had almost expected that he would be locked in the room and would have to find his own way out. But instead the knob turned, and he pushed the door open to reveal a long and spacious corridor. It was brightly lit, and expensive paintings and closed doors lined both sides of the hall. No other living being was in sight. Maybe he was right and he had been left there alone. But if so, that indicated either overconfidence or realistic surety on the part of the abductor.
He stepped out onto the carpet. Now there was the problem of where the antidote would be hidden. The logical place would be a medicine cabinet, especially if the madman decided that such an obvious location would not be checked. Or maybe he would keep some of the other poisons there.
How would it even be possible to know which was the correct vial when he did find it? It would likely not be marked "antidote." A frown crossed Sephiroth's features as he began to move forward. Maybe the situation was hopeless and he would be tricked up to the time he perished. It would be preferable if he could either call the police or escape this house altogether. But he would probably be prevented. He reached into his pocket. Of course his cellphone was gone. And were there even working telephones in this building?
All of the doors along here seemed to be ajar. He pushed open the first one as he came to it. Beyond it was a vacant bedroom, and even with the light off, he could see from the glow cast by the hall that the predominant color was blue. A light blue adorned the walls, with a darker sapphire hue for the drawn curtains and the bedspread. A dresser stood near the door, and a nightstand next to the bed, both made of dark wood.
Any drawer was a logical place for the antidote to be kept. He stepped inside, switching on the light as he came. Turning to face the dresser, he pulled open the top drawer. It was filled with clothes, all either black or red in color. And why did that feel like he was being mocked somehow? Black was his preferred color to wear, but this person could also be using it to mean darkness. And the red might mean blood. He lifted out the top shirt, holding it up to his chest. It would fit perfectly.
Something small and rectangular twirled to the floor. He frowned, looking down at it. It must have fallen out of the shirt when he had unfolded it. Setting it back in the open drawer, he bent down to retrieve the paper. His aching back screamed in protest as he stayed in that position, squinting at the hand-written message.
White doesn't suit you, Sephiroth.
He straightened up, glowering at the note as he placed it on top of the dresser. Strange, that only now it was dawning that he was not wearing his white dress shirt from before the crash. It was probably bloodied and unpleasant, but it was abhorrent to wear anything provided by this man. He looked down at himself. At least the shirt he was wearing now was black and not red. Red was far too flashy and noticeable.
Carefully he removed everything from the compartment. There was nothing besides the clothes. He shoved them back in before opening the next drawer. There was no point in being careful now that he knew there was not a vial that might fall to the floor and break.
In each of the drawers it was the same; there were clothes of some description in each one. A few moments later he pushed the bottom drawer as far in as it would go. He was likely being watched now as well. He could not see the camera, but he could sense it. Someone who would go to all this trouble would want to follow every movement Sephiroth made.
He walked over to the nightstand. There was only one compartment in it. Grasping the handle, he slid open the drawer. Inside were two vials.
His frown deepened as he picked them up. They were identical in size, and each was blank save for a colored dot near the top. One sported red while the other hailed blue. What did the colors mean? Were they in lieu of labels so that the madman would know what each contained? Or was it a code that Sephiroth was supposed to decipher? He glanced in the drawer again. There was not a note here. Apparently this had been left for him to solve on his own.
For now he would take both of them with him. There was not any point in injecting himself with one or the other right away, especially when he might only further poison himself. But he would have to determine the answer soon. Now there was less than seventy-two hours---if that had not been a lie to begin with. Or maybe what had been meant was seventy-two hours from the moment of injection, which could have been even an hour or more before Sephiroth awakened.
He turned to look at the opposite side of the room. On the wall behind the door was a painting depicting a dignitary drinking poison in sharp and realistic detail. Several other men---traitors---were standing by, observing with knowing sneers. One of them was holding a small container with the skull and crossbones on it, unbeknownst to the drinker.
He looked away from it, annoyance written across his features.
How pleasant.
