Shine Until Tomorrow, 3/?
Title: Shine Until Tomorrow, chapter three
Canon: Original game canon, Crisis Core canon
Theme + Number: #6 - Cold; #73 - Prayer
Claim: General Relationship - Sephiroth and Zack Fair
Characters/Pairings included: Yuffie (cameo), supporting OCs
Rating: T/PG-13
Warnings: Blood, violence, negligence
Summary: Sephiroth continues to wander as he comes to the end of his strength. Meanwhile, Zack receives a glimmer of hope for his friend's survival.
Spoilers: None.
Cross-posted to: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3802760/3/Shine_Until_Tomorrow
Notes: The second scene broke my heart, I swear. I could barely write it.
Chapter Three
For the past hours, Zack had felt numb. He had tried to help put out the fire, but the villagers had not wanted his services. He had escorted Ms. Shidou to her sister's home, carrying kids in his arms and on his back, and had tried to help with getting them cleaned and comforted. Some of them had calmed down and snuggled with him, for which he was happy and touched, but there was a coldness in his soul that would not go away. If anything, it had been increasing as the time dragged by.
Yuki had finally told him, in a matter-of-fact way, what had happened to Seph. Now, as he sat on the couch with two kids sleeping on his lap, her words came back to haunt him again.
"He got us free from where we were stuck, and he asked us if we could stand. Then something blew up and he pushed us away. I looked and saw this big fire thing taking him along, and then he was gone." Then she had shrugged, as if it did not bother her at all, and had gone into the kitchen to eat.
Zack was worried about her. He knew from Ms. Shidou that she had already seen too much death in her short life. Seeing what had happened to Seph had no doubt horrified her, but she could not express her emotions. Instead she had locked them away, where they would probably return to torment her in the future. Ryou, meanwhile, had cried himself to sleep. Maybe hopefully, things would look better for him when he awakened.
It was hard to even imagine things seeming better as time went on. Zack would go to sleep eventually, and then he would wake up, maybe not remembering everything at first and thinking of going to find Seph and see if he was awake. And then he would remember the horrible truth---that he could not find Seph, that he never would, because Seph had died in the fire.
He reached up, running his hands down his face. It would be such a horrific way to go---carried by the flames, consumed alive, feeling the flesh being burned and melted. . . . He could not even stand to think of it. But he did. Time and again the images would return to him, more graphic and sickening with each replay. Once he had heard Seph screaming in his mind. He had sobbed then, unable to stop himself.
He had let Seph down.
Yet he knew Seph would have wanted him to get the kids out first of all. He had managed to do that, for which he was grateful. But he had wanted to save everyone, and certainly his best friend.
He leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. Was there any possible chance Seph had survived? Yuki had not said that she had seen his body burned, even though that was the implication with "he was gone." But what if he really had been just "gone", disappeared? He could have fallen through a wall or something . . . maybe.
He frowned. Why wouldn't anyone have seen Seph, if he had crashed through the outside wall? Yuki had mentioned the direction Seph had been carried in, and it sounded like it was the back side of the room. Past that, there were the grounds and . . .
His eyes widened. The backyard made a sharp drop off over a cliff, hill thing. Ms. Shidou had told them about it, and how she always had to tell the kids not to get too close to the edge. Zack had peered over, out of curiosity. It had been a very steep descent, strewn with rocks all along the way. A village of boulders had lain at the bottom. If Seph had been shot out of the orphanage and down there, would he have survived the fall even if he had gotten through the fire?
A fist clenched. He was going to find out. Seph might still be alive, and Zack would not rest until he knew the absolute truth.
"Commander Fair?"
He looked up with a start as Ms. Shidou entered the room. Her eyes displayed a mixture of confusion and hesitation, as if she was unsure of whether to stay. But then she gave a slow nod, half to herself, and looked into his bewildered eyes.
"I just received a call from my sister's husband, out at the site," she said, her tone slow.
Zack tensed. Had they found Seph's charred remains? They might want him to go try to make a positive identification if they had, and would he even be able to go through with it? To see Seph like that, not even recognizable . . . it was too sickening and heart-twisting to think about. But on the other hand . . . why had she looked so confused?
"Yeah?" he said at last. "Did they . . . find anything?" The words caught in his throat.
Ms. Shidou shook her head. "That's the thing. There were no bodies in the wreckage at all, or even any possible trace." She paused. "He wondered if you would want to go out there and look for yourself."
Hope began to wash over the devastated SOLDIER. Maybe he was right. Maybe Seph had gotten out, and was laying somewhere hurt and in need of help. He stared at the director, his lavender eyes shining and bright.
"You bet I want to go out there!" he exclaimed, barely able to keep his voice down. He looked at the kids, who were still sound asleep against his lap. "But what about these guys?" After everything they had been through, the last thing he wanted was to disturb them. Still, Seph needed him. He had to get to Seph.
A trace of a smile came over the woman's tired features. "They're heavy sleepers, especially Ryou," she said. Reaching down, she lifted him into her arms with gentleness. He mumbled something unintelligible, snuggling into her embrace as he again slipped into a deeper doze.
Zack grinned. Carefully he lifted Ellysa away from him, bringing her head to rest on a nearby pillow. She clutched it in her small hands, blissful in her ignorant sleep. As Zack eased himself upright, she did not make a sound.
