Entry #8

[umberela]

Title: Metamorphosis
Pairing: Yesung/Ryeowook
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Crossover with the Final Fantasy 7/Advent Children universe. Set 4 years after the events of Final Fantasy 7, Yesung and Ryeowook have to go on the run from Sephiroth clones who are after Ryeowook for the Jenova cells he is infected with, which cause a terrifying transformation in him.


Midgar

It was raining, the sharp scent of rainwater made acidic by the smog and pollution of Midgar permeating even into the tiny room of the clinic where Ryeowook was lying, comatose after his last attack. He was breathing on his own now, at least, his chest rising and falling slowly and steadily, but the small frown between his brows remained there even in unconsciousness.

Yesung was sitting next to his bed and watching his face when Dr. Choi came in with Cloud, both of them looking grim. He tore his eyes away from Ryeowook and stood up, looking from one to the other, his dark black eyes meeting Cloud’s bright electric blue ones, born from the Mako energy infused within him.

There was silence for a moment, broken only by the soft sounds of spattering raindrops, before Dr. Choi spoke.

“The attacks are getting more frequent, Yesung.”

Yesung turned away from him to stare at Ryeowook, still unmoving, and tried to blink away the hot tears that were prickling at the back of his eyelids.

“I know,” he said hoarsely.

“And Zwelrich. He’s not going to give up until he has Ryeowook,” Cloud said, and at the mention of the name Yesung’s hands, sheathed in black leather, clenched into fists, and the light from the small lamp next to Ryeowook’s bed glinted off the metal plates at the knuckles.

“What do you expect Ryeowook to do?” he bit out. “We’ve already left Avalanche. We’re not dragging the resistance into our fight. And may I remind you that it was because of Avalanche that Ryeowook’s in this state? If we hadn’t agreed to go on that mission, if Tifa hadn’t slipped up, Ryeowook wouldn’t be infected with Jenova cells now.”

Cloud had the grace to look away as Yesung turned fiery eyes on him, but Dr. Choi walked over to Ryeowook’s bed, pulled his eyelids open to check his pupils, pressed fingers at his neck to check his pulse.

“He’s only getting headaches now, and the only reason he falls unconscious all the time is because of the pain, but it’ll get much worse if we don’t cleanse him of the infection soon,” he murmured, and Yesung turned back around to look at Dr. Choi and at his friend, lying motionless in the small bed.

“How much worse?” he demanded, and Dr. Choi shrugged.

“Only Cloud knows,” he said, and at that Yesung swung around to Cloud again.

“Tell me,” he said; he recalled the rumours among the resistance fighters, of how Cloud had had the same infection several years ago, how he was afflicted by the same headaches, how he had somehow managed to overcome it. And suddenly he was seized with hope that maybe Ryeowook could be cured, that the attacks, which had been increasing with frequency over the last two months could finally be stopped, and then both he and Ryeowook would retreat from Avalanche completely. He was already sick of fighting a war that never seemed to end, and Ryeowook agreed with him.

Cloud was now looking back at him, and there was something in his blue eyes that Yesung couldn’t fathom - despair? Pity? But before he could speak, Cloud said something softly, something that made Yesung’s heart stop for a second.

“You have to take him away from here.”

Yesung was flabbergasted. “Take Ryeowook away? Where? He needs medical support if his attacks happen again!”

Cloud shook his head. “Nothing we have here can cure him, Yesung. The same thing happened to me, and there was only one thing that helped.”

Yesung remembered the stories he’d heard about Cloud, and his mouth opened and said it before his brain could process it. “The Lifestream.”

Cloud looked away from him and gazed over at Ryeowook. “Yes. It’s the only thing that will cleanse the infection. Take him fast, before the cells mutate and he starts to transform. Take him there before Zwelrich finds him again, because you know he and his brothers need the Jenova cells in Ryeowook.”

Yesung was trembling when he finally spoke again, gloved hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “I won’t know what to do if he faints again, Cloud. I won’t know how to keep him from the brothers. We barely escaped alive the last time they found us. And I won’t know what to do if he transforms like - like you did, like Zwelrich does. If he transforms and flies off, I won’t be able to find him out there. At least he’s contained within Midgar if we stay here.”

“If you stay here, there are only two possible outcomes,” Cloud said coldly. “Ryeowook will either be found by Zwelrich and made into a fount for Jenova cells to spawn new Sephiroth clones, until they create an army large enough to overrun the world. Or Ryeowook will die from the mutation. Choose which one you want.”

Yesung’s blood went cold at the thought. “But if he flies away from me out there - “

“That’s why I’m here,” Dr. Choi spoke up, and when Yesung turned back to him he was holding up a minuscule black disc on his palm, barely the size of the fingernail on Yesung’s little finger. Yesung recognized it immediately. “You can track him with this, once I insert it into his body.”

“Time is of the essence, Yesung,” Cloud said softly. “If you want to save Ryeowook, you have to go to the Crater and immerse him in the Lifestream. Staying here will mean certain death for you, and a fate worse than that for him.”

Yesung stared at the microchip in Dr. Choi’s hand. It was gleaming and as black as night, as black as Zwelrich’s one single wing, and Yesung tensed up at the thought of Ryeowook like that.

“Do it,” he said at last, and Dr. Choi nodded grimly before bending over Ryeowook, and he sat down next to the bed, never taking his eyes off Ryeowook even as Cloud began explaining carefully to him where he needed to go, and who he should look for on the journey.

___

Chocobo Farm

“The brothers have left Midgar.”

“What?”

“They know you’re out there, Yesung. Where are you?”

“Is this connection secure?”

“Of course it is, Cid engineered it.”

“We’re at the Chocobo Farm. How much time do we have?”

“We estimate that they’re only two days away from where you are. You need to leave right away with Ryeowook.”

“I can’t, he just had another one of his attacks. He needs to rest. We were lucky we were just a couple of miles from the farm when it happened.”

“Take a chocobo from the farm and go. At least get through the Mythril Mines first. The further you’re away from them, the better. Barret will be waiting for you at Mt. Corel.”

“Got it, Cloud. We’re on our way.”

Yesung snapped the phone shut and stared at Ryeowook, pale and clammy and unconscious, and felt his heart sink. They were barely a week out of Midgar and Ryeowook already had another attack, and the brothers were catching up fast, so fast.

He left his room, shutting the wooden door quietly, before tiptoeing down the staircase so as not to wake the family who lived here and bred the chocobos. He slipped out of the large stone farmhouse entirely, crossing the field outside to get to the barn itself, where all the chocobos were kept and where he knew the owner of the farm, Bill, would be.

The whole barn was dark and silent when he entered it except for the soft cooing of the chocobos and the rustling of their feathers, as the large birds shifted in their pens. As he’d expected, Bill was in there, sitting in one of the pens with a sickly chocobo. He looked up as Yesung wandered over, resting his arms on the swinging door, looking over it at the bird.