****
Cloud had never thought that they would be journeying to Jenova Corp this late at night. But it had the best computers, and what they needed now was the best. All of them were agreed that before going to the police, they needed to do as much investigating as possible on their own. Involving the local authorities would run the risk of exposing themselves as aliens---and that would be the worst thing that they could do. Plus, they had gotten so used to dealing with problems themselves on Gaia. It was really preferable that way.
As long as they would be able to actually do something. He felt tense as well as helpless as Zack typed the license plate number into the database. He and Angeal crossed their arms and stood by, waiting for the results.
Who would do something like this to Sephiroth? Dalton was capable of the cruelty, and yet it did not seem like his style---from what Cloud had seen of him, anyway. Dalton seemed more the type who would want to brag about his involvement, or else to write a note himself saying that Sephiroth had attempted suicide and Dalton had taken him away "until he could get hold of himself." But for all they would know, Dalton might be trying a new trick. It made Cloud's blood boil. They never could get away from enemies.
Sephiroth had not written the note. Both Zack and Angeal were firm about it, and Cloud certainly did not disagree with them. But the fear in his heart persisted. What if he had been blind to Sephiroth's full anguish? What if Sephiroth had wanted to die but Cloud or Zack or Angeal could have stopped him and comforted him if they had known? It was agonizing.
It was also more that he did not trust himself rather than that he did not trust Sephiroth. But talking about it would just give off the wrong idea. Either way he looked at it, he was doing Sephiroth a grave disservice by even entertaining the thought that he would be suicidal. And yet, how could he not at least consider it? It was true, what he had said---that many times suicide victims appeared fine to those around them before they did away with themselves. And if Sephiroth really was that tortured, then he needed more help than just being found. If Sephiroth did have those feelings and the possibility was ignored, than that also would be a disservice. It was so overwhelming to try to think about!
On the other hand, if some madman had written the note to torment them, what guarantee did they have that Sephiroth was not already dead? Maybe he had been killed in the crash, or maybe just badly injured and the creep would finish it off. And then he would probably make it look like suicide for when Sephiroth was found. The very thought made him sick. But Zack and Angeal were surely considering the same possibilities. It would seem selfish to bring up his own concerns, as if he was looking to be comforted himself. It was better to stay quiet on these points, too.
"There!" Zack exclaimed, bringing Cloud back to the present.
"You found something?" he demanded.
Zack gave a firm nod. "The car belongs to Hideki Hitokiri, and it hasn't been reported stolen!" he said.
Angeal's eyes narrowed. "Hitokiri?" he repeated.
Zack blinked. "Yeah," he said. "Why?"
"In Japanese, that means 'man-slayer'." Angeal's voice and visage were grim. "Or 'man-killer.'" Which somehow sounded even more chilling.
"'Man-slayer'?! 'Man-killer'?!" Now Zack had become the echo. His eyes were wide and horrified.
Angeal nodded. "It could be a coincidence," he said slowly.
"But it probably isn't." Cloud frowned.
Zack swallowed hard. "Hey, isn't there a word that sounds almost the same in Wutaian?" he remembered.
"It means the same thing, too," Angeal said.
Zack was printing the information in the next instant. "It gives an address," he said. "So let's not waste time! Seph might be there!" But even as he said it, the cotton was coming back into his throat. It was not likely that it would be this easy. If they were on the right track, they could still have a long way to go before they could reach the finish line. And what might have happened to Seph by then?
What might have happened to him by now?
It was horrifying, to think about everything they had suffered on both planets. But somehow they had always come through, despite it taking longer for some resolutions to come than others. It could not be any different now. He would not let it. None of them would let it! Seph would be just fine. Soon he would be back with them, and everything would be normal again. . . .
Angeal's strong hand came down on Zack's shoulder. "Let's be careful," he said. "If we get hurt, we won't be able to help Sephiroth." Zack had matured a great deal over the years. Angeal had recognized that as soon as he had seen his former trainee on this planet. But he was still Zack, and Zack was sometimes impulsive when it came to his friends. Anyone could see that this was shredding his soul. He was probably blaming himself, at least in part, for not having gone with Sephiroth. And Angeal hated to see that.
