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year 5, quarter 3
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Or at least, that’s what the man at the docks said after Sephiroth had trekked down a mountain, followed a river, and sought out this very harbor for the purpose of buying his way onto one. The portly, sea-worn sailor manned a station not far from where the ships were moored offering trips to Provo (wherever that was), along the Pale Coast, and to several unremarkable towns in between. But the ships refused to enter waters beyond the coastal shelf. Of that, the man made himself perfectly clear.
”How much would convince you otherwise?” Sephiroth pulled out his Shinra company card and passed it across the wooden countertop. The man picked it up, eyeing it in confusion before handing it back.
”We only take gil here,” he said. ”And it can’t be done. The sea beyond the coast is too dangerous. Full of monsters and rough waters all around. No one that’s ever gone past it’s come back in one piece.”
Sephiroth touched at the bridge of his nose, eyebrows furrowed. They couldn’t even manage a route over the ocean. Where in all of Gaia had Shinra left him to rot?
”Fine.” Sephiroth took his card and turned, walking before he really knew where he was going. If he’d been brought here then there had to be a way to leave as well. If he could ever figure out where here even was.
He slowed to a stop. The air was heavy with salt. The dock creaked beneath his feet. A pair of seagulls circled over the beach, wings spread and crying in time with the pulsing waves. His back itched beneath his right shoulder blade.
This was all wrong.
The incident in the mountains lingers behind his eyes even now. In a moment of panic, he'd launched himself into the air as though he'd done so dozens of times and more. The dizzying vertigo still soured at the back of his tongue. The phantom wind still grasped at the locks of his hair, and on his back -- feathers. He didn't need a moment's reflection to relive the horror of his spontaneous extra limb. The feathers tickled the surrounding skin with every breath.
What had they done to him? It was a question that echoed to him even now. It struck him in an odd way -- enough to turn his stomach with chills and yet somehow familiar at the same time. It was like walking through a dream. Or rather, flying through one.
He reached back and touched at his coat where he knew the feathers were nestled. Foreign bones bulged faintly beneath black leather, and he quickly withdrew his hand, fist tight. He was walking again, quicker this time though he still had no clear destination.
Behind him, the seagulls continued their endless bleating.
Zack curiously peered at the high walls of Torensten as he walked out of the city, hands behind his head, blue eyes tracing the stone walls up and up until they met the endless sky. While the city had been his ”home base” of sorts recently, he hadn’t taken the time to explore quite everywhere just yet. He tended to keep busy helping out where he could at the Inn, in order to keep his mind and body busy. However, the day was going by slowly, and the Soldier found himself too restless to stay around the area that had become so familiar to him.
He followed the stone path out of the city and down toward the coast, passing quite a few people as he went along. It didn’t take long for the familiar smells of Torensten to fade and give way to the salty, crisp air of the ocean. Zack took a deep inhale, enjoying the change of scenery. The last time he’d been in the city, the area down by the old port had still been decrepit and closed off to everyone. However, it seemed they’d opened it up considering … well, all that had happened all over the place. The Soldier heard whispers and stories of mysterious happenings in other cities, strange people and beasts … Yet, he’d been lucky enough to dodge danger, for the time being.
Pausing at the top of the hill, Zack took a moment to admire the scene down at the port. There were many ships docked there, but it seemed none were setting sail today. Still, the water was as beautiful as it seemed dangerous, choppy and wild, and the sun was just beginning its descent for the day -- early afternoon beginning to give way to evening. The light would last still for some time, so there was still plenty of exploring that could be done. Fair shoved his gloved hands into his pockets, rocking on his feet, soaking in the sunlight on his scarred face.
Too restless to simply enjoy the scenery, the Soldier made his way further down the path, approaching the stands and the docks that made up the lively Port area. There were people milling about, seeming more upset than usual. Zack picked up mutters here and there about how no ships were going out, and none were coming in for the moment. Maybe the weather was bad? Undeterred, the wooden dock creaking under his weight, the Soldier began to look over the few stands that were up -- filled with an assortment of sea-mysteries.
Zack had grown up close to the ocean. The memories of his childhood in Gongaga were still happily pieced together in his mind, and he thought back to the times of running through the warm, white sand, scaring seafaring birds, and fishing with his father. It brought a sense of nostalgia, and the Soldier couldn’t help but smile at the memory as his gloved fingers brushed over shelled creatures resting on ice.