He looked back to Ms. Shidou, his expression sobering again. "Thanks for letting me know," he said. "You and your family have been really good to Seph and me."
She nodded. "Not all SOLDIERs are demons," she said. "I just wish more of the people here would realize that." She shifted Ryou as she watched Zack going for his sword. It was unfortunate that it was really a necessity for him to carry it, even on a non-combat mission. At any time he could meet someone hostile who would insist on fighting him.
"I hope this won't just be a let-down for you," she spoke again. "There could be other reasons as to why they didn't find a body. . . ."
He looked over as he placed the weapon on his back. His eyes flickered, displaying the doubts he still held. "I know," he said, growing quiet as he headed for the door. "And I'm really praying hard to whatever God is up there that it's not any of them."
She nodded once more, observing as he opened the door and stepped out into the night. "And I'll pray that wherever your friend is, he'll be watched over."
Zack paused, his hand on the doorknob. In the shadows, he smiled. "Thanks," he said. "Seph will need it." He looked out at the lights of the village. "And I will, too."
****
Sephiroth definitely needed it.
He had been growing all the more ill as he staggered from one house to the next, asking for the use of a telephone---and later on, spare bandages as well. Some people were not at home, or if they were, they were refusing to answer their doors. He was inclined to believe the latter.
Some of those he talked to regarded him more out of fear than hate, and they would either shake their heads upon hearing his request, or else slam the door on him. At other homes he was met with curses and anger. One farmer had chased him away with a rake, and Sephiroth did not doubt that the man would have used it. In his weakened condition, he had not had any choice but to flee. Twice he had stumbled and fallen, and when the gate had slammed behind him, he had almost crashed to his knees again.
He grimaced, reaching a hand to his side. Apparently he had bruised it seriously when he had hit the rocks, and the damage had been making it manifest the longer he walked. Struggling to run from the rake had not helped, either.
If Zack was there, he would be indignant and horrified at the cruel and inhumane treatment Seph was receiving. And if it was Zack wandering helpless, Sephiroth would experience a rush of those same feelings. As it was, by now he was just weary of the whole matter. And weary in general.
He could barely stand. He had to limp with caution over peoples' walkways and down the road, and pause whenever the double vision would sweep over him. His arm was definitely bleeding again, and he was still soaked through. The temperatures had dropped far more than was even safe in his state, and pneumonia seemed a probable consequence, on top of everything else.
There was one home up ahead he could try. An old woman was out in her yard, maybe tending to her plants after the rain. She straightened, looking up as Sephiroth approached. Her stance stiffened, but she did not make a move to retreat inside. Would she possibly help him? Maybe, having lived longer, she would not have the hatred or the fear of the younger generation. And on the other hand, it could be more pronounced, especially if she had lost family during the war.
As he staggered to her gate, he grasped the white pickets with trembling hands to steady himself. His vision was utterly swimming. There were two, no, four, women walking towards him. A cough escaped his lips, unbidden as it was drawn out from the cold. His entire body was shuddering. The fence was the only thing supporting him now.
His pride and dignity were all but spent as he stared into the unreadable eyes. The pain and the sickness were overwhelming him after all this time, and he could not take it any longer.
"Please," he choked out, the desperation and anguish unable to be concealed, "please help me. . . ." It was a show of agony that he would regret in the future . . . if he had a future at all. Right now there was only the cold, calloused present.
The woman gazed at him with wide eyes, as if disbelieving he could still be alive. With careful, precise steps, she made her way to the fence. He was slumped over it so far that she did not have to look very high to see into his face. Slowly she reached out with a wrinkled hand, brushing the blood-streaked bangs away from his right cheek.
"You poor man," she whispered, her voice trembling.
He stared at her, tensing at the feel of her fingers touching his skin. Was she actually going to show him kindness? Would she not behave as the other villagers had done, pushing and shoving and slamming doors in his face? She acted sympathetic, but would she remain so, if she knew his identity?
"Do you . . . know who I am?" He did not want his hopes to be raised, only to have them dashed in pieces. If she would abandon him, he would rather know it now, instead of believing that she would be his salvation.
She gave a slow nod. "General Sephiroth," she answered. Behind her, the wind howled through the trees. The storm was gathering momentum. Worriedly she glanced over her shoulder at the waving branches, then up at the graying sky.
He sagged further against the fence, being as careful as he could to avoid the wooden pickets piercing his flesh. "Will you help me, despite that?" If she would not, it did not look like he would be going anywhere anyway. His shuddering knees were threatening to send him to the ground. And there he would likely stay.
She opened her mouth to reply as thunder boomed overhead. With a visible start, she raised her gaze once more before looking back to him. Regret shone in her brown eyes. "I would," she replied, "except I'm afraid that you being here is angering the gods. If I help you, my family might be punished for it."
He stared in disbelief, the growing vapor of senselessness clearing just enough to process her words. What superstitious nonsense was this? Didn't religions teach that people should assist each other? "What kind of god would want his subjects to ignore those in need?!" he cried, unable to hold back his consternation.