Zack looked up at him. "I know," he said. And he gave a weak grin. "Aren't I always careful?"
Angeal answered with a stern look.
Cloud retrieved the paper as it emerged from the printer. "This is in one of the middle-class neighborhoods," he realized as he appraised it. "Sephiroth and I were down in that neighborhood several months ago, checking out some property."
Zack blinked in confusion. "And where was I?" he exclaimed.
"In a meeting," Cloud said. "There were those two appointments and they ended up being at the same time, so we couldn't all go to one or the other."
Zack leaped up from the chair. "Well, come on!" he cried. "Let's get going!" With that he was rushing to the door.
Cloud hurried after him.
Angeal took a moment to shut down the computer before following. He stared into the monitor screen as he straightened. If Sephiroth was in any condition to move about, he would be trying to get away. That was one consolation.
But the concern that kept plaguing them was, What if he was not able? There had been so much blood in and around the cars. Sephiroth might be somewhere helpless.
Of course Angeal wished and hoped that they would find him at Hitokiri's house. But they might not.
Or they might only find his mortal remains.
He gritted his teeth, walking to the door and turning out the light.
****
Sephiroth raised a hand to his head as he made his way further down the hall. By now he had looked through several other rooms, but had not found any other vials. And he was nearing the end of the corridor. There was a staircase up ahead, past the final two rooms he needed to search. Hopefully he would be able to descend the stairs on his own terms. The vertigo was beginning to return in full force. And the last thing he wanted was to discover what it was like to fall down a long flight of steps. Especially one that curved.
He slumped back against the wall. Maybe if he rested for a few minutes, the discomfort would pass away again.
His heart was racing too, much faster than it should. He moved his hand over it, feeling the frantic thumping pulsations. Should it be that wild already if he really had three days? Or would this come and go in spurts as his body struggled to fight the poison?
Or did he have three days at all? What if he had been lied to?
He gritted his teeth. If he could only figure out what the color-coding meant. It was likely that when he did find other vials, they would also have markings of various hues. And it would not all be random, would it? Surely each color had some meaning.
Normally he would think that red would mean to not take it. But he was unsure of the meaning for blue. If it was green, it would be logical to think it meant it was alright to take it.
Or maybe the madman would reverse the meanings, just to be even more cruel. The red might be what he would be supposed to take.
There might not even be an antidote, for all he would know. Maybe everything that he would find would be poison, and no matter what he would take, he would make his condition worse and ensure a quicker death.
Would something like this have ever happened if he was still under Jenova's influence? Of course he still had her cells in his body, but they were dormant. Whether that was because she was sealed away or because she had decided she had no further use for him was unclear. But it was perfectly fine with him to be left in his own strength. He did not want any assistance from her.
Maybe he himself had ensured that they would be dormant, due to his strong will. After all, while insane he had managed to gain power over Jenova's hold on him and control her. And his mental strength was far more potent now that he had posession of his mind again.
He took a deep breath, straightening up. The ailments were starting to subside at last. It was time to move on.
And right next to the second-to-last door was another painting depicting poison. This time it was a rendition of Snow White and her apple. He glowered at the art piece. This person was obsessed, apparently wanting to remind Sephiroth every chance he could of what was happening. As if he could ever not be thinking of it.
Underneath the work was a small table with a potted plant. He studied it as he moved closer. The only other location where he had seen a painting was in the room where he had found the vials. Could the paintings be clues as well as taunts?
He reached for the drawer, pulling it open. Inside were two more vials, this time both sporting green branding. His frown deepened as he lifted them out. They were identical to the others, save for the different marks.
So now there were three colors. The code could not be as simple as "take this, not that." Maybe the hues showed various levels of damage that would be caused? Or even indicated what might be damaged? Though that would still leave confusion over the green.