Did I ever see another ocean?
With that, a sharp pain zapped through this mind, startling Fair. He shook his head, running a hand through his black locks, waving off the man behind the stand’s concern with a quick, no worries, I’m fine!. As usual, when he attempted to remember the majority of his past, it hurt. So far, he’d been lucky that his busted memories hadn’t caused him any issues, but … Well, he never was one to be overly lucky, and that well was bound to run dry soon.
The Soldier continued down the dock, passing the locals with ease and comfort despite the large sword strapped to his back. The seabirds bellowed all around him, squawking as they attempted to feast on all the sea life around them. Zack stopped for a moment, watching a pair flying overhead, his eyes caught on a feather as it gracefully dipped down, lower and lower, swaying in the salty breeze.
He followed the feather with a strange sense of familiarity, cocking his head curiously until it landed further ahead on the dock, closer to land. It drifted just behind a man dressed in black, with long silver hair drifting in the breeze. Zack stared for a second, an itching, familiar feeling in the back of his mind, until the realization hit him so hard it nearly knocked the air out of him.
Is that … Sephiroth!?
Stunned, his mouth agape, Zack began to press forward on the dock, accidentally knocking into the occasional stranger as he gained speed. Without realizing it, he’d taken off at nearly a full run, the dock groaning under the strain of his boots as he heaved salty air in and out of his lungs. That coat -- he knew that coat, and -- and that hair! He knew it had to be him!
How … How he knew that, Fair couldn’t recall. It was a gut instinct. A knowing beat in his heart. The man he’d loyally fought alongside as a Soldier 1st Class. Drawing on any specific memories of the man was near impossible, but the Soldier could see him in his mind’s eye, his gut stirring with a mixture of emotions as his body attempted to remember what his mind could not.
For a slight second, he felt apprehensive. But, he pushed it aside, in favor of the adrenaline and warmth.
“Sephiroth!!” Zack called loudly as he stopped a few feet behind the man, his cheeks tinged red from the cool air as he’d run, waiting for the man to turn around. His body was filled with excited energy, almost unable to hold still at the idea that he’d finally found someone he knew, a friend.
And well, if by some really weird chance that the figure who looked mysteriously like Sephiroth wasn’t him -- it wouldn’t be the first time Zack Fair had looked like an idiot.
If it was up to me, I'd rewrite history, and change my destiny. One last time.
Sephiroth paused at the elated voice behind him. It wasn’t uncommon to be recognized and called to at least not in Midgar, but he wasn’t in Midgar anymore or anywhere close to it, and he hadn’t been recognized in days. There was something oddly familiar about that voice -- something suffocated in the omnipresent fog. His eyebrows furrowed faintly as he turned to meet it and saw-
Angeal.
His breath seized in his throat. There was that familiar slicked back hair, that dark First Class uniform he’d always insisted on wearing to code, and on his back -- the weighted slab of his signature buster sword. Sephiroth’s eyes widened and he felt himself visibly brighten as he took a step towards his friend only to pause a moment later. No, he’d been wrong.
This man wore the trappings of Angeal, but he lacked the same square jawline, the same measured eyes, or the broad shoulders connected to a thick mass of finely toned muscle. This man was weak in comparison with animated features and form far too slim for the soldier he resembled. No, beneath the veil, the man before him was-
”Zack Fair.” Sephiroth’s voice came even. His expression cleared. Zack’s hair was different than he remembered, and he had no idea how he’d come across a First Class uniform. Sephiroth’s eyebrows furrowed as his eyes caught the Buster Sword once again. Why on earth had Angeal ever parted with it, and what was Zack doing with it now? The implications prickled uneasily at the back of his neck, but he supposed those were questions better suited for another time. There were more important matters at hand.
”So you’ve come too.” Sephiroth raised a hand as though to gesture to the landscape around him, but quickly thought better of it. Where were they?”It’s...good to see you.”
And it was. Despite his initial disappointment, Zack was the first familiar face he’d seen in a sea of strangers and uncertainty. Perhaps if Zack was here, perhaps it would all start to make sense.