“How’s your friend?” Bill asked, and Yesung shook his head.

“Still unconscious,” he replied, and the old grizzled farmer sighed, running his hand across his mouth and his salt-and-pepper moustache.

“Stay as long as you wish, lad. Until he recovers.”

“Actually, Bill, we have to leave now.”

“Now?”

“Yes. I - I can’t explain, but we have to. Can I buy a chocobo from you? We’ll need one to carry Ryeowook across the Mythril Mines.”

Bill looked at him and Yesung felt inexplicably uncomfortable under his gaze. He had the sense that the farmer, old though he was, was someone who missed nothing and saw everything, and he suspected what was going on even if he didn’t know for certain. He remembered how Cloud had taken refuge at the farm before as well, while on his own journey, and decided that Bill certainly understood what was happening.

So he wasn’t surprised when the old man stood up and told him that he’d pick a strong, speedy bird for him, and he could go get Ryeowook ready for departure. He was surprised, though, when he fumbled for his money pouch, and Bill put out a calloused hand to stop him.

“I won’t take any payment from you, lad, any friend of Cloud’s is a friend of mine,” he rumbled, and Yesung hesitated only a moment before he bowed in gratitude and left to dress Ryeowook up and collect their weapons.

___

Ship to Middle Continent

“If you stare at that map any longer, Yesung, you’ll go blind.”

They were in their room, in the middle of the three-day voyage across the sea to the Middle Continent, where they would make their way through Mt. Corel and meet up with Barret. Yesung was nervous as hell. He had no idea when one of Ryeowook’s attacks would strike again, and if it happened when they were out in the open…

He was consulting the map Cloud had given him before they’d left Midgar, regretting it almost immediately. No matter how many times he looked at it, the fact was that once the ship docked at the port town of Costa del Sol on the Middle Continent, they had a two-week journey through open territory to Mt. Corel, and then a trek through the mountain itself, before they could reach the mining town of Corel where Barret lived. They would be open, and exposed, and nowhere near so much as a solitary cottage, and if Ryeowook collapsed on him in the middle of nowhere, they would both be sitting ducks for Zwelrich and his brothers.

Ryeowook seemed to know what he was thinking, because he reached across the small space between their twin beds in the tiny cramped room, and Yesung responded instinctively, locking his hand with Ryeowook’s. Ryeowook squeezed it tightly, his hand feeling small and soft under the metal plates of Yesung’s fighting gloves, before dropping it and returning to polish his submachine gun, even though it was already oiled to perfection and gleaming wickedly in the light of the oil lamp, which was flickering as the ship dipped and rolled. Ryeowook always kept his gun in tiptop shape.

Yesung found himself distracted from his perusal of the map as he watched Ryeowook’s hands rubbing a leather oilcloth along the barrel of the gun. His hands, which seemed so small and delicate, could handle the weapon with incredible speed and aplomb, and Yesung’s eyes followed the path of those slender fingers as they caressed the black metal. Ryeowook’s hands seemed to gleam almost silver in the little light they had in the room, and so did his face, and for a moment Yesung almost forgot where he was as the lamplight cast guttering shadows across the sharp planes of Ryeowook’s face. The months of headaches had caused him to lose weight, so his cheekbones stood out in stark relief and he looked thin and pale, but Yesung thought he’d never quite seen Ryeowook like this in all the years he’d known him, weak and vulnerable and yet putting enough trust in Yesung to follow him across the world.

Ryeowook looked up then, only to catch Yesung staring openly at him, and stopped polishing. “Yesung?” he asked curiously, cocking his head to one side, and Yesung blinked and shook himself out of his stupor.

“I’m - I’m not staring,” he blurted out, before clamping his mouth shut and wondering why it always worked before his brain did.

Ryeowook only smiled, and Yesung found himself almost entranced again before he gave himself a little shake and looked back down at his map, hands shaking slightly.

“I just told you not to stare so much at the map, we’ve planned our route out enough,” he said gently, and Yesung shook his head.

“I’m trying to plan for alternate contingency routes, in case… you know,” he mumbled, and heard Ryeowook sigh.

“I’ll be okay,” he said softly. “I haven’t had an attack for almost two weeks already.”

Yesung nodded but didn’t speak. He didn’t trust himself to. He didn’t want to tell Ryeowook what Cloud had said, that once the attacks tapered off, it meant the Jenova cells were already mutating, and sooner or later he would transform into the same one-winged creature that Sephiroth, Zwelrich, and all the other Sephiroth clones did. He looked at the map again. It would take another four months, at least, for them to reach the Lifestream.

He didn’t know if he could protect Ryeowook that far, but he flexed his fingers and felt the reassuring weight of the metal and magic infused into the leather, and swore silently that he would have to. They’d been friends for years, but Ryeowook had never been in such danger as he was now, and if Yesung wasn’t there to get him through this, no one else would.

___

Mining town of Corel

The smell of cigarette smoke in the town’s little pub was overwhelming, the air hazy enough to make Ryeowook’s eyes water, and Yesung noticed the tiny sniffle and little cough just as he was about to reach out and accept the cigarette Barret was proffering. Ever mindful of Ryeowook’s comfort, he pulled back and declined politely, though he stared longingly as Barret placed the stick in his own mouth and drew deeply on it. It had been weeks since he’d had a proper cigarette, and his lungs practically itched for one, but he remembered how Ryeowook had been advising him to quit for years and decided that this journey was probably the best time for him to give it up once and for all.

Ryeowook flashed him a small smile and he felt encouraged by it, grinning back in return and downing his glass of whiskey before signaling the bartender for a refill. Barett was on his phone - Yesung recognized it as the same phones that he, Ryeowook, Cloud, and the rest of the Avalanche team used, all specially engineered to transmit low-frequency waves in short encoded bursts to keep the lines between them secure - talking to someone that Yesung gathered was probably Tifa, back in Midgar.

“All right, all right already!” Barret was grunting, impatiently tapping the large gun grafted onto his left arm on the bar counter; the metal clinked dully on the scratched wood and beside him, Ryeowook winced while grasping his own submachine gun protectively. It bordered on obsessiveness sometimes, Yesung thought, the way Ryeowook tried to keep his gun smooth and clean, sometimes whining about blood spattering on it after battle; but then again, it was just another one of Ryeowook’s many quirks that Yesung was finding increasingly endearing, after weeks of traveling together with no one else but each other.

“Yeah, the runts are here. Yeah, I’ll deal with them, goddammit Tifa, now let me have my drink in peace,” Barret was yelling into the phone, before finally slamming it down on the table.

“She’s worse than Cloud,” he grumbled, turning to stare at them both. “And that spiky-haired skinny ass is bad enough as it is. So, now. Yesung, and Ryeowook, was it? What’s this I hear about the Jenova infection?”