Her gaze traveled over his mangled body, tears coming to her eyes as she took in each ailment. "Please, try to understand!" she exclaimed. "I can't let anything happen to my family. My daughter just had a new baby . . . a beautiful baby. . . . If something went wrong and she was punished because I'd taken Wutai's enemy into my home, I . . . I would never forgive myself. . . ."
He could hardly comprehend what he was hearing. Of course he had heard about people with such beliefs, but seeing was much different---particularly when he was the one in dire need who was being refused.
"A god . . . who would punish someone for saving a life . . . wouldn't even be fit to be a god," he managed to say.
The lightning flashed without warning, as if in response.
At least the woman was convinced of that. "You mustn't say such things!" she said. "Such blaspheme will surely be answered, on your head as well as my family's." She began to lower her hand, backing up on the grass. "Surely someone will be willing to take the chance and help you. I'm afraid I'm not brave enough." Her voice lowered, carrying a wistful and truly saddened tone.
"I've been to every house on this side of town," he said, gripping the lumber. His arms were shaking all the way up, and some of the red trails from the knife wound were sneaking over his knuckles and between his fingers. "If you won't help me, I'll die."
She paused, staring at him with wide eyes. For a moment, she looked as though she would relent. But the sudden downpour snapped her from her indecision. Shaking her head, she turned and fled to her door, disappearing into the warm house as she shut the entrance behind her.
The weakened shoulders slumped. He was foolish. He had thought that she might actually help him. Those who did not hate him were too afraid to do anything. If he was not in such a sorry shape, he could have threatened to have them punished for treason against Shinra. But when he was half-dead, bleeding over their ground, it would have sounded a joke.
Slowly he released the fence. What now? The rain was beating down so hard, stinging his back in an almost unbearable way. He could scarcely see several yards in front of him. Would he be able to walk any more at all? Where would he even go? It would continue to be the same story. If he could only reach that inn, or a telephone, anything at all that would help him . . . .!
He turned to his left. That was the way he had been traveling. Maybe, if he kept going, he would be able to find the inn. Maybe Zack would be there, safe and sound, and everything would be alright.
Taking several shaking steps forward, he plunged into a puddle. Before he could even get his bearings he was falling, down, down. . . . He could only bring his arms out to brace himself as he hit the miserable ground. And then he could not even move. His legs refused to obey the command to bend, to allow him to begin rising. He pushed hard with his hands, but it did not make a difference. When he managed to lift himself a few inches, his elbows buckled underneath him and sent him into the dirt and weeds again.
It would be so easy, to just give up now. He would not find help, even if he did succeed in standing. They were all fine with letting him die, as long as it was not in their yards. It was hopeless.
What if Zack was somewhere in the same treacherous predicament? What if he was seriously wounded and going from house to house, pleading for help?
His eyes snapped open. He did not want to die. He would not die. This would be a most unfitting and ignoble ending, for SOLDIER's General. And Zack . . . what if Zack was alright, but later learned what had happened? He would never forgive himself for not finding Sephiroth in time.
His hand shaking, he stretched his left arm as far as humanly possible, flailing for the dirt in front of him. His fingers dug in, and he was able to pull his body up to that point. He lay there for what could have been five minutes or five seconds, calling the remainder of his energy to him. Then he reached out again with his left hand.
This time he arched his back as he slid forward, in spite of its protests. Somehow he managed to pull himself to his knees. Then he rested again, breathing heavily at the exertion. Narrowing his eyes, he placed his hands on the ground and eased himself ahead.
He could no longer walk, but he could crawl.
****
Zack let out a yelp of surprise as the sky split open, pouring its contents over the houses, the road, and him. He dashed forward, raising his arms over his head as scant protection from the outburst. He could see the lights of the clean-up crew just ahead, a beacon in the storm. Now all that would be left would be running uphill to where they were, at the remains of the orphanage. At least this side of the slope would be much easier to ascend than the other side, he decided.
Was Seph out in this? He swallowed hard. If Seph was alive, there was no doubt that he was seriously hurt. And this storm would make it worse. Would someone have found and helped him, anyone at all? He wanted to think so. He wanted with all his heart for it to be the truth. But the way those people had been talking earlier did not give him much hope. They had sounded as though they would gladly leave Seph for dead. And though he wanted to tell himself that it was just words, that they would do the right thing if the situation was presented to them, that assurance would not come.
But not everyone here was like that. Ms. Shidou and her family proved it. Seph could have found someone kind.
"Ho!"
He came back to the present, looking to where a figure was wildly waving its arms. The voice was familiar. It was probably Ms. Shidou's brother-in-law, Jono Houoji. Taking an arm away from his head, Zack waved in reply.
"Hey!" he called, running the rest of the way to where half a dozen men were standing in front of the building. Coming to a halt, he did not even stop talking to catch his breath. "Did you find anything?" he blurted, gulping in air once he had spoken.
The men shook their heads. "Nothing," reported Jono. "No charred body, nothing that could pass for his heavy armor. . . ." He paused, giving Zack a grim look. "The kids did say there was an explosion," he said with seriousness. "Not finding anything at all could really be worse."
Zack ran his tongue over his lips, forcing down the cotton that was cultivating in his throat. "I can't think that," he said at last. "Seph wouldn't be . . ." He shook his head. The possibility had crossed his mind far too many times during his run here, and he had always pushed it to the farthest corner. It would not be true. No!