But why couldn’t he remember for himself? The sight of Zack ignited something in the back of his memory, something painful that threatened to seize his mind in its grasp. The inconsistencies scattered around the soldier like glaring neon lights, and yet they did nothing to pierce that terrible fog. Why did the sight of Zack almost put him at ease? They’d never exactly been close, had they?
Zack wait on bated breath nearly trembling with anticipation. Not a new sight (the soldier had long held the reputation of an excitable child) but one that Sephiroth couldn’t help a slight smirk at the sight of. Some things hadn’t changed, it seemed.
”Perhaps you could brief me on the situation.” Sephiroth squared off against him, appraising him as something like an equal. ”It seems this is...beyond my scope.” A faintly pained look crossed his eyes before he quickly cleared it again. That admission wasn’t easy.
Yet it was necessary. The scales of power tipped agonizingly away from him once again.
Zack was so excited, so relieved when Sephiroth turned around that he completely passed up the odd silence that briefly existed between the two of them. Perhaps, if he’d been sharper and less hopeful, he’d have picked up on the way the General had to take a few seconds to actually say his name, or the extremely subtle change in his expression. If they had been back on Gaia, and Zack was still loyally working right alongside Sephiroth, he would have noticed it.
Instead, all he heard was the General’s voice smoothly repeating his name with familiarity. With what little self control he had, and no desire to be knocked across the head, Fair kept himself from jumping with joy and throwing his arms around the stoic Soldier in front of him. Instead he smiled, his grin nearly beaming with joy, stretching the scar on his cheek as he shuffled excitedly on the dock. Sephiroth had really taken on the role of semi-mentor and good friend after Angeal passed away, and the younger man could hardly contain his joy.
Too energetic, he could almost hear the whisper of Angeal in the back of his mind, Get your head on straight.
“It’s good to see you too,” Zack finally admitted with relief, catching himself before he began to ramble onward. He recalled Sephiroth not really listening to him if he just started squawking off like a sugar-hyped kid at the Golden Saucer, so he bit his tongue, letting his superior speak before he did.
But man was it hard. He had so many questions, so many things to ask! The black-haired soldier could barely remember much of anything other than bits and pieces here and there, yet … He knew things that Sephiroth liked and disliked, he remembered what he looked and sounded like. Why, though, could he not remember much of anything else with Sephiroth? What was the last thing they’d done together? And why … why wasn’t Sephiroth there, when he was on the run from ShinRa?
Well, questions for another time.
Sephiroth’s small smirk eased some of Zack’s excited-drive anxiety, temporarily helping him to calm down, his too large grin diminishing down to a normal smile. However, as the General spoke, asking for an explanation of sorts, Fair’s eyebrows rose in surprise, a curious look passing over his face. It almost sounded like Sephiroth had no idea where he was, or what he was doing there. That couldn’t be right, though, could it? Surely he had been --
Wait. Did he just … “arrive” here?
Zack swallowed, remembering back to when he woke up outside of Torensten, dazed and confused, spending the first few days thinking he was trapped in some sort of bizarre dream. A lot of other people he’d met weren’t from this place, either. They’d all appeared here at some point or another; lost souls, adrift.
“Sure,” Zack agreed to explain the situation to Sephiroth, his face suddenly crossed with a smidgen of worry and caution, “Here, uh, why don’t we head up toward the city while I try and explain things?”
Trusting that the General would follow him, since there wasn’t much purpose to them staying on the dock, the Soldier stepped past his superior, scaring off a few seabirds as he briskly passed them. The sun cast their shadows ahead of them, and Zack suddenly felt his gut twist as he looked at Sephiroth’s next to his own. The relief at finding his friend and fellow Soldier was beginning to wane as he realized that, if the man next to him hadn’t been here long, what Zack was about to say was going to sound … more bizarre than usual.
“How long have you been here?” Zack asked, shoving his gloved hands into his pockets as the sun warmed his back, “Err, not here at the Port but … In a place you didn’t recognize? That’ll help me get started.”
A part of him kind of hoped that Sephiroth actually knew more about everything than he did, but perhaps that’s just because that was the roles they shared before. But now, well … Anything could happen in this world.
If it was up to me, I'd rewrite history, and change my destiny. One last time.