He looked back up at the picture. Traditionally the apple was colored red, but here it was depicted as green. Did that have any significance? And were there any details such as that in the first painting?
He turned to look back the way he had come. Going back to study the first picture might result in him having to stop again to rest before being able to leave this floor. But it could be a clue to his survival. It would be foolish to not take the chance. Slipping the new vials into another pocket, he began to travel back along the corridor.
At least the dizziness held back long enough for him to get inside that first bedroom another time. Again turning on the light, he walked to the picture. The container the person was drinking from was golden, but there were several purple gems encrusted within it. And if there was any significance, that did not help at all. Purple was a combination of red and blue. Not to mention a symbol of royalty. His lip curled in disgust. He was going to be mocked all along the way.
"Ahh, poor Sephiroth. You're finding this so confusing, aren't you?"
He froze at the sound of the voice. With narrowed eyes he looked upward. Mostly concealed near the light fixture was a speaker. But the camera was still hidden from him.
"Oh, don't dawdle here looking for evidence of me! There's still so many other places to look for help for yourself, and so little time to go about it!"
His earlier concerns returned to his mind. "Did you give me the correct amount of time that I have?" he asked, his tone filled with ice.
"Correct amount?" A wretched cackle. "I may have. Or maybe I got the numbers mixed up. What if you only had twenty-seven hours back then? Oh dear, now I'm not sure myself."
It was easy to tell that the person knew exactly how much time was left. And somehow it seemed more likely that it would be closer to this new amount. That would only give him a little more than a day. Maybe even less by now. He had been going through each room thoroughly, so it had taken some time just to come as far as he had done.
Would Zack and the others even find him in that amount of time? He was certainly not going to rely only on them coming; he would keep searching for the solution until he could no longer move. But he did not want them to be forced to take part in a wild goose chase. He wanted them to find him. If he had not yet found the antidote, then they would still worry, but at least they would know he was yet alive. And with that many people looking, it might more likely be discovered soon.
Again his heart began to race. He made a grunt of pain, clapping his hand over the left side of his chest as he sank back against the door.
"The poison is starting to work already? Oh well, then I must have given you the wrong time at first. It's supposed to only begin its assault when you pass the twenty-four hour mark."
Sephiroth did not even look up at the speaker. "I won't trust . . . anything you tell me," he choked through gritted teeth. The room was starting to teeter. He shut his eyes, leaning further against the door. Of course he would need to take stock in what he was being told, but accepting it as definite truth would be folly. And he would never want to make it appear as though he needed to depend on his captor for information.
"Oh, you don't have to." The wretch was smiling. "But you might want to know anyway that your friends are just arriving at another home of mine."
The green eyes narrowed. "Another home?" he repeated. Was that second location where the person actually was, and Zack and the others would meet up with him? Or were both homes being monitored and the owner was still somewhere else altogether?
A cruel laugh. "I wonder what horrors they'll find inside."
Rage surged through Sephiroth's veins. Would some evidence be left to indicate that Sephiroth had been there---and that he had possibly tried to kill himself again? Or would the madman at least acknowledge that he had taken Sephiroth and that he was behind this chaos?
"And I wonder how Commander Fair is doing these days." Now the voice had taken on a mock musing tone.
Sephiroth's response was frozen. "I'm sure you know exactly how he's been doing." So, he had known Zack on Gaia as well. Not that it helped much in determining who he was.
Another laugh. "True, I have been keeping up on Jenova Corp news ever since I learned of its existence! Really, couldn't you have found a better name than that?"
Did he know of the significance of Jenova? Or did he only think the name was bizarre? The answer to that question could reveal a great deal about his identity.
. . . Though it had already been shown that Sephiroth's insanity was apparently familiar news. He had said before that Sephiroth had killed people for Shinra and for his "own insane goals." But even though a good deal of Gaia had wound up being aware of Sephiroth's madness in the end, and the fact that he had tried to cause Meteor, the general population should not know much about Jenova.
"Does it matter?" Sephiroth retorted.
