Chapter 31

Changes

Sephiroth was dreaming. At least, he assumed he was as he chased a peculiar woman. Both he and she rode a black motorcycle, lifting dust in their wake. She was a ways ahead of him, her long curled hair floating wildly behind her small yet strong back, sheathed in a skin-tight black leather outfit.

As she gained speed, the swordsman began to worry she might escape him. For some reason, he wanted badly to catch the girl and hold her so tight her bones might break. Teeth clenched, muscles tense, Sephiroth pushed his bike to its limits. Some part of him figured that if it was indeed a dream, he only had to wish, and would get what he wanted.

So, by the magic of his subconscious, his bike quickly took advance on her. The man smiled smugly. She would not slip past his fingers. No one ever did, and this foolish girl certainly wouldn't be the first. As he reached her side, Sephiroth stretched an arm to catch hers.

Then, suddenly, the woman found herself standing in front of him. Both their motorcycles laid on the ground beside them, discarded and forgotten. Sephiroth's smile widened; another mind trick and his prey was caught without effort.

The girl's green, hateful eyes caught his. Sephiroth's breath caught, his heart skipped a beat. Those were Aerith's eyes. Her beautiful emeralds stared daggers at him. She drew her sword as he stood frozen, his smile replaced by a panicked frown.

"Let me be, bastard," she growled, the tip of her deadly katana pointed at him.

The swordsman did not even move to grip his Masamune. His wide eyes simply took on the sight of her, this girl who looked just like his love. But she wasn't. Her long, curled silver hair reached her waist. She was a lot taller than Aerith…and looked fiercer. Deadly.

The girl was his daughter.

'I have no child, nor will I ever make one,' the warrior reasoned.

They both stood silent for what seemed like an eternity, waiting for the other to move first. The wind gently blew Sephiroth's cape behind him in a soft whisper.

The swordsman's heart screamed at him to lunge at the girl and hold her. She was his; he knew that much, no matter what logic told him. So, he discarded said logic, and strode toward her.

The weapon in her hand never faltered as he fiercely grabbed her shoulders and crushed her against his chest. The following instant, Sephiroth felt a burning pain stab at him. His daughter's sword, he knew, now protruded from behind his back.

He met her eyes, coughing blood. Restrained tears glistened in those lovely emeralds. Next to them, the fallen city of Midgar towered triumphantly, mocking him.

"Why?" he managed to choke out. Droplets of blood fell on her porcelain face.

"Because an inferior being like you could never be my father. You're a weakling. I warned you before, to stay out of my way. I only kept my promise to kill you."

Sephiroth felt a tear roll down his cheek; an unfamiliar sensation, warm, salty…and weak.

The moment his body fell to the ground, at his daughter's feet, the swordsman jolted awake. His own frantic heartbeat resonated throughout his ribcage as he tried to catch his breath.

Dawn was on its way, coloring the sky with ominous red clouds. Like in his dream, Midgar stood a good distance to his left, bathed in crimson light. The sight was frightening; a once powerful city, fallen by his own hand, reduced to a pile of rust covered in lichen.

A carcass was what Sephiroth had found while following Zack for most of the night. The former soldier seemed to have taken a liking to the place, for he came back as soon as Aerith went home.

As much as Sephiroth had wanted to see her on this night, their first as official lovers, his curiosity had taken him over. The opportunity to speak with Zack again, if only to discover his intentions regarding a certain flower girl, had felt rather appealing. Why, he wasn't quite sure. Maybe jealousy drove him, or the need to hear the voice of a man he could still call a friend; the only one who hadn't betrayed or left him. Worse, he was the one who betrayed Zack, and even destroyed his life. Indirectly, maybe, but still…

In all honesty, Sephiroth knew Zack was a far better man for Aerith than he. Yet, the silver haired man's selfishness was no secret, even for himself. The girl was his; he cared for her, deeply, and finally admitted it.

Well aware that she most likely didn't sleep all night, wondering why he didn't come visit her, the swordsman rose to his full height. Midgar's shadow covered him like a funeral veil, bringing his strange dream back to memory.

He remembered his daughter's words, just before her blade ran through him. Those were the same words he said to his own mother, when he finally met her. If she had thrown herself at him, instead of heeding his advice, Lucrecia would have died in much the same way he did in that dream. A horrible death that had sent chills down his spine, even though it wasn't real.

Annoyed, Sephiroth tried to discard the memory by telling himself that he indeed had no child and never would. But, his last night with Aerith invaded his mind like a bright red flag. He hadn't even thought about using protection. For all he knew, his beloved flower might be pregnant, right about now.

'Well, I'll be damned…' the swordsman cursed, feeling like a complete idiot.

He didn't need a child, and certainly didn't want one. However, for the love of whatever god ruled this forsaken planet, it was only a dream. Dreams didn't come true.

Nonetheless, the silver haired man couldn't help pondering what would happen if they had conceived. Raised by an uninterested, distant and harsh father like himself, would his child eventually master the too popular art of hating him?

His mother didn't want him, and here he was, hating her for it.

And right now, he realized, Sephiroth felt like thanking her. She had given him life, and thus a chance to be with Aerith. Without his crazy mother, the swordsman realized, his existence would have been as ordinary and pathetic as anyone else's. But because of her, he became a legend. A hated one, maybe, but still…

The swordsman sighed, suddenly feeling lighter than ever. A seemingly useless dream had somehow lifted a weight off of his shoulders. He took a step toward Midgar's horrid skeleton as he caught sight of something white; it was a patch of blooming flowers, growing right where the earth used to be dry and sterile.

'Flowers blooming in Midgar… I suppose only destruction could bring salvation, in this place,' Sephiroth thought, crouching to pick one small bud.

A slight smirk touched the man's lips; maybe his ways weren't so bad, after all.

The flower carefully tucked between his gloved fingers, Sephiroth rose. Reassuring Aerith could wait. Tifa was home anyway, so he had a full day in front of him.

Right now, he needed to pay his mother a visit.

For the hundredth time since Tifa had left to work, Aerith peered through the kitchen window. Only a few minutes had ticked by since the barmaid's departure, but to the flower girl, alone in the silent home, it felt like eternity.

With a sigh, Aerith dragged her feet to the lounge and let herself fall on the