Zack’s eyebrows rose in surprise then crossed apprehensively. He swallowed, perhaps buying for time, before he finally answered. ”Sure,” he said. His excitement had faded. His wide, childish grin had fallen back to something almost subtle. ”Here, uh, why don’t we head up toward the city while I try and explain things?” There was that look again. Worry? For him? Sephiroth blinked in the face of it. Had anyone ever used that look on him? He hesitated, uncertain how to respond, before Zack turned and started down the dock. Sephiroth’s eyebrows furrowed faintly.
Whatever had passed between them, he decided that he didn’t like it.
Their boots pounded across the wooden planks below, trodding almost in unison away from the setting sun. Sephiroth looked out to the horizon as they walked, considering the point where sea met sky. Something was wrong.
He knew it in the core of his being, in every instinct, in every lingering thought. The pieces were missing, his intel broken, and nothing made sense anymore. Sephiroth turned his attention to Zack again -- or rather the sword on his back. Angeal would have never parted with it, not willingly at least. Sephiroth felt his mouth dry. No. He touched at his forehead. He wouldn’t let himself think that way. He knew nothing of Angeal’s fate. He couldn’t allow himself that distraction.
And still, the thought lingered. The buster sword glared in front of him like a walking grave. Angeal would never part with that sword alive. Angeal must have been…
“How long have you been here?” Sephiroth tensed at Zack’s voice. He’d nearly forgotten about him. ”Err, not here at the Port but … In a place you didn’t recognize? That’ll help me get started.”
”Oh.” The sound came rather than any distinctive words. Sephiroth tried to shove his thoughts aside and focus on the question. What had Zack asked? ”I’ve been here for at least five days counting only those that I’ve spent conscious.” Their steps clattered beneath them. Too loud with the crash of waves and the bird’s squawking. Sephiroth touched at his temple again. ”I’ve noticed...inconsistencies. With what I recall. I’ve suspected Hojo might have been involved.” Sephiroth paused. Why was he telling Zack this? That was a fear he would have only divulged with…
Angeal. Zack looked far too much like him. It must have been subconscious.
”You appear to know more about the situation than I do. Somehow.” Sephiroth glanced over Zack again, frowning faintly. ”You look...different. Than I remember.”
”I’ve been here for at least five days counting only those that I’ve spent conscious.”
Zack’s shoulders tensed, and he very nearly halted from the shock. Only five days? The Soldier’s footsteps felt heavier and heavier with each step, as he attempted to absorb that information. Sephiroth only recalled being there for five days, at the least … How was that possible? Zack had been there for months, if not longer, watching days turn to weeks in one city or another, losing track of time as the sun set and rose again and again as he’d wandered around the planet.
Was Sephiroth just suffering from some memory loss, maybe? Or had he really been there for, well, barely any time at all?
”I’ve noticed...inconsistencies. With what I recall. I’ve suspected Hojo might have been involved.” Fair frowned deeper, wondering how he could possibly start to explain any of this to the General. However, hearing Hojo’s name for the first time in a long, long time made the hair on the back of his neck stand, and Zack couldn’t bite off the reply before it left his lips, “This place is a little kinder than anywhere that psycho bastard would send us off to. But, just a little.”
The creaking wood of the dock switched to the uneven surface of cobblestone as the pair walked further from the sea. The Soldier could feel sweat at his hairline as he grew increasingly nervous of the situation, his back complaining at his tensed posture. Sephiroth was a brilliant man, able to piece together and solve nearly in situation Zack had seen him thrown into. But, with his memory clearly lacking, what was he possibly thinking? What all had happened to him? What was the last thing he remembered?
Of course Zack knew more than his superior, for the first time. He’d nearly lived a separate life on this strange world in the amount of time he’d been there. He could name most of the cities and how to get there. He could name all kinds of different people he’d met, most who didn’t know what a “Midgar” was. People with strange power, and people who didn’t even seem human.
”You look...different. Than I remember.” Fair paused, stopping in his tracks to glance back at Sephiroth. His bright blue eyes caught the frown on the General’s face, and the very subtle appearance of true confusion. He studied Sephiroth for a moment, the shock and confusion of his gaze replaced by something softer -- concern, “Yeah? I’ve got a feeling … Well, I mean … Man, this stuff is confusing.”