Yesung told him about their journey so far, helped along at places by Ryeowook. He’d had yet another attack on the way to Corel, halfway through the Mt. Corel mountain pass, in the middle of a thunderstorm; Yesung had had to take refuge with him in one of the many natural caves that thankfully dotted the mountain. So far, though, Ryeowook hadn’t grown his wing, nor shown any other signs of transforming, and Yesung was thankful for that.

Barret frowned. “So those crazy Sephiroth clones are after you? Zwelrich, or whatever his dumbass name is?”

Ryeowook nodded. “Him and his two brothers, Nodal and Radiev. They - they want me, because I was infected with the last stock of Jenova cells.”

“They hope to make Ryeowook the new clone creator - using his blood to make an army of Sephiroth clones,” Yesung added, and Barret’s face darkened.

“Those bastards,” he mumbled. “This is like - what’s his face - Kadaj and those idiots all over again. And Sephiroth, I thought we’d seen the last of his mug after Cloud defeated Kadaj the last time.”

“Apparently, there still was one last batch of Jenova cells left,” Yesung explained. “It was deep within Midgar, in the Sector 1 reactor. The remaining clones, Zwelrich and his brothers, wanted to get it, but Avalanche found out about the remnants at the same time. We arrived at the reactor almost simultaneously, but in the fighting, Tifa broke the seals on the box holding it by mistake, and Ryeowook, in trying to save it, got infected. So there are no more cells left except in Ryeowook’s body, and that’s why they want him so badly.”

“Sons of bitches,” Barret swore. “Hojo, that bastard scientist, he should have been clapped in irons instead of running all his insane experiments, hiding cells here and there - “

There was a loud blast as the door to the bar exploded open in flames and the air around them erupted in screams, the patrons scrambling under tables and overturning chairs and glasses in their panic.

A tall figure stepped into the bar, over the smouldering remains of the door, and both Yesung and Ryeowook sprang to their feet as the long, flowing silver hair came into view, unmistakably recognizable. It couldn’t be, Yesung thought frantically, he couldn’t have caught up so fast, couldn’t have found them so quickly, but that hair was instantly identifiable anywhere -

He balled his right hand into a fist and called up the magic, swirling in the magic materia infused into his arm, and slammed a spear of ice straight at the man as Ryeowook, next to him, coolly lifted his submachine gun and clicked the safety off.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, barging into my town?” Barret roared, as the man deflected Yesung’s Ice spell with a quick shield; the spear shattered cleanly into the shield and dissolved into mist.

Yesung snarled and brought his fists up, preparing to charge, but Ryeowoook stepped in front of him, face determined. “It’s me you want, isn’t it? Let everyone here go, and I’ll come with you.”

“Ryeowook!” Yesung yelled, but suddenly Barret was there, his superior size and strength pushing Ryeowook back easily, and Yesung caught him around the waist and held him tightly.

“So, you’re Zwelrich, I assume,” Barret rumbled, and the silver-haired man laughed, his voice cold and hard. A single black wing unfurled itself from behind him, and Yesung shivered involuntarily at the sight. That black wing seemed made wholly of evil and devastation, and the thought that it might happen one day to Ryeowook made him clutch him tighter, even though Ryeowook was pushing at his arms, trying to get out of his grip.

“Indeed I am, and you must be Barret, founding member of Avalanche.” His eyes, the same electric shade of blue as Cloud’s, raked over Barret. “Not as impressive as your reputation says, I think.”

Barret growled. “I’m going to kill you, you little snot-nosed piece of shit, you’ll be easy pickings compared to Sephiroth,” he said, and at the comparison Zwelrich’s eyes darkened for the first time ever.

“Say that again, fat man,” he whispered, his wing curling ominously.

Barret turned to Yesung and Ryeowook - Ryeowook stopped struggling - and mouthed just two words, which Yesung caught easily. Nibelheim, Vincent.

“Go,” he said, this time aloud, as Zwelrich flew forward at them, and Barret let loose a hail of bullets at his approaching figure, long enough for Yesung to grab Ryeowook’s hand and dive out through the back door of the bar. They didn’t stop running until they were out of Corel and within sight of the distinctive pointed peak of Mt. Nibel, but even then, Yesung never let go of Ryeowook’s hand.

___

Nibelheim

They found the vampire Vincent easily enough, sleeping in the old Shinra mansion in the northern quarter of the town. The once-handsome manor house was now crumbling and decayed, but according to Cloud, it still held the largest library Shinra Corporation had in its heyday, when the Biological Sciences Department was conducting the various experiments that had ended up in the creation of Jenova cells, Sephiroth, and Cloud, and ultimately led to the various Sephiroth clones. That library, in the dank basement of the mansion, held the reports of almost all of Shinra Corp.’s scientific research, and Cloud had suggested enlisting Vincent’s help and doing some reading up on Jenova cells and the mutations it would cause within Ryeowook.

Yesung and Ryeowook were both relieved to hear from Tifa that Barret was fine - injured, but not severely, and cursing the hell out of Zwelrich every step of the way.

“Tell him we’re sorry that he had to do this for us,” Yesung had said, the line crackling, and Tifa had chuckled.

“He’d curse you too if I relayed that message,” she’d said. “In any case, he put up a good fight; it appears Zwelrich was injured too, that will give you guys some breathing space. Keep an eye out for Nodal and Radiev, but we don’t think they’d try anything without Zwelrich around; they’re like his puppets. Good luck in Nibelheim, guys, and tell Vincent I said hi.”

Vincent was even more intimidating to Yesung than the big, loudmouthed Barret had been, despite his lean figure; he hardly spoke, and his entire aura radiated coldness. But once Yesung and Ryeowook had explained why they were there, he’d led them to the library - an immense, high-ceilinged room, stacked with shelves and shelves of books - and pointed out what they needed.

“Sephiroth used to come here too, you know,” he said pensively on the fourth night they were there. Ryeowook had been asleep for a few hours already, having fallen asleep over a pile of books, but Yesung had continued on, devouring page after page and trying to decipher the scientific jargon that littered the books. None of it made very comforting reading. Shinra Corp.’s activities had been a lot darker than he’d suspected, especially in the area of biological experimentation.

Yesung looked up from where he’d been tucking a blanket around Ryeowook, tendrils of soft hair curling over his fingers as he swept his hands across Ryeowook’s neck and shoulders. “Sephiroth?”

Vincent stretched his long legs out and crossed them at the ankles, flipping thoughtfully at the pages of a book he was holding. “Yes. You know, he was the first person ever created out of Jenova cells. He came here to find out the truth about his creation, and when he discovered it, he went berserk. I remember, he spent nights here too, reading and reading.”

Vincent’s dark eyes locked on to Yesung’s. “Make sure this doesn’t happen to Ryeowook,” he said, as he stood up.

“Wha - what?” Ryeowook mumbled, stirring at the sound of his name. “Yesung? Is it time to go?”