One of the other men stepped forward. "Of course, it will take days to go through everything," he admitted with reluctance, "but we also haven't found . . . you know . . . teeth samples, or anything like that. . . ."
Zack looked to him with gratitude in his eyes. The guy was trying to make him feel better, and well, it was working. He would take even the smallest particle of hope and cling to it with all his might.
"What if he got pushed right out of the building from the force of the blast, and he fell down that rocky path?" he asked with urgence.
The men looked at each other, exchanging unintelligible messages. At last Jono turned back to Zack. "If that happened," he said slowly, "the fall could have killed him."
Zack nodded. "I know," he agreed. "But did you look? If you haven't looked, we should, right now!" Without even waiting for an answer, he snatched a nearby lantern and began again to run. He ran around the ghastly blackened skeleton, not looking at it even once. He ran over the stubby grass and scattered dirt and mud. He ran until he came to the edge of the drop. Several small pebbles skittered down as he stopped, jarred loose by his boots.
Taking a deep breath, he held the light high and stared down. From this angle, he could clearly see the boulders below. Most of them were jagged and deadly, and his heart leaped to his mouth again. If Seph had hit one of those. . . .
But there was no indication that he had hit anything. There was not a body among the rocks. There was no sign of anyone having crashed down there at any time that night.
Zack narrowed his eyes. He still refused to give up. "Seph!" he screamed into the night. His voice echoed back to him ominously. There was not an answering cry. If Seph had fallen down there, he would have landed on or near the rocks. And if he had been able to get up and move, could he have gotten very far? What if he had collapsed unconscious somewhere out of Zack's sight? He needed to get down there.
The others were running up to him now. Their footsteps stopped, and he looked over at them. All looked sad, as though they were afraid that Zack was deluding himself. Jono shook his head.
"There's no one down there, Commander Fair. We already tried to look for a body."
Zack frowned. "But did you go right down there?" he demanded.
Jono blinked in surprise. "Well, no . . ."
"That's what I wanna do!" Zack declared. "Is there any way to get down there besides the steep route?"
Jono sighed. "A very round-about way," he admitted. "We would have to drive to the edge of town, then turn right, and right again. But the trail there will probably be very muddy from this storm. The truck might get stuck in it."
Zack handed him the lantern. "Then I'm climbing down!" he said. "I don't care how steep it is. I can make it!"
One of the other men gawked at him. "But even if you find him, how would you get back up?" he demanded.
"I'll figure that out when I get there!" Zack replied.
As he knelt down to ease himself over the edge, a small object reflecting the glare from the light caught his eye. A gasp left his lips as he closed his fingers around it and brought it into plain view. A rectangle, with buttons on the lower half and a broken screen at the top. . . .
"Seph's phone!" he cried.
The men stared at him.
"This is Seph's phone!" Zack cried again, holding it up for them to see. "He must have lost it in the fall!"
Slowly Jono took it from him, turning it over in his hands. A shocked oath left his lips.
Zack looked out at the area below, a wide grin coming over his features. Now there was more than a particle of hope.
****
He had been dragging himself for what felt an eternity. Was it the same night? Week? Year? Time was lost now. Everything was lost, except the thoughts that had kept him going ever since he had regained consciousness on that rock. He had to live. He had to find someplace where he would be helped. He had to find Zack.
The scenery had grown more dense and thick. There were many more trees here, but he was still passing buildings now and then. Up ahead there was light. Some other populated area . . . another town? No . . . a large building. He was crawling through the gates now. It seemed . . . familiar, somewhere in the recesses of his mind, but complete recognition would not come. It was a location from another lifetime . . . a war-torn lifetime. He pulled himself through the spacious courtyard, staring at the goal in front of him as it inched closer and closer.
So many steps. . . . If he could just make it up the stairs and get to the top. . . . Shakily he reached out, grasping the second to last step with his left hand. Placing his right hand next to it, he pulled himself to the bottom stair. Then he reached up again, and again. His motions were mechanical now. He had to gain the top. . . . Someone would be there. Maybe someone would help him. . . . Maybe Zack would be there. . . .
Confusion passed across his face for a brief moment. No, Zack would not be there. He knew it, somehow, even though he could not recall what this building was.
His vision was swimming again. The stair was supposed to be right in front of him, but when he extended his hand for it, he only snatched thin air. He tried a second time, with the same result. He narrowed his eyes. This was unacceptable.
The third time he tried, his hand caught hold of the white stone. Relief washed over him as he pulled himself up. He was at the top. He was there, but his strength was gone. He could not swoon! He would not wake up if he passed out now. He had to keep going. Reaching for the ground in front of him, he struggled to hoist himself onto the next level.
Footsteps were running towards him. With bleary eyes he tried to crane his neck upward, to see who was coming, but it was useless. All he could make out were the petite slippers. And the footsteps had been light. It was either a woman or a child who had come.
"What happened to you?!" a young voice exclaimed in disbelief and amazement.
His lips parted, but the effort to form words was in vain. He could go no farther, nor do anything more. His head sank onto the stone as his body began to go limp.
"Yuffie, what are you doing out at this hour?"
"There's some guy all messed up on the stairs!"
Yuffie . . . Godo Kisaragi's daughter. . . .