Zack bit his tongue and turned his head, scanning the landscape for a moment in order to buy himself some time, to figure out what to do next. There was a lot to explain, and if Sephiroth’s memories were as fried as his own, a lot of it really wouldn’t make sense. But what did that mean, different than he remembered? Zack had looked the same ever since, well, ever since Angeal passed.
Fair’s blood ran cold as realization dawned on him. An icy stake in his heart. Did Sephiroth … Not remember Angeal’s death? That would mean he’d forgotten years, including their own friendship. Zack and Sephiroth didn’t really become friends until after Angeal’s death, and Genesis’ supposed death at the time as well.
Zack let out a low whistle as he kept his eyes on the distance, spotting a rocky outcropping off of the main path where they could speak more comfortably, “Let’s head over there,” he gestured, boots already taking him off of the path, “I’ve got a feeling a bombshell is coming.”
Trusting that Sephiroth would trust and follow him, the Soldier paced through the grass to the rocky area; a cliffside near the edge of the sea. There were rocks he could sit on or throw if things got more distressing than they already were, and that was, at least, a small comfort. Zack admired the orange glow of the sun on the water for a moment as he chewed over his next question, wondering which answer he wanted the most.
Finally, with a deep breath, his glowing eyes somber as he turned to look at the General, he got started, “Can you tell me the last thing you remember? Before you ended up here five days ago?”
If it was up to me, I'd rewrite history, and change my destiny. One last time.
Sephiroth slowed to a stop behind him, watching him warily. Zack sputtered something that only ran in nonsensical circles of his own uncertainty, and Sephiroth wondered exactly what thoughts were spiraling through the soldier’s head. There was something else that Zack had said that only added to his own sense of unease. Zack spoke of Hojo with nothing but hostility. Sephiroth had never spared any love for Hojo, and yet, he had never heard anyone come close to calling him a “psycho bastard.”
And still, Zack disproved his original theory -- or at least, if this was Hojo’s fault Zack was unaware of it. But how had Zack learned of the scientist’s true nature? Sephiroth’s suspicions hadn’t surprised him in the least, and in fact, seemed inadequate to Zack’s own understanding.
With every passing moment, Sephiroth couldn’t help the growing confidence that he had been left behind. Amnesia, perhaps? Sephiroth swallowed against the bile that rose in his throat. What could have brought him to forget such a significant spanse of time? Zack didn’t just resemble Angeal, but had in fact, matured not just in disposition but physically as well. He was no longer the lithe and inexperienced teenager that Sephiroth had known. How many years had passed since they’d last spoken?
And more importantly, was this a lapse of time or memory? Knowing Shinra, he supposed it could be either, but which would he have preferred? An unconscious stasis or an induced stupor? Of that, he couldn’t say.
Zack led them to a cliffside at the edge of the beach. The terrain was unstable with jutting rocks that rolled beneath his feet, but neither had any trouble keeping their balance. They stopped at a small shelf where the stone had been worn away into something resembling even ground. The waves pounded hard and insistent upon the rocky outcropping, tearing it away one grain of sand at a time. Sephiroth watched it coolly as he waited for the supposed “bombshell” Zack had so ominously mentioned. Surely it couldn’t have been worse than what he’d already imagined.
And then came the expected question. ”Can you tell me the last thing you remember? Before you ended up here five days ago?” The inquiry was not itself harmful, and yet, it felt like the first signs of an ambush. He had no choice but to leave himself vulnerable to attack.
”The last thing…” Sephiroth smirked faintly and looked up to consider the sky. ”It’s hard to say. The details are muddy.” As to be expected if his mind had been tampered with. He tensed at the thought.
”I’d been briefed on Genesis' appearance in Wutai.” Yes, that was his last concrete memory. The last terrible blow that couldn’t have been lost in the dulling of time. ”Angeal and I had been given orders to…” He trailed off. No, Zack would already know. Sephiroth glanced sharply in his direction, watching for a response. Time had undoubtedly passed since then. An abundance of it if he were to go by Zack’s new appearance or his general reluctance to speak on the matter. His reaction would say as much if not more than his words. Sephiroth watched for it carefully.