"I just would have thought the great Sephiroth would have come up with something different," was the smooth answer.
And that made it sound as though he was deliberately evading the question.
"What I choose to name my company isn't any of your business." Though Sephiroth really did want to change the name. Sometimes he and the others had discussed what it could be called instead. But they had never arrived at a definite conclusion. And so it had continued to exist with the hated name. Maybe if everything calmed down long enough, they could decide on something else.
"I make everything about you my business! After all, you were the same for everything of mine." Now a hint of bitterness had slipped into his tone.
"But I shouldn't keep you!" he continued now. "If you're starting to feel better, you need to check those other rooms and then find a way downstairs. If you fall, you might shatter every one of those vials. And if any of them are what you need, then you would be out of luck for certain!" A click signaled the end of the conversation.
Sephiroth began to straighten up again. The pain was lessening, so he should not waste any more time in here. There did not seem to be any other details he could gather from the painting in front of him. Though it did look like there were other goblets on the table, each one encrusted with the actual colors of the markings he had found. His gaze traveled over them, mentally adding them up. All together there were six, in addition to the one being used. Two existed of each color except purple. So far he had located four---one red, one blue, and both greens. Was the number significant? He would keep it in mind, just in case.
He turned, making his way out of the room for the second time.
Hopefully he would not be back.
****
Meanwhile, the voice had not lied about at least one thing---Zack, Cloud, and Angeal were approaching the address given on the license plate information.
"So there really is a house here," Cloud muttered. "I thought it'd be a vacant lot."
Angeal frowned at the abode. All the lights were on, despite the late hour and the fact that there were not any cars in the driveway. "It doesn't look like anyone's home," he commented, eying the tall deciduous tree in the yard. It looked as if it could have easily existed for fifty years or more. It was too bad that it could not talk and let them know what had happened here.
Zack pulled into the driveway, trying to keep the engine as quiet as he could. In case Seph was in there by any chance, the car should be as close as possible so that he would not have to walk far. Lavender eyes glowered as the wind increased again, sending the old tree's branches dancing and waving in a foreboding manner. "Maybe he left Seph in there and skipped out," he suggested.
"If he wrote the note, nothing could be put past that creep," Cloud said, undoing his seatbelt as he began to climb out onto the pavement.
"If he did?!" Zack exclaimed, hopping out as well. He peered at his blond friend in concern. "Cloud, you don't really think Seph . . . ?"
"No, I don't," Cloud shot back. "But that still doesn't mean this guy did, either. All we're going on is that his car was leaking oil and drove past the field where Sephiroth was."
"And there was blood in his car," Angeal said, getting out and shutting the door behind him. He started up the walk. "He did have a passenger with him."
"Yeah, and there's that freaky name he came up with!" Zack said, hurrying after him. "Come on, that can't be his real name!"
Cloud frowned as he followed. That was true. It just seemed too weird to be real. And it all fit too well into this situation. The guy could have taken on that psuedonym as a hidden taunt and signal that he was going to kill someone. But if he wanted Sephiroth dead that bad, then who was he? It did not seem like he could be a complete stranger. But they had not especially made any enemies on this planet, either. Most, if not all, of their adversaries were people they had known on Gaia.
Actually, when he thought of it, he did not remember that any former enemies other than Dalton and his crew had wound up on Earth. It would have to either be them or someone who had not revealed his presence yet. Or a new nemesis made on this planet whose identity was unknown.
Angeal blinked in surprise as he arrived at the porch. "The door's unlocked," he announced. "And not only that, it's open." A thin stream of light made itself known from the visible crack. As Angeal pushed on the door, it creaked aside all the way, revealing the nicely-furnished living room beyond. The room was devoid of life, and yet every light within it had been turned on.
"It could be a trap," Cloud remarked.