Oblivion claimed him.
Canon: Original game canon, Crisis Core canon
Theme + Number: #6 - Cold; #73 - Prayer
Claim: General Relationship - Sephiroth and Zack Fair
Characters/Pairings included: Yuffie (cameo), supporting OCs
Rating: T/PG-13
Warnings: Blood, violence, negligence
Summary: Sephiroth continues to wander as he comes to the end of his strength. Meanwhile, Zack receives a glimmer of hope for his friend's survival.
Spoilers: None.
Cross-posted to: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3802760/3/Shine_Until_Tomorrow
Notes: The second scene broke my heart, I swear. I could barely write it.
Chapter Three
For the past hours, Zack had felt numb. He had tried to help put out the fire, but the villagers had not wanted his services. He had escorted Ms. Shidou to her sister's home, carrying kids in his arms and on his back, and had tried to help with getting them cleaned and comforted. Some of them had calmed down and snuggled with him, for which he was happy and touched, but there was a coldness in his soul that would not go away. If anything, it had been increasing as the time dragged by.
Yuki had finally told him, in a matter-of-fact way, what had happened to Seph. Now, as he sat on the couch with two kids sleeping on his lap, her words came back to haunt him again.
"He got us free from where we were stuck, and he asked us if we could stand. Then something blew up and he pushed us away. I looked and saw this big fire thing taking him along, and then he was gone." Then she had shrugged, as if it did not bother her at all, and had gone into the kitchen to eat.
Zack was worried about her. He knew from Ms. Shidou that she had already seen too much death in her short life. Seeing what had happened to Seph had no doubt horrified her, but she could not express her emotions. Instead she had locked them away, where they would probably return to torment her in the future. Ryou, meanwhile, had cried himself to sleep. Maybe hopefully, things would look better for him when he awakened.
It was hard to even imagine things seeming better as time went on. Zack would go to sleep eventually, and then he would wake up, maybe not remembering everything at first and thinking of going to find Seph and see if he was awake. And then he would remember the horrible truth---that he could not find Seph, that he never would, because Seph had died in the fire.
He reached up, running his hands down his face. It would be such a horrific way to go---carried by the flames, consumed alive, feeling the flesh being burned and melted. . . . He could not even stand to think of it. But he did. Time and again the images would return to him, more graphic and sickening with each replay. Once he had heard Seph screaming in his mind. He had sobbed then, unable to stop himself.
He had let Seph down.
Yet he knew Seph would have wanted him to get the kids out first of all. He had managed to do that, for which he was grateful. But he had wanted to save everyone, and certainly his best friend.
He leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. Was there any possible chance Seph had survived? Yuki had not said that she had seen his body burned, even though that was the implication with "he was gone." But what if he really had been just "gone", disappeared? He could have fallen through a wall or something . . . maybe.
He frowned. Why wouldn't anyone have seen Seph, if he had crashed through the outside wall? Yuki had mentioned the direction Seph had been carried in, and it sounded like it was the back side of the room. Past that, there were the grounds and . . .
His eyes widened. The backyard made a sharp drop off over a cliff, hill thing. Ms. Shidou had told them about it, and how she always had to tell the kids not to get too close to the edge. Zack had peered over, out of curiosity. It had been a very steep descent, strewn with rocks all along the way. A village of boulders had lain at the bottom. If Seph had been shot out of the orphanage and down there, would he have survived the fall even if he had gotten through the fire?
A fist clenched. He was going to find out. Seph might still be alive, and Zack would not rest until he knew the absolute truth.
"Commander Fair?"
He looked up with a start as Ms. Shidou entered the room. Her eyes displayed a mixture of confusion and hesitation, as if she was unsure of whether to stay. But then she gave a slow nod, half to herself, and looked into his bewildered eyes.
"I just received a call from my sister's husband, out at the site," she said, her tone slow.
Zack tensed. Had they found Seph's charred remains? They might want him to go try to make a positive identification if they had, and would he even be able to go through with it? To see Seph like that, not even recognizable . . . it was too sickening and heart-twisting to think about. But on the other hand . . . why had she looked so confused?
"Yeah?" he said at last. "Did they . . . find anything?" The words caught in his throat.
Ms. Shidou shook her head. "That's the thing. There were no bodies in the wreckage at all, or even any possible trace." She paused. "He wondered if you would want to go out there and look for yourself."
Hope began to wash over the devastated SOLDIER. Maybe he was right. Maybe Seph had gotten out, and was laying somewhere hurt and in need of help. He stared at the director, his lavender eyes shining and bright.
"You bet I want to go out there!" he exclaimed, barely able to keep his voice down. He looked at the kids, who were still sound asleep against his lap. "But what about these guys?" After everything they had been through, the last thing he wanted was to disturb them. Still, Seph needed him. He had to get to Seph.
A trace of a smile came over the woman's tired features. "They're heavy sleepers, especially Ryou," she said. Reaching down, she lifted him into her arms with gentleness. He mumbled something unintelligible, snuggling into her embrace as he again slipped into a deeper doze.
Zack grinned. Carefully he lifted Ellysa away from him, bringing her head to rest on a nearby pillow. She clutched it in her small hands, blissful in her ignorant sleep. As Zack eased himself upright, she did not make a sound.