Zack is so caught up in his own thoughts he's forgetting to mention the whole BTW THIS IS A WHOLE 'NOTHER PLANET detail. He'll remember tho xD
The details were muddy? That certainly felt familiar, Zack thought to himself, as Sephiroth seemed to search for something he could remember, something to latch onto. Not everyone the Soldier had run into had foggy, or broken, memories of sorts, but some of them did, himself included. Zack knew the pain of sifting through muddled and broken memories all too well, though he had a feeling it perhaps wasn’t as painful for others. His attempts to recall specific memories had knocked him unconscious a time or two to the point he’d mostly given up on remembering his past life.
Which may have been a bad move, depending on what all Sephiroth could or couldn’t recall.
“I’d been briefed on Genesis' appearance in Wutai.”
Zack’s expression dropped instantly, even while he tried to keep up the appearance of not being too affected by the news. He attempted to save face, mustering up the most neutral expression he could think of while Sephiroth continued, ”Angeal and I had been given orders to…”.
“Eliminate Genesis,” the Soldier murmured on a reflex, as if he’d been force fed that order time and time again. He shut his mouth as soon as the words left his lips, however, and Zack immediately turned his attention away from the General. His heart was beating faster and faster now as the shaky timeline of events he had in his head attempted to sort themselves. He paced a few steps away, then a few steps back, stopping for a second to listen to the crash of the waves before repeating the same action.
Wutai. That was … a long time ago. Fair couldn’t put a finger on exactly how long, but he knew it had been years. There were things he did remember -- battling summons Genesis had left behind, fighting Angeal, vague memories of being in a lab, and trying to run back to Midgar with Cloud. But there were so many holes, so many pictures he couldn’t put back together. What all had Sephiroth done, after Wutai? Zack couldn’t remember, but he knew the General was around. He could faintly recall conversations, and a feeling of strong camaraderie. He trusted Sephiroth, like a close friend.
Finally, Zack stopped his fretted pacing and took a deep breath. All of this was … insane. It didn’t make sense. Was it supposed to make sense? He wasn’t sure, but it was started to make his head hurt.
“The last thing you remember…,” the Soldier trailed off, chewing on his words before he turned to look back at Sephiroth, his eyes conflicted and confused, “And the last thing I remember are years apart from each other. If it was Wutai then I was…”.
Zack scratched his chin, shaking his head, “I was still a second class SOLDIER.”
Before he got the Buster Sword. Before he got the scar on his cheek. Before Angeal was… He shook the memory away.
Sephiroth probably had a better idea of what that looked like than Zack himself did. How did something like that happen, though? Was Sephiroth’s memory filled with more holes than his own? Or was this … A different Sephiroth than he remembered? Was that possible? Cloud was certainly different than Zack had remembered him, but his blonde friend was still alive while he’d been dead and gone. Sephiroth looked the same, though, as Zack could remember him, anyway. But that felt, well, normal. Like the General never changed anyways.
“Damn,” Zack laughed to himself, though it came out hollow, a conflicted smile stretching across his scarred face, “That’s gonna take some getting used to. I can’t answer a lot of questions about what happens after that, even if you ask me. My memory is all kinds of busted up.”
The Soldier tapped on his temple, his empty smile stretching further. He didn’t mean to feel so … strange and hollow. He wanted to feel happy and excited, still. He did, somewhere! Zack was still comforted by the fact that Sephiroth was around, but something had sapped the excitement from his spirit. Likely, the fact that the Sephiroth in front of him wouldn’t remember … Well, any of the time they had spent together on missions, or the friendship they had built after Genesis’ disappearance and Angeal’s death. In a way, Zack had only gained half of a friend back.
That, and he had been hoping that maybe Sephiroth knew more about what was going on than he did.
If it was up to me, I'd rewrite history, and change my destiny. One last time.
Zack’s reaction told him everything he needed to know.
In that one instant, Zack’s pretenses fell away. There was nothing left there but pain, and the implications stilled Sephiroth’s breath. Time had passed. Far too much of it just as he’d suspected, and in the space between was tragedy. Sephiroth didn’t need any further confirmation. He didn’t need Zack’s familiarity, the way he finished the unsaid and paced along the rocky cliffside. Already, Sephiroth’s vision had narrowed, his hearing dulled. Something had happened in the time he’d forgotten. And no matter how he fit the pieces together, they always amounted to one truth.