"Then we'll just be careful!" Zack vowed, moving past Angeal to get inside. He stood in the middle of the room, taking in the surroundings. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, or wrong, other than the lights on everywhere. From where he was standing, he could see that the kitchen was also lit, and the hall. Under the circumstances, that in itself seemed wrong! Only one light would need to be kept on if the owner was concerned about thieves. Or maybe he had even already been robbed. It was bizarre that the door had been ajar, too. And yet the place did not look burgled, either.
The others followed him in, Angeal pulling the door closed behind them. Zack barely glanced back, instead placing his hands to his hips as he glared at the room.
"Does anything about this place seem funny to you guys?" he asked.
Cloud snorted. "Besides the fact that some psychopath lives here and probably kidnapped Sephiroth?" he retorted.
"That's just it!" Zack gestured wildly. "It doesn't look lived in at all! Sure, there's the basic furniture stuff, but there's nothing else---no pictures, or books, or anything!" He stepped forward. "I mean, even Seph's office has some books."
"Maybe the guy doesn't have any hobbies except killing people," Cloud muttered, only half-sarcastic. It did seem off, now that Zack had mentioned it.
Angeal shook his head. "It looks more like this house could be here to give an illusion of being lived in," he remarked.
Somehow these possibilities made everything all the more disturbing. Cloud walked past Zack, advancing further into the room. And his stomach twisted.
"There's blood on the floor by the stairs," he announced.
Zack paled. He ran over, staring at the carpet. It was only a few drops, but it was unmistakably blood. And he could not stand it any longer.
"Seph!" he screamed, leaping up two steps at a time until he gained the top. Cloud and Angeal were right behind him as he randomly turned to the left. All the doors were wide open, and as Zack arrived at the bathroom he suddenly felt sick. With shaking hands he bent down, lifting something up from the tiled floor.
"What is it?" Angeal demanded.
Slowly Zack stood up and turned around. In his hands he held a bloodied and torn shirt. Some of the original white color could still be seen, and Cloud drew a sharp intake of breath. It was Sephiroth's.
Zack turned it over, his hands trembling. Written on the back, using the drying blood, was a chilling message.
Tick-tock.
The sickened feeling extended to Cloud. The meaning was clear---time was running out. And Sephiroth was not here. The message would not have been left if he was in this house. The creep had expected them to come and look for him here. That was probably why he had abandoned his car, so that they would see the license plates and track down this place. What kind of nut were they dealing with? And how would they ever find Sephiroth? How much time was left by now?
Angeal shook his head in disbelief as well as horror. "That's it," he said at last. "We can't cover enough ground by ourselves. We'll have to call the police. Maybe they'll even know something about this person."
Zack nodded, dropping the shirt onto the sink. He felt as if he was in a daze. So much was happening so fast, with no relief in sight. . . . "And the others," he said. "We should call them, too---Vincent, and Cid, and Barret. . . . They could help look. . . ."
Cloud turned away, shutting his eyes tight. His heart was racing faster than he had thought possible. He had only realized several months ago that Sephiroth was his friend. Angeal had renewed his old friendship with Sephiroth around the same time. And of course, Zack had always been Sephiroth's devoted friend, even before he had been restored to life. Now there was a very real chance that they might all lose him.
He clenched a fist. Somehow, even though it looked impossible right now, they would find Sephiroth before it was too late. He was not going to give up, and neither were the others.
"I'll call Vincent," he said then.
"I'll handle the police," Angeal announced.
Zack nodded, forcing himself back to the present. "I'll get Cid and Barret," he said. "And I'll call to let the girls know what's up." He had called before, when they had been en route to Jenova Corp to access the supercomputer, and Aerith had said that she and Tifa would stay up to find out what developed. They would, too.
Out the frosted bathroom window, the first rays of pre-dawn light could be seen. All of them had been awake all night, and it was not likely that there would be time for sleep during the day, either. Tifa and Aerith would likely join the search while the kids were in school. Ordinarily Zack would protest their lack of sleep, but right now he was too worried. Any added help would be more than welcome.
The trio took out their cellphones to place the necessary calls. Behind them, a grandfather clock chimed.