“No,” Yesung said quickly, taking his hand and rubbing it between both of his own. “No, Vincent and I are just talking. Go back to sleep. We won’t leave Nibelheim so soon.”

Ryeowook had drifted off again almost before he finished speaking, and Yesung felt his heart ache as he looked down at his exhausted form, mentally counting down to the day when Ryeowook would finally transform. His headaches had all but stopped by now, signaling that the mutation was almost complete; Yesung knew they would never reach the Lifestream in time. From here on, it was a matter of following Ryeowook when he did transform, keeping him from harming others or himself, until they got to the Lifestream.

When he looked up, Vincent was gone, but it didn’t surprise Yesung anymore. He was used to Vincent’s sudden and soundless appearances and disappearances by now, his shapeshifting abilities giving him increased stealth that no human could ever have. Yesung pondered for a while on the irony of the fact that Vincent’s powers had also been infused into him by Shinra - he’d also been a victim of their experiments - and, while musing over this, bent down almost without thinking to skim his nose along Ryeowook’s cheek, breathing in his scent and then pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Ryeowook stirred slightly at the touch, but his lips turned up in a small smile even though he didn’t open his eyes, and Yesung lay his head down on a book next to Ryeowook, staring at him until his own eyes fluttered shut.

They left Nibelheim the next day, accompanied by Vincent, who wanted to travel with them as far as Wutai, to look for the ninja Yuffie.

___

Between Cosmo Canyon and Gongaga Forest

It happened when they were two days away from Gongaga Forest, having bypassed the town of Cosmo Canyon to cut short their journey.

It all went by so fast, that later when Yesung tried to recall the scene, it was all a blur, though that could also have been his fear clouding his memory. One moment, the three of them were trudging through the deep winding canyons of the Cosmo Valley, the next moment, Ryeowook had suddenly stopped walking and dropped to the ground, hands clutching his head, before letting out a piercing scream.

Vincent, who had been walking in front, whipped around immediately, his shotgun appearing in his hand almost magically; Yesung dropped to his knees next to Ryeowook and tore his hands from his face, but by then Ryeowook was shrieking, his eyes squeezed shut as he struggled on the ground, and Yesung flung himself on top of Ryeowook, pinning him down.

“Ryeowook!” he cried, grasping his face, which was contorted in agony - more agony than Yesung had ever seen on it, even more than when he was having his headaches. “Ryeowook, what’s wrong? Look at me, Ryeowook!”

Ryeowook’s response was to arch his back so violently that Yesung, not expecting it, was thrown off him; he scrambled to his feet, but Ryeowook was already being lifted off the ground, and as both he and Vincent watched wide-eyed, he rose and rose into the air, nothing discernible supporting him as he writhed in mid-air and screamed and screamed, each cry tearing into Yesung’s heart.

”Ryeowook!” he cried out, as Ryeowook threw his head back and gave a final bone-chilling scream, before a large black wing erupted from his back, curling around him before spreading out again with a flourish.

“Oh no. No, no, no,” Yesung whispered frantically. “No, Ryeowook, no - “

The wing flapped gently and Ryeowook’s body righted itself until it was hovering vertically above them, and right before Yesung’s eyes, his short black hair lengthened and lightened, until it was waist-length and flowing out behind him in the wind, the distinctive silver colour gleaming in the light of the setting sun.

Ryeowook tipped his head down to look at them, and Yesung froze, because that was no longer Ryeowook, not the Ryeowook he’d been friends with for years, not the Ryeowook he’d fought with against Shinra Corporation, not the Ryeowook he had fallen in love with during their journey. This was not his Ryeowook. This was Sephiroth, and Kadaj, and Zwelrich, and Jenova, all the clones and their fount, and there was nothing but malice swimming in those eyes, now a bright electric blue.

“Ryeowook,” he said hoarsely. “Ryeowook, please - “

Vincent raised his shotgun and leapt into the air so quickly he flashed across Yesung’s vision as a red blur, his superhuman speed and agility bringing him level with Ryeowook before Yesung could stop him.

“Vincent, don’t, that’s Ryeowook!” he managed to shout before Ryeowook’s lips curved into a sneer, but even before Vincent could fire a single shot Ryeowook’s hands came up and unleashed something at them, something white and blinding and searingly hot, and Yesung saw Vincent, his reactions still faster than any human’s, throw up a quick shield around both of them before the blast hit them, the shockwaves still strong enough despite the shield spell to knock Yesung out.

When he finally came to, the sun had completely set and the canyon was dark, and Vincent was leaning against a tree next to his supine body, staring up into the sky. There was no sign of Ryeowook.

Yesung’s joints ached from the blast and Vincent, who had been much nearer to it and who had also passed out and fallen back to the ground from that height, had his arm and a couple of ribs fractured, but he assured Yesung that his body healed much faster than normal humans.

“We’ll rest here for the night before following Ryeowook,” he said, and Yesung noticed something small and blue flashing in Vincent’s hands - it was the tracking device linked to the microchip in Ryeowook’s neck which Dr. Choi and Cloud had given him before they set out, all those months ago.

“We need to go now,” he said urgently. He knew they’d find Ryeowook easily, with the device, but the idea of waiting even another few hours was putting him on edge. His whole body hurt, but he didn’t care; all he wanted was Ryeowook. “We need to get Ryeowook back, Vincent, he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s not himself, he’ll be in danger - “

Vincent held up a hand to stop him. “Believe me, Ryeowook is nowhere near any town, or human habitation.” He motioned to the tracking device. “He keeps stopping, too. It appears that his body isn’t used to his metamorphosis yet. He can’t keep going for long, and in any case, as long as he wanders around in the canyons, he won’t go far enough to harm himself.”

Yesung wasn’t convinced and opened his mouth to argue again, but Vincent looked up, right at him, and Yesung suddenly felt drowsy. “Sleep,” Vincent commanded, and Yesung fell asleep as if he had been drugged.

The next day, as they set out to track Ryeowook - the device indicated that he was hovering around outside Gongaga Forest - Yesung found out that, apparently, one of Vincent’s abilites was hypnotism.

“If Ryeowook is hurt in any way, I’ll kill you,” he swore, but Vincent only tapped the device.

“His life signs are still strong,” he said coolly, and Yesung bit his lip and headed west, almost breaking into a run.

___

Gongaga Forest

They found Ryeowook unconscious on the ground just outside Gongaga Forest, onetime home of the ninja Yuffie.

It was Vincent who spotted him first with his keener eyesight, but Yesung was the one who’d pinpointed his position with the tracking device, running towards the tiny dot on the ground in the far distance.

He scooped Ryeowook up into his arms when he reached him, breathing heavily, and the first thing he did was check his pulse. It was strong and steady, and he heaved a sigh of relief as he palpated Ryeowook’s chest, arms and legs gently, checking for broken bones.