Angeal was dead.
He closed his eyes, felt his lips twist in pain. Angeal. Even now, Sephiroth could nearly mistake him for the man pacing back and forth along the ocean’s edge. Even now, he could imagine Angeal standing beside him, arms crossed and expression even with that slight smirk at his lips. He had been the first to befriend him -- the first to show interest -- and without him, Sephiroth would have-
He touched at his mouth to hold back the grief that welled there. No, now was not the time for that. If he let himself waver, he would be overwhelmed. Not now. Not in front of Zack, and not when he found himself so lost in possibly hostile territory. His training wouldn’t allow for that, and he set his emotions aside on instinct. He couldn’t let his thoughts run uncontrolled and he couldn’t let his pain cloud his judgment.
In an instant his expression cleared. He doubted Zack had noticed.
Zack stopped and breathed deeply to steady himself. ”The last thing you remember.” The soldier stopped and looked at him straight on. ”And the last thing I remember are years apart from each other. If it was Wutai then I was…I was still a second class SOLDIER.”.
Sephiroth hummed his agreement. Zack still seemed out of place in a First Class uniform. Like he hadn’t quite grown into it though that was likely bias on his part. The vibrant purple of a Second far better fit his personality than the dull gray of a First.
”Damn,” Zack said and then laughed. For some reason, the laugh calmed Sephiroth as hollow as it was. Pain twinged at the edges, and Sephiroth wondered if they weren’t so different after all. “That’s gonna take some getting used to. I can’t answer a lot of questions about what happens after that, even if you ask me. My memory is all kinds of busted up.”
Sephiroth smirked faintly despite himself. Perhaps in some isolated corner of his mind, he’d developed a fondness for the soldier’s light-hearted nature. Perhaps if he really had forgotten the years between them, that dull spark had remained. Or perhaps Zack merely appealed to him in a way that Sephiroth had never noticed before. He’d never particularly given him the chance.
”Years.” He looked out to the horizon and the sweeping embrace of the sea. Its waves were endless. Crashing and fading forever upon the shore. He stepped towards it until he stood at the edge. The wind tangled in his hair, and for a moment he felt that dizzying sense of vertigo. If he only tilted forward, would he crash into the sea? Would it swallow him or would he stop himself on instinct, hovering there above its grasp? He closed his eyes and breathed bitter salt and ocean mist. He did not fall.
”Then it’s a mystery to you. How we got here.” He gave a short laugh, hardly more than a puff of air. ”None of this makes sense.”
The ocean pounded its eternal rhythm. This place was foreign to him, unfamiliar, and yet the fundamentals remained the same. The same sun smoldered against his black leather. The same wind brushed against his skin. And Zack stood behind him, incomprehensible and yet so familiar. Sephiroth tilted back his head to watch the sky.
”Angeal is dead.” It wasn’t a question. ”That’s what you’re hiding from me. There’s no other explanation.” He turned to face Zack then. Pain flared at those words, but he tried his best to smother it. ”Something in those years changed us. I wouldn’t forget him so easily.” His fist clenched and he stalked past Zack, back still turned to him. His jaw clenched and he tilted his head to glower at the ground. ”If not Hojo then something else. Something that corroded our minds.” Sephiroth let out a short scoff between his teeth.
Zack watched as Sephiroth directed his attention back to the sea, standing regally at the edge of the cliffside. That image alone, the General outlined by the setting sun, watching the world go by, would have inspired hundreds more men back home to join the army without a second thought. Even in this confusing, near horrifying time, Zack couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit of comfort. Though Sephiroth knew even less about this world and how they got there than Zack did, he still seemed to hold such control, such confidence and power that it could have fooled the black-haired soldier time and time again.
”Then it’s a mystery to you. How we got here. None of this makes sense.” Fair grunted in agreement, Sephiroth’s quiet, empty laugh shaking him somewhere within his soul. Though the sun was warming his face and he could hear the whisper of the wind through his hair, though he could smell the salty air and taste freedom, it still didn’t feel real. After all this time, after all he’d been through, Zack still had trouble believing that this wasn’t all some sort of elaborate dream. If it weren’t for the people he’d met, and the very real pain he’d experienced, maybe he would still be so delusional.
