Cell Division | By : Savaial Category: Final Fantasy VII > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2025 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy. It belongs to SquareEnix. I do not make any money from these writings, nor do I wish to. The original creators have all my respect, from game designers to voice actors. |
“May I feel them again?”
I hadn’t heard him enter. I felt like absolute shit and probably resembled it, too. “Yes, of course,” I said, pushing my chair back. I felt a bit frightened to have him looming over me, but I squashed the feeling down. He took off his gloves and put both hands on me carefully. Again his face assumed an expression of wonder. “Do they do this all the time?”
“Yes.”
“How do you rest?”
“I don’t rest very much,” I admitted. I found it encouraging that Sephiroth showed such interest in his siblings. I didn’t fear he would kill us, now. “But, I love them and having them move is reassuring. If they didn’t move I’d worry.”
Sephiroth nodded. He went to his chair and sat, eyes affixed to my belly. “Aiko for the girl’s name,” he said. “It means child of love.”
“Aiko,” I repeated. “Wutainian. I like it.” It was appropriate, too. “And the boy’s name?”
“Kai.” Sephiroth smiled. “Also Wutainian, it means forgiveness. I see you have a lot of that quality, so perhaps he will, too.” Suddenly, he yawned.
“Sleepy?”
“Yes. Hojo kept me awake last night.” Sephiroth lost his smile. “He talks in his sleep sometimes. You probably knew that.”
“Could you understand what he said?”
“Yes, though he spoke in Wutainian.” Sephiroth made a face. “I don’t think he’s ever going to get over you.”
What could I say to that?
“You’re still not over him, either,” he continued.
“No.” I lowered my eyes. “No, I’m not.”
“You think I’m cruel, don’t you?” he asked.
“I think you need your father and I threaten you.”
Sephiroth scowled. “You evaded answering.”
“No, Sephiroth, I don’t think you’re cruel. It’s spiteful of you to separate us, but I don’t think you’re inherently unkind.”
For a long time he didn’t speak. Then, he heaved a large sigh. “It’s easy for me to see why he likes you. I just don’t see why you like him.” He shook his head. “Do you know what he does to people?”
“Yes.”
“And you don’t care?”
“I do care.”
“How can you like someone who does bad things?”
“I like you, too, Sephiroth.”
“You must be as crazy as him.” Sephiroth got up. “I shouldn’t take therapy from a mad woman. I’m fucked up enough.”
“I’m not crazy. Sit back down, please.” I held up my hands. “Look, human beings are complicated creatures. Often, what you like and what you don’t like can’t be reasoned out.”
“I have firm likes and dislikes,” he replied.
“I’m sure you do; you’re a very determined individual and you have strict ways of thinking. For the sake of your nerves I believe you could stand a little loosening.”
“What do you suggest?” He actually looked interested. I had his full attention.
“Honestly, I’d start with comedy,” I told him. “Laughter is a medicine, truly.”
Sephiroth sat quietly a moment. “Live comedy?”
“Start with television.”
“I don’t watch television.”
“Neither does your father,” I said wryly, thinking of how I’d sold my television set. “TV is an interesting study, though. People create worlds for the enjoyment of others. Some shows are terrible and some are great.”
“I don’t know if I have the patience to sit long enough for a show.”
I thought for a moment. “Follow me, please,” I said, getting up.
I led him into my living room and went for my bookshelves. “You enjoy reading, I’ve noticed,” I said, running my fingers over book spines as I searched. “How about comedy in book form?”
“As long as it isn’t stupid.” Sephiroth scanned titles. “Have you read all of these?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve read a lot.” He paused. “Won’t you miss what you lend to me?”
“I remember every word I’ve ever read, Sephiroth. I have a photographic memory.” I pulled out a fantasy series I recalled as humorous, and handed them to him. “I could sit down and re-write all of these if I lost them.”
He stared at me. “What a burden,” he commented.
He was the first person to ever call my “gift” by what I considered it. Surprised, I returned his stare. He shrugged. “I would hate having perfect recall. To me, it’s a blessing to have a patchy memory. I wish often I could forget certain things.”
“Like what, Sephiroth?” I asked softly.
His eyes darkened measurably. “Nibelheim and the scent of blood mingling with lilies.”
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