There was nothing on Ryeowook save for a long scratch along one arm, presumably caused when he’d fallen to the ground after his transformation phase was over. The eerie black wing had vanished without a trace, and when Yesung tentatively ran a hand under his shirt, feeling the skin of his back, he found a large scar running vertically down his shoulder blade, evidence that it had really been there.

“Ryeowook, hey,” he whispered into his ear, cradling him in one arm. “It’s me, Ryeowook, you’re safe now.”

Ryeowook’s eyelids fluttered and he let out a small gasp as he stirred awake; Yesung cupped his face in his free hand, forcing him to look right at him. “It’s all right, I’m here, I got you.”

“Yesung,” Ryeowook breathed, his eyes welling with tears. “Yesung…”

He looped his arms around Yesung’s neck and pulled him closer against him before he dissolved into tears, crying weakly into his neck, tears soaking into the collar of Yesung’s shirt and his breath puffing hotly against his skin.

“It’s all right, I’m here now,” Yesung soothed, clutching him tightly as he shook in his arms, dropping kisses on the top of his head, his forehead, his eyelids. “I’m here and I’m not letting you go again.”

Ryeowook only cried harder, and Yesung felt his heart break, because they were still more than a month from the Lifestream, and they both knew it would happen again, and when it did, they might not be lucky enough to survive.

___

Wutai

Yuffie was exactly as Cloud, Tifa and Vincent had described her, a spunky petite girl with sparkling eyes and an effervescent personality, looking much younger than her 20 years despite the belt slung around her hips, loaded with wicked-looking shurikens and throwing daggers.

She took an instant liking to Ryeowook and badgered him to cook for her, and he smilingly obliged while Vincent rolled his eyes, which earned him a smack from Yuffie, and Yesung watched on with amusement as he drank chilled rice wine.

With Yuffie’s voluble chatter and the comforts of her house in Wutai, he could almost forget that they were on the run and in a race against time, and wished for a moment that Ryeowook and he could stay in this beautiful quiet town tucked away in the northern tip of the Western Continent.

He knew they couldn’t, and he knew they had to keep moving, but he couldn’t resist giving in to Ryeowook’s pleas and agreeing to stay for a few days to rest and put their feet up, ignoring the concern that crossed Vincent’s features as he did so.

Besides, he rationalized, a few days’ rest was just what they all needed, especially Ryeowook, and the huge smile on Ryeowook’s face convinced him that it was worth it.

“Perfect!” Yuffie said when they told her. “I’ll show you around the town. Let’s go north tomorrow! You guys should see the Da-chao statues.”

“The what?” Ryeowook said.

“Da-chao statues. They’re massive statues of the gods, carved into the mountain face. It’s amazing!” Yuffie exclaimed, flinging her arms out wide to emphasise her point.

Yesung laughed and nodded, and so did Ryeowook, as he reached for Yesung’s hand under the table and gave it a squeeze. Yesung felt himself truly relaxing for the first time in weeks as he laced his fingers with Ryeowook’s, wishing that they didn’t have to leave.

He should have known it was all too good to be true.

It was by sheer fortune that they were still awake and armed hours later, because Yuffie, too impatient to wait, had insisted on dragging them up the northern mountain after their dinner to look at the statues. Vincent was being his usual silent self - he’d seen the statues before, after all - and was standing on an outcropping of the cliff staring down at the town while Yesung and Ryeowook admired the magnificent carvings with Yuffie, when he suddenly said, “Go.”

Yesung had been talking, but he stopped and turned to look at Vincent, who already had his shotgun out and ready. Yuffie, who’d fought alongside Vincent for years, recognized the look in his eyes faster than either Yesung or Ryeowook did, and sprang forward to stand next to him, shurikens gleaming between her fingers.

“Go, guys,” she said urgently. “Head into the cave above you - the caves here are all interlinked, follow them and you’ll come out behind the mountain, out of Wutai. We’ll hold them off for you. Now go!”

“What?” Ryeowook said, not understanding.

Vincent bounded into the air and fired at something in the darkness, and as the night lit up temporarily with the white-hot heat of his magically-reinforced bullet, Yesung caught a glimpse of a pale face framed in striking silver. Just a glimpse, but it was enough.

“Zwelrich,” he said. “Run, Ryeowook, go!”

Ryeowook turned, his submachine gun spinning in his hands, and Yesung turned to follow, but two dark shadows dropped out of the darkness before them and Yesung’s heart sank as he saw the same silver hair flowing down past those men’s shoulders.

“Vincent!” Ryeowook yelled from beside him. “Vincent, they’re all here, all three of them!”

One of the brothers pounced just as Ryeowook lifted his weapon and sprayed bullets at them, pouring fire magic into them as he did so, so they flared with flames and heat in the night. But he was too slow, much too slow - the brother he was shooting at, Yesung thought it was Radiev - staggered backwards, but the other brother, Nodal, was almost upon Ryeowook.

He charged forward, his fists sparking with magic, and swung at Nodal - it caught him on the face, and at the contact Yesung released the lightning magic he was containing, sending it blasting into Nodal so that he flew, back slamming into the mountain wall.

“Run!” he heard Vincent shout from somewhere behind him, and then Yuffie yelled, and there was a sharp clank as one of her shurikens hit whatever she had just thrown it at, and Yesung grasped Ryeowook’s hand as they turned helplessly, watching Radiev and Nodal struggle to their feet, both brothers effectively blocking their route to the cave.

Then there was a loud growl, and Yesung stiffened, because he’d heard it before, many times in Midgar, but no - that wasn’t possible, he couldn’t be here -

The growl escalated into a loud, ululating howl, and Yesung’s heart leapt, because yes, there was no mistake about it, that howl could only belong to -

“Red!” Ryeowook shouted from beside him. “Red!”

At his shout, a large wolf, with stunning red fur, dropped in front of them, its tail flicking back and forth, and Yesung felt as though he could weep, seeing their friend and ally here, so many miles from Midgar, and how did he even get here?

“Go, I’ll hold them,” the wolf rumbled deep in its throat. “Go, now!”

Yesung glanced at Ryeowook, and then threw a last look over his shoulder at Vincent and Yuffie, still facing off against Zwelrich, and ran just as Red snarled and leapt upon the advancing Radiev.

___

Ship to the Northern Continent

It took them three weeks to cross the ocean on yet another ship, to the Northern Continent, where their final goal lay.

Yesung was on tenterhooks throughout the entire voyage, because if Ryeowook transformed then he could very well destroy the entire ship, and Yesung would never ever find him in time. But nothing untoward happened, to his relief, and he’d managed to communicate with Cloud.

Vincent had been most badly injured, but recovering fast thanks to his accelerated healing abilities. Red had managed to kill Nodal, but had suffered several severe injuries for his trouble, though he had stabilized after a few days, and Yuffie was more or less fine. The good news was that both Radiev and Zwelrich had sustained heavy injuries, Radiev badly enough that Vincent was convinced he would not survive, and would be forced into hiding for a while more.