It was a mystery, and the Soldier wasn’t quite sure how to explain that to his superior. To tell him, the last he remembered was being dead. That he couldn’t remember huge chunks of his life. That he had no idea what this place was, and that they were surrounded by other people who had no idea how they got there either. Zack distracted his mind temporarily by kicking at a pebble by his feet, trying to figure out what he should tell Sephiroth next.
”Angeal is dead.” Zack froze, every muscle in his body feeling suddenly shocked, his breath stolen from his lungs. He looked to Sephiroth with wide, blue eyes, as he felt his heart begin to ache in his chest with a familiar, unbearable pain. ”That’s what you’re hiding from me. There’s no other explanation.”
“I …,” Fair swallowed as Sephiroth faced him once more, his tongue tied. Of all memories to have been able to recall, Angeal’s death was one that had come back to him. The corners of his eyes felt hot as he quickly bit down on his tongue, searching for the words to assure Sephiroth that he hadn’t been hiding it. He just had no idea that the General, well … didn’t remember. ”Something in those years changed us. I wouldn’t forget him so easily.”
“Of course not,” Zack finally babbled out, the pain glaringly obvious in his voice, just slightly higher pitched than normal, “I know you’d never forget him, Seph. No matter what. I couldn’t, either.”
God, that unbearable pain was flaring back across his chest. The mist on his eyelashes threatened to spill over as the scar on his cheek felt like it was burning. He could remember that so vividly, why, why that memory? Crouching over Angeal’s dying body, covered in blood and feathers, screaming as his closest friend breathed his last breath. Zack’s fingers trembled as he clenched his hands into fists, taking in a deep breath as Sephiroth stalked past him.
No, now wasn’t the time to fall back into that memory. The buster sword felt suddenly so, so heavy on his back, Zack feared he couldn’t move. Another life hanging on his shoulders.
He’d feel so much lighter if he could fly.
“If not Hojo then something else. Something that corroded our minds.” Fair finally turned his bright, burdened eyes back to Sephiroth’s steely gaze. The General was frustrated … No, he was angry. The kind of silent, righteous anger that Zack felt he had seen before, but couldn’t remember why or when. He was surprised the spot on the ground Sephiroth was glowering at wasn’t somehow beginning to burn. ”We’re being used.”
From the little bit Zack knew about this world, he wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. He clearly remembered the giant, demonic beast that had nearly wiped Torensten off the map. It had claimed to be a God of Chaos or something. But, he knew that not everyone who ended up in this world had their brains all scrambled up. He’d met people who remembered … everything about their lives. At least, it seemed that way, to them.
Zack crossed his arms and nodded toward the General, “You might be right. But, things are … Well, they’re more complicated than we’ve even talked about so far.”
How was he supposed to get this information out without sounding like a lunatic, though? The Soldier chewed over his words carefully, “This isn’t our world, Sephiroth. We’re … well, we’re somewhere else, some place called Zephon.”
Walking past Sephiroth, Zack uncrossed his arms and scratched at his black locks with one hand, “I’ve been here for months. I don’t know how long, exactly but … A while. And I’ve met people here that are from other worlds, and they have no idea how they got here either.”
He stopped, only five or ten paces past his superior. The Soldier sighed, winded though he hadn’t spoken much, but mentally spent. He wasn’t even close to being done, either. The crash of the waves behind them filled the silence, and Zack closed his eyes for a moment, just focusing on the sound. Would Sephiroth even believe a word he was saying? Would he accept that Zack barely had any real answers as to why or how they were there? He hadn’t really gone looking for the supposed answers out there -- he’d mostly just been trying to survive.
“The last thing I remember, before I woke up here,” Zack over his shoulder, back at Sephiroth, a frown out of place on his typically joyful face, “I … I was dead, man. I remember it so vividly. How could I be dead and then,” Fair swallowed, turning his attention away once more, looking to the tall walls of Torensten in the distance, his voice weary from over-thinking, “I end up here, alive, barely remembering anything. It doesn’t make any sense.”
If it was up to me, I'd rewrite history, and change my destiny. One last time.