He looked back to Ms. Shidou, his expression sobering again. "Thanks for letting me know," he said. "You and your family have been really good to Seph and me."
She nodded. "Not all SOLDIERs are demons," she said. "I just wish more of the people here would realize that." She shifted Ryou as she watched Zack going for his sword. It was unfortunate that it was really a necessity for him to carry it, even on a non-combat mission. At any time he could meet someone hostile who would insist on fighting him.
"I hope this won't just be a let-down for you," she spoke again. "There could be other reasons as to why they didn't find a body. . . ."
He looked over as he placed the weapon on his back. His eyes flickered, displaying the doubts he still held. "I know," he said, growing quiet as he headed for the door. "And I'm really praying hard to whatever God is up there that it's not any of them."
She nodded once more, observing as he opened the door and stepped out into the night. "And I'll pray that wherever your friend is, he'll be watched over."
Zack paused, his hand on the doorknob. In the shadows, he smiled. "Thanks," he said. "Seph will need it." He looked out at the lights of the village. "And I will, too."
****
Sephiroth definitely needed it.
He had been growing all the more ill as he staggered from one house to the next, asking for the use of a telephone---and later on, spare bandages as well. Some people were not at home, or if they were, they were refusing to answer their doors. He was inclined to believe the latter.
Some of those he talked to regarded him more out of fear than hate, and they would either shake their heads upon hearing his request, or else slam the door on him. At other homes he was met with curses and anger. One farmer had chased him away with a rake, and Sephiroth did not doubt that the man would have used it. In his weakened condition, he had not had any choice but to flee. Twice he had stumbled and fallen, and when the gate had slammed behind him, he had almost crashed to his knees again.
He grimaced, reaching a hand to his side. Apparently he had bruised it seriously when he had hit the rocks, and the damage had been making it manifest the longer he walked. Struggling to run from the rake had not helped, either.
If Zack was there, he would be indignant and horrified at the cruel and inhumane treatment Seph was receiving. And if it was Zack wandering helpless, Sephiroth would experience a rush of those same feelings. As it was, by now he was just weary of the whole matter. And weary in general.
He could barely stand. He had to limp with caution over peoples' walkways and down the road, and pause whenever the double vision would sweep over him. His arm was definitely bleeding again, and he was still soaked through. The temperatures had dropped far more than was even safe in his state, and pneumonia seemed a probable consequence, on top of everything else.
There was one home up ahead he could try. An old woman was out in her yard, maybe tending to her plants after the rain. She straightened, looking up as Sephiroth approached. Her stance stiffened, but she did not make a move to retreat inside. Would she possibly help him? Maybe, having lived longer, she would not have the hatred or the fear of the younger generation. And on the other hand, it could be more pronounced, especially if she had lost family during the war.
As he staggered to her gate, he grasped the white pickets with trembling hands to steady himself. His vision was utterly swimming. There were two, no, four, women walking towards him. A cough escaped his lips, unbidden as it was drawn out from the cold. His entire body was shuddering. The fence was the only thing supporting him now.
His pride and dignity were all but spent as he stared into the unreadable eyes. The pain and the sickness were overwhelming him after all this time, and he could not take it any longer.
"Please," he choked out, the desperation and anguish unable to be concealed, "please help me. . . ." It was a show of agony that he would regret in the future . . . if he had a future at all. Right now there was only the cold, calloused present.
The woman gazed at him with wide eyes, as if disbelieving he could still be alive. With careful, precise steps, she made her way to the fence. He was slumped over it so far that she did not have to look very high to see into his face. Slowly she reached out with a wrinkled hand, brushing the blood-streaked bangs away from his right cheek.
"You poor man," she whispered, her voice trembling.
He stared at her, tensing at the feel of her fingers touching his skin. Was she actually going to show him kindness? Would she not behave as the other villagers had done, pushing and shoving and slamming doors in his face? She acted sympathetic, but would she remain so, if she knew his identity?
"Do you . . . know who I am?" He did not want his hopes to be raised, only to have them dashed in pieces. If she would abandon him, he would rather know it now, instead of believing that she would be his salvation.
She gave a slow nod. "General Sephiroth," she answered. Behind her, the wind howled through the trees. The storm was gathering momentum. Worriedly she glanced over her shoulder at the waving branches, then up at the graying sky.
He sagged further against the fence, being as careful as he could to avoid the wooden pickets piercing his flesh. "Will you help me, despite that?" If she would not, it did not look like he would be going anywhere anyway. His shuddering knees were threatening to send him to the ground. And there he would likely stay.
She opened her mouth to reply as thunder boomed overhead. With a visible start, she raised her gaze once more before looking back to him. Regret shone in her brown eyes. "I would," she replied, "except I'm afraid that you being here is angering the gods. If I help you, my family might be punished for it."
He stared in disbelief, the growing vapor of senselessness clearing just enough to process her words. What superstitious nonsense was this? Didn't religions teach that people should assist each other? "What kind of god would want his subjects to ignore those in need?!" he cried, unable to hold back his consternation.
Her gaze traveled over his mangled body, tears coming to her eyes as she took in each ailment. "Please, try to understand!" she exclaimed. "I can't let anything happen to my family. My daughter just had a new baby . . . a beautiful baby. . . . If something went wrong and she was punished because I'd taken Wutai's enemy into my home, I . . . I would never forgive myself. . . ."