“How did Red get to Wutai?” Yesung asked Cloud, as Ryeowook curled up against his side on the bed, his body rolling slightly with the movements of the ship. Yesung slid an arm under him and held him steady. “I thought he was in Midgar with Cid, working with him.”

“He’d actually returned to his hometown a couple of months ago,” Cloud said, and Yesung had to stop to recall where Red was born. He was almost 60 years old in human years, though as a member of the now extinct Gi wolf tribe, he was gifted with human speech, extraordinary intellect and strength, and longevity. He had been one of those who had followed Cloud on his journey years ago, and when Ryeowook and he had joined Avalanche, Red had fast become one of their closest friends.

“Cosmo Canyon?” Ryeowook murmured sleepily next to him, burying his head in his chest; Cloud caught the soft words.

“Yes,” he said into the phone, and Yesung wasn’t sure if Cloud knew who he was replying to, but it didn’t matter to him. “He actually caught your scent, when you and Vincent and Ryeowook passed Cosmo Canyon on your way to Wutai, and followed you there. It seems he arrived in the nick of time.”

Yesung was stunned. “We - we hardly went anywhere near Cosmo Canyon,” he stuttered, and Cloud laughed.

“Red picked it up when he left town to hunt, he says. Vincent’s scent was all over the place. Was he flying about again?”

“Well, yes,” Yesung admitted, recalling the nights when they’d slept in the open and Vincent had done his disappearing acts, his red cloak flashing across the night sky as he left on his nightly sojourns doing no one knew what.

“Well, thank your lucky stars he did, because if he hadn’t Red might not have known you were near, and wouldn’t have been able to help in Wutai. Now, I need to know, how is Ryeowook?”

Yesung looked down at Ryeowook, cuddled close to him. “Fine so far. No signs of transforming.”

“Good. Now, Yesung, I actually have a plan which might cut short your journey and allow Ryeowook to be healed faster.”

Ryeowook’s eyes snapped open at the words and Yesung scrambled to sit up. “What?” he said.

“I just remembered, years ago, on my travels, I went to the Forgotten City,” Cloud’s voice dropped an octave, and Yesung suddenly realized where that was - it was the place where Sephiroth had slain Aerith, Cloud’s good friend and rumoured lover, though Cloud had never confirmed or denied it. “Well, Aerith’s body is there. I placed it in the lake there.”

“Yes,” Yesung said. “I know that.”

“That lake is also a source of the Lifestream, because of Aerith and her Holy magic.”

Yesung glanced over at Ryeowook, whose eyes were wide as he absorbed the information. “Really?” he said carefully into the phone.

“Yes. If I were you, I’d take Ryeowook there. It will shave three weeks of time off for both of you if you don’t have to travel up north to the Crater. That means Ryeowook is cleansed three weeks earlier, and without the stench of the Jenova infection in him, Zwelrich will no longer be able to trace him. You’ll be safe. If you head to the Crater, Zwelrich will find you there; he’ll have recovered by then.”

Yesung winced at the use of the word ‘stench’, though he knew what Cloud meant, that Sephiroth clones could find each other because those infected with Jenova cells had a certain smell that could only be sensed by other clones. He pulled Ryeowook close to him and buried his nose in his hair. Ryeowook smelled as sweet and fresh as always, and he mentally frowned at Cloud.

“Yesung? You got that?”

Yesung cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’ll do that. This is great news, Cloud.”

“It is. I hope everything goes smoothly, Yesung. Contact me when you reach Icicle Inn.”

“Okay.” Yesung broke the connection and looked down at Ryeowook, whose face was tilted up to him and beaming. “Heard that, Ryeowook? Three weeks earlier than expected!”

Ryeowook laughed. “I know,” he said, and leaned up to kiss Yesung.

___

Icicle Inn

The little town of Icicle Inn, covered in perpetual snow and ice on the cold Northern Continent, was the last stop they’d have on their way to the Forgotten City.

It was a beautiful place, surrounded by a glade of evergreen fir trees, and the houses in them were all built of the fir logs, making for a very picturesque place. It was even prettier than Wutai, despite the cold, and Yesung and Ryeowook huddled up in thick jackets and bundled each other in scarves.

They took the opportunity to rest there for a longer period than usual, partly because it was such a lovely town, partly because they knew there wasn’t much risk as the brothers were injured.

“Yesung,” Ryeowook whispered to him one night as they curled up together on their bed in the inn, a blazing fire crackling away merrily in the fireplace and warming the room up nicely. “Would you ever hate me?”

“What?” Yesung said in disbelief, looking down at Ryeowook, whose face was pressed into the crook of his neck. “Why would you ever think that?”

Ryeowook shifted slightly in his grip. “I just - I don’t know, Yesung. I’m scared. I’m afraid that I’ll hurt you if - if I - I transform. And I would kill myself if I ever hurt you, or worse - I just can’t - I remember the last time, and I can’t control it - “

“Shhh,” Yesung said, stroking his hair. “This will never happen. I won’t allow it.”

“As if you can stop the transformation,” Ryeowook said, his voice muffled against Yesung’s shoulder.

“That’s what I’m trying to do, aren’t I? Bringing you to the Forgotten City?”

There was a long silence - so long that Yesung thought Ryeowook had fallen asleep - but then Ryeowook spoke. “Thank you.”

Yesung caressed the soft skin on the back of his neck gently, feeling Ryeowook shiver slightly under his touch. “Don’t say silly things like that. I love you, and I’m going to get those damned cells out of you if it’s the last thing I do, so you’ll never have to go through that again. And when this is over, we’ll come back here, and we’ll stay here for the rest of our lives, away from all the wars, all that nonsense. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Ryeowook dropped a soft kiss on his neck. “I love you, Yesung,” he whispered, and Yesung ran gentle fingers up his spine and across the bump of his shoulder blade, remembering the terrifying wing that had sprouted from the scar there. He looked up at the skylight in the ceiling of their attic room and watched the snowflakes fall on the glass as he pulled Ryeowook up to kiss him.

Yesung kept his hand on Ryeowook’s back the whole time they made love, pressed it hard against his shoulder blade, as if that alone could prevent another transformation and stop that single wing from coming out.

He knew it couldn’t, but it didn’t stop him from wishing it would.

___

Between Icicle Inn and the Forgotten City

It had been one and a half months since Ryeowook’s transformation, and Yesung had been on edge for weeks, waiting for his next one.

He had hoped that he could get Ryeowook to the Forgotten City quickly enough so that it wouldn’t have to happen again, but they had apparently spent too much time in Icicle Inn.

It came on them barely three days out of Icicle Inn, and this time they were asleep in the heat-retaining tent that they had bought before setting out from the town, so Yesung had no warning when Ryeowook began kicking and thrashing and screaming in his sleep, his small body stretched into a taut bow that looked like it could snap at any moment.

Yesung’s first instinct was to gather Ryeowook in his arms, but the moment he touched Ryeowook, he flung Yesung’s hands off with such force that Yesung himself was almost thrown back, Ryeowook’s screams echoing in the icy glade they were in and tearing his heart apart before they stopped abruptly. Just in time he remembered the advice Vincent and Cloud had given him and cloaked himself in an invisibility spell and a shield spell as well, as the malevolent black wing burst out of Ryeowook and tore the tent open. His hair turned to that sickening shade of silver Yesung never wanted to see again, his eyes changing shades until they were a bright blue.

Those cold eyes scanned the area, passing right over Yesung - Yesung choked back a cry of Ryeowook’s name, though he wanted - oh how he wanted - to shout for him, to pull him down, to hold him in his arms until this whole nightmare disappeared, but then Ryeowook turned slowly in the air, the wing carrying him through the pitch black night until he disappeared into the horizon.

Yesung fumbled for the tracking device among the layers of the destroyed tent and found it easily, blinking blue as he switched it on.

“East,” he muttered to himself, and clenched his fists. East was where the Forgotten City lay, and with any luck, he would find Ryeowook near it. He looked in that direction, listening to the soft hooting of the owls in the forest he was in and feeling snowflakes land on his hair and face and hands, the metal plates on his gloves slick and wet with the snow.

He set his face towards the east and began running, his boots crunching on the ground. This time, he was truly alone, he knew it; there was no one to help him and Ryeowook anymore, no Cloud or Yuffie or Red, it was just him, and he was the only one who could save Ryeowook.

___

Forgotten City

The Forgotten City was an unearthly place, sitting alone in the middle of a dark forest in the very centre of the Northern Continent, and when Yesung stepped into it with Ryeowook, he felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle at the silence of the place, the whispered echoes of centuries past, the magic that still crackled in the air.

He had found Ryeowook five days before, further east from the City; Ryeowook had overshot it. It was a miracle he hadn’t died of hypothermia; Yesung estimated that he must have been lying out in the snow for at least 24 hours before he’d caught up and woke him up, and in fact when he’d found him Ryeowook was so cold and his pulse so low that he’d thought he must be dying.

He’d warmed Ryeowook up with an infusion of Fire magic into his body and managed to wake him, but even so, Ryeowook had been too weak to move, and it had taken three days before they could backtrack to the Forgotten City.

Zwelrich was in the back of his mind as he entered the abandoned city that used to be home to the ancient race of the Cetra, of which Aerith had been the last surviving member, and from whose mummified bodies Shinra scientists had conducted experiments on and created the first known Jenova cells. That ill-fated experiment had spawned Sephiroth, and then Cloud, and then clones like Zwelrich. There were no more Jenova cells in the world; they had all been destroyed, and there would be no more clones.

Except for Ryeowook, who was now the only human on the Planet to have Jenova cells within him that could be farmed to create more clones.

Yesung held Ryeowook’s hand tightly as they picked their way through the shell-shaped buildings which once housed an entire race of beings. The city was beautiful, in a way, gleaming pink and silver and in surprisingly good condition despite centuries of abandonment, but also frightening; there were puffs of wind that sounded like sighs or whispers, and lingering residue of a powerful magic that had been used here.

“Something’s not right here,” Ryeowook said, as they crossed a long bridge over a shallow pool that led into another shell-shaped building, sitting alone on a solitary island at the end. They had stopped to consider if this was the lake Cloud had spoken about, but decided it couldn’t be, because it was too shallow, and the water looked perfectly ordinary and still.

“Why?” Yesung asked, nerves on alert as he scanned their surroundings for any sign of movement.

Ryeowook shook his head, a worried frown on his face. “I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it, but something feels wrong, somehow.”

Yesung didn’t feel anything. “Is it your Jenova cells reacting to the Lifestream? Or the Holy magic Aerith left behind?”

“It oould be,” Ryeowook admitted. “Let’s just be careful, Yesung.”

Yesung nodded as they reached the end of the bridge and stepped into the bulding at the end, where they stopped short, their eyes met by a magnificent sight.

Before them was an enormous lake, dotted here and there with pillars of crystal that rose majestically from the water, and quite unlike the pool outside, this lake was literally swirling; glittering droplets splashed merrily from it, and the water was a shining pale-green colour. Yesung knew instantly that this was the Lifestream.

“Cloud was right,” he said slowly, staring at the lake. “Cloud was right, this place did become a spring for the Lifestream!”

Ryeowook beamed up at him, and Yesung pulled at him. “Come on, Ryeowook, we need to immerse you in the lake, quick - “

“You’ll go no further.”

The cold voice cut through the air and stopped them in their tracks.

Yesung looked up, in the direction the voice had come from, and felt his blood turn cold; it was Zwelrich, hovering above them, his wing flapping lazily.

“Zwelrich,” he hissed. “So you caught up with us.”

The clone tossed his head of long silver hair. “Your puny friends can’t do anything to stop me,” he sneered. “Nodal and Radiev were weak, but I am not. And I will take Ryeowook here. He belongs to me. To us, the Sephiroth clones.”

“He does not,” Yesung said dangerously, magic already dancing along his metal-sheathed gloves. “He doesn’t belong to a pathetic remnant, a nothing compared to what Sephiroth himself was.”

As he’d expected, Zwelrich’s eyes narrowed in anger; his wing flapped slightly harder, sending a gust of wind down on them. “I am just as good as Sephiroth.”

“Sephiroth would never have been driven off so easily by just Barret or Vincent,” Yesung taunted, and Zwelrich’s face contorted in rage.

“I won’t kill you, you little insect,” he said softly. “I will keep you alive, but I will put you in front of Ryeowook, make you watch what I do to him, how I change him into the Jenova fount, how I rebuild my army using him.”

“Try it if you can,” Yesung said, raising his fists. “We aren’t pushovers. Not like you.”

With a snarl, Zwelrich launched himself at Yesung, moving so fast he was surprised for a moment, but he sidestepped and the katana the clone was wielding sliced across his cheek, opening a deep cut, even though he hardly felt it.

“Go!” he roared at Ryeowook, and pushed him; Ryeowook began running down the steps leading to the lake, and Yesung tried to keep his eyes on him, but Zwelrich spun around and flew after him, arms outstretched.

“Jump, Ryeowook, just jump!” he screamed, and Ryeowook hesitated, his steps faltering.

That moment of hesitation cost him. Zwelrich reached him before Yesung was even half way down and picked him up as easily as if he were a rag doll.

“Ryeowook!” he shouted, and sent an Ice spell at Zwelrich, who laughed and parried it easily with his weapon.

“Now,” he said silkily, as Ryeowook kicked against him, “wake up, wake up, Jenova.”