He could hardly comprehend what he was hearing. Of course he had heard about people with such beliefs, but seeing was much different---particularly when he was the one in dire need who was being refused.
"A god . . . who would punish someone for saving a life . . . wouldn't even be fit to be a god," he managed to say.
The lightning flashed without warning, as if in response.
At least the woman was convinced of that. "You mustn't say such things!" she said. "Such blaspheme will surely be answered, on your head as well as my family's." She began to lower her hand, backing up on the grass. "Surely someone will be willing to take the chance and help you. I'm afraid I'm not brave enough." Her voice lowered, carrying a wistful and truly saddened tone.
"I've been to every house on this side of town," he said, gripping the lumber. His arms were shaking all the way up, and some of the red trails from the knife wound were sneaking over his knuckles and between his fingers. "If you won't help me, I'll die."
She paused, staring at him with wide eyes. For a moment, she looked as though she would relent. But the sudden downpour snapped her from her indecision. Shaking her head, she turned and fled to her door, disappearing into the warm house as she shut the entrance behind her.
The weakened shoulders slumped. He was foolish. He had thought that she might actually help him. Those who did not hate him were too afraid to do anything. If he was not in such a sorry shape, he could have threatened to have them punished for treason against Shinra. But when he was half-dead, bleeding over their ground, it would have sounded a joke.
Slowly he released the fence. What now? The rain was beating down so hard, stinging his back in an almost unbearable way. He could scarcely see several yards in front of him. Would he be able to walk any more at all? Where would he even go? It would continue to be the same story. If he could only reach that inn, or a telephone, anything at all that would help him . . . .!
He turned to his left. That was the way he had been traveling. Maybe, if he kept going, he would be able to find the inn. Maybe Zack would be there, safe and sound, and everything would be alright.
Taking several shaking steps forward, he plunged into a puddle. Before he could even get his bearings he was falling, down, down. . . . He could only bring his arms out to brace himself as he hit the miserable ground. And then he could not even move. His legs refused to obey the command to bend, to allow him to begin rising. He pushed hard with his hands, but it did not make a difference. When he managed to lift himself a few inches, his elbows buckled underneath him and sent him into the dirt and weeds again.
It would be so easy, to just give up now. He would not find help, even if he did succeed in standing. They were all fine with letting him die, as long as it was not in their yards. It was hopeless.
What if Zack was somewhere in the same treacherous predicament? What if he was seriously wounded and going from house to house, pleading for help?
His eyes snapped open. He did not want to die. He would not die. This would be a most unfitting and ignoble ending, for SOLDIER's General. And Zack . . . what if Zack was alright, but later learned what had happened? He would never forgive himself for not finding Sephiroth in time.
His hand shaking, he stretched his left arm as far as humanly possible, flailing for the dirt in front of him. His fingers dug in, and he was able to pull his body up to that point. He lay there for what could have been five minutes or five seconds, calling the remainder of his energy to him. Then he reached out again with his left hand.
This time he arched his back as he slid forward, in spite of its protests. Somehow he managed to pull himself to his knees. Then he rested again, breathing heavily at the exertion. Narrowing his eyes, he placed his hands on the ground and eased himself ahead.
He could no longer walk, but he could crawl.
****
Zack let out a yelp of surprise as the sky split open, pouring its contents over the houses, the road, and him. He dashed forward, raising his arms over his head as scant protection from the outburst. He could see the lights of the clean-up crew just ahead, a beacon in the storm. Now all that would be left would be running uphill to where they were, at the remains of the orphanage. At least this side of the slope would be much easier to ascend than the other side, he decided.
Was Seph out in this? He swallowed hard. If Seph was alive, there was no doubt that he was seriously hurt. And this storm would make it worse. Would someone have found and helped him, anyone at all? He wanted to think so. He wanted with all his heart for it to be the truth. But the way those people had been talking earlier did not give him much hope. They had sounded as though they would gladly leave Seph for dead. And though he wanted to tell himself that it was just words, that they would do the right thing if the situation was presented to them, that assurance would not come.
But not everyone here was like that. Ms. Shidou and her family proved it. Seph could have found someone kind.
"Ho!"
He came back to the present, looking to where a figure was wildly waving its arms. The voice was familiar. It was probably Ms. Shidou's brother-in-law, Jono Houoji. Taking an arm away from his head, Zack waved in reply.
"Hey!" he called, running the rest of the way to where half a dozen men were standing in front of the building. Coming to a halt, he did not even stop talking to catch his breath. "Did you find anything?" he blurted, gulping in air once he had spoken.
The men shook their heads. "Nothing," reported Jono. "No charred body, nothing that could pass for his heavy armor. . . ." He paused, giving Zack a grim look. "The kids did say there was an explosion," he said with seriousness. "Not finding anything at all could really be worse."
Zack ran his tongue over his lips, forcing down the cotton that was cultivating in his throat. "I can't think that," he said at last. "Seph wouldn't be . . ." He shook his head. The possibility had crossed his mind far too many times during his run here, and he had always pushed it to the farthest corner. It would not be true. No!
One of the other men stepped forward. "Of course, it will take days to go through everything," he admitted with reluctance, "but we also haven't found . . . you know . . . teeth samples, or anything like that. . . ."
Zack looked to him with gratitude in his eyes. The guy was trying to make him feel better, and well, it was working. He would take even the smallest particle of hope and cling to it with all his might.
"What if he got pushed right out of the building from the force of the blast, and he fell down that rocky path?" he asked with urgence.
The men looked at each other, exchanging unintelligible messages. At last Jono turned back to Zack. "If that happened," he said slowly, "the fall could have killed him."
Zack nodded. "I know," he agreed. "But did you look? If you haven't looked, we should, right now!" Without even waiting for an answer, he snatched a nearby lantern and began again to run. He ran around the ghastly blackened skeleton, not looking at it even once. He ran over the stubby grass and scattered dirt and mud. He ran until he came to the edge of the drop. Several small pebbles skittered down as he stopped, jarred loose by his boots.
Taking a deep breath, he held the light high and stared down. From this angle, he could clearly see the boulders below. Most of them were jagged and deadly, and his heart leaped to his mouth again. If Seph had hit one of those. . . .
But there was no indication that he had hit anything. There was not a body among the rocks. There was no sign of anyone having crashed down there at any time that night.
Zack narrowed his eyes. He still refused to give up. "Seph!" he screamed into the night. His voice echoed back to him ominously. There was not an answering cry. If Seph had fallen down there, he would have landed on or near the rocks. And if he had been able to get up and move, could he have gotten very far? What if he had collapsed unconscious somewhere out of Zack's sight? He needed to get down there.
The others were running up to him now. Their footsteps stopped, and he looked over at them. All looked sad, as though they were afraid that Zack was deluding himself. Jono shook his head.
"There's no one down there, Commander Fair. We already tried to look for a body."
Zack frowned. "But did you go right down there?" he demanded.
Jono blinked in surprise. "Well, no . . ."
"That's what I wanna do!" Zack declared. "Is there any way to get down there besides the steep route?"
Jono sighed. "A very round-about way," he admitted. "We would have to drive to the edge of town, then turn right, and right again. But the trail there will probably be very muddy from this storm. The truck might get stuck in it."
Zack handed him the lantern. "Then I'm climbing down!" he said. "I don't care how steep it is. I can make it!"
One of the other men gawked at him. "But even if you find him, how would you get back up?" he demanded.
"I'll figure that out when I get there!" Zack replied.
As he knelt down to ease himself over the edge, a small object reflecting the glare from the light caught his eye. A gasp left his lips as he closed his fingers around it and brought it into plain view. A rectangle, with buttons on the lower half and a broken screen at the top. . . .
"Seph's phone!" he cried.
The men stared at him.
"This is Seph's phone!" Zack cried again, holding it up for them to see. "He must have lost it in the fall!"
Slowly Jono took it from him, turning it over in his hands. A shocked oath left his lips.
Zack looked out at the area below, a wide grin coming over his features. Now there was more than a particle of hope.
****
He had been dragging himself for what felt an eternity. Was it the same night? Week? Year? Time was lost now. Everything was lost, except the thoughts that had kept him going ever since he had regained consciousness on that rock. He had to live. He had to find someplace where he would be helped. He had to find Zack.
The scenery had grown more dense and thick. There were many more trees here, but he was still passing buildings now and then. Up ahead there was light. Some other populated area . . . another town? No . . . a large building. He was crawling through the gates now. It seemed . . . familiar, somewhere in the recesses of his mind, but complete recognition would not come. It was a location from another lifetime . . . a war-torn lifetime. He pulled himself through the spacious courtyard, staring at the goal in front of him as it inched closer and closer.
So many steps. . . . If he could just make it up the stairs and get to the top. . . . Shakily he reached out, grasping the second to last step with his left hand. Placing his right hand next to it, he pulled himself to the bottom stair. Then he reached up again, and again. His motions were mechanical now. He had to gain the top. . . . Someone would be there. Maybe someone would help him. . . . Maybe Zack would be there. . . .
Confusion passed across his face for a brief moment. No, Zack would not be there. He knew it, somehow, even though he could not recall what this building was.
His vision was swimming again. The stair was supposed to be right in front of him, but when he extended his hand for it, he only snatched thin air. He tried a second time, with the same result. He narrowed his eyes. This was unacceptable.
The third time he tried, his hand caught hold of the white stone. Relief washed over him as he pulled himself up. He was at the top. He was there, but his strength was gone. He could not swoon! He would not wake up if he passed out now. He had to keep going. Reaching for the ground in front of him, he struggled to hoist himself onto the next level.
Footsteps were running towards him. With bleary eyes he tried to crane his neck upward, to see who was coming, but it was useless. All he could make out were the petite slippers. And the footsteps had been light. It was either a woman or a child who had come.
"What happened to you?!" a young voice exclaimed in disbelief and amazement.
His lips parted, but the effort to form words was in vain. He could go no farther, nor do anything more. His head sank onto the stone as his body began to go limp.
"Yuffie, what are you doing out at this hour?"
"There's some guy all messed up on the stairs!"
Yuffie . . . Godo Kisaragi's daughter. . . .
Oblivion claimed him.