He drew his katana across Ryeowook’s throat and Yesung’s mouth opened wide to scream - he was sure he was screaming, but his heart was pounding in his ears and he heard nothing, nothing except Zwelrich’s laughter, thin and high and hysterical, heard Ryeowook’s own shouts as his face twisted, and then Zwelrich opened his arms and dropped him.

“Ryeowook!” Yesung shouted, sprinting forward.

Ryeowook stopped in mid-air, and Yesung skidded to a halt just below him, watching as his mouth opened in a silent scream, and his back arched into a bow.

“No,” he said, his voice trembling. “Zwelrich, you bastard, no.”

Zwelrich only kept on laughing, the sound ripping painfully into Yesung, as he saw the wing unfurl itself from Ryeowook’s back.

“Not now,” he whispered. “Not now, Ryeowook, we’re so close.”

Ryeowook’s eyes snapped open then, and he looked straight at Yesung as the black wing spread out wide to its full wingspan, and his eyes were still black, even though his hair was starting to grow already. They lightened to brown as Yesung watched, but then Ryeowook shut his eyes and shuddered, and when he opened them again, they’d reverted to black.

And Yesung could see Ryeowook, his Ryeowook, in those eyes, and knew that he was fighting, knew that he hadn’t lost him.

He did the only thing he could think of; he jumped up on a crystal pillar near him, and up another, until he was close enough to Ryeowook, and with a last leaping bound he jumped up at him. But he was too far, still too far - his outstretched hands were more than an arm’s length away from Ryeowook before gravity exerted its pull and he began to fall again, falling backwards from Ryeowook, and he howled in frustration.

“Ryeowook!” he yelled, and suddenly the huge black wing swept forward and brushed across Yesung’s chest, and instinctively he grabbed it with both hands, tugged at it, so Ryeowook was pulled down by his weight, both of them plunging towards the lake that would save Ryeowook..

Zwelrich gave a roar of fury and sped towards them, but this time Yesung was ready; as Zwelrich came at him, he grasped the blade of the katana with one hand, keeping the other on Ryeowook’s wing, not caring even when the blade sliced the leather open and bit into his flesh almost to the bone. He hung on to it and pulled Zwelrich down with him, feeling himself fall, fall, fall.

The last thing he heard before his back hit the water of the lake was Zwelrich’s anguished scream, but he kept his eyes locked on Ryeowook’s ones, still black, all the time.

___

Spring of the Lifestream

Yesung awoke.

He blinked his eyes, because he was sure that he was dreaming. There was Ryeowook above him, hands gently stroking his face, but that couldn’t be. He had drowned in the lake. He knew he had fallen into it, and he would definitely have drowned in it. And Ryeowook had been halfway through transforming, and he might have been too late, and Zwelrich -

He sat bolt upright, taking in Ryeowook’s appearance, which was as normal - short black hair, round black eyes, and not a sign of a wing anywhere. He looked down at his hand, remembering how Zwelrich’s katana had sliced into it and cut it open to the bone. There wasn’t so much as a scratch on it. Even the leather of his glove was whole and undamaged, and he stared disbelievingly at it.

“Where are we?” he mumbled.

“At the Forgotten City still,” Ryeowook answered quietly. “We’re next to the Lifestream. I woke up next to you, right here. I don’t know what happened.”

“Was that… a dream?” Yesung asked, looking out over the lake. It was swirling as it had before, and there were no signs of a scuffle, and more importantly - no sign of Zwelrich.

Ryeowook shook his head. “If it was, we were having the same one.”

Yesung stared at Ryeowook for a moment, then reached forward and slid a hand up his shirt, feeling for that scar on his back. He found nothing except smooth, unblemished skin, and gasped.

“It - it’s gone! The wing scar! It’s gone!”

“Does that mean… we did it? I’m saved?” Ryeowook asked in a small voice.

“I don’t know, but I really hope so.”

“And… what about Zwelrich?”

Yesung shook his head. “I don’t know. This is all so confusing. I don’t remember anything.”

“Neither do I,” Ryeowook said, his face distressed. “Yesung, I’m scared. What if I’m not really cured? What if Zwelrich is still out there? Yesung, I need to know for sure.”

“We need to call Cloud,” Yesung decided, fumbling for the phone in his back pocket. He pulled it out and looked at it, apparently unscathed from being dunked in the lake. Yesung hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was possible for it to work after being immersed in water, but Ryeowook squeezed his arm and he realized this wasn’t the time or place to work out the intricacies of what had just happened to them.

“What happened?” was the first thing Cloud said, and Yesung and Ryeowook told him.

“We don’t know, and we were hoping you could solve it for us,” Yesung said drily.

By the time they finished relaying the events to Cloud, taking turns to tell him what transpired, they could almost hear the smile in his voice when he said, “Thank Aerith.”

“Sorry?”

“Thank Aerith. I think she helped you.”

“Isn’t - isn’t Aerith dead?” Ryeowook asked uncertainly.

“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t have power left,” Cloud said quietly, and Yesung remembered those other stories he’d heard about Cloud, how Aerith had helped him through the Lifestream after her death.

“I understand,” he said.

There was a short pause, and then Cloud said, “Well, what are you waiting for? Come on home.”

Yesung cut the connection and turned to Ryeowook, smiling. “It’s over.”

Ryeowook flung himself forward, into Yesung’s arms, and Yesung held him close, feeling his shaky breaths against his chest. “I guess we really should thank Aerith, huh?” Ryeowook said, laughing and crying all at once, and Yesung nodded.

“Yeah,” he replied, looking out over the beautiful lake. “Thanks, Aerith, whereever you are.”

There was a gentle puff of wind that swept past his cheek as the words left his mouth and he almost thought he heard a gentle whisper in that breeze, but he looked down at Ryeowook and decided not to question it, choosing to just savour the moment of having Ryeowook alive and whole and healthy again.

___

Icicle Inn

“We’re not coming back.”

“What?”

“We’re staying at Icicle Inn, Tifa. Permanently.”

“I thought you wanted to come back to Midgar!”

“Well, we changed our minds. This is where we want to be.”

“Hey. You can’t just leave us here.”

“We’ll visit, we promise.”

There was an ominous crackling over the phone as Yesung held his breath, waiting for Tifa’s response.

There was a sniff. “You’ll come back and visit? Really?”

“Of course we will,” Yesung assured her. “We’ll even drop by Wutai, Nibelheim, wherever, once in a while. It’s just, we want to have a quiet place of our own, right here, and we love it in Icicle Inn.”

“As long as you do come back and see us.”

“We will,” Yesung promised. “We won’t forget you, or everyone else. Thank you for everything.”

“Be happy, Yesung,” Tifa murmured, and Yesung smiled at Ryeowook, whose back was to him, as he wiped dust off the windowsills of the little house they’d bought in the town.

“I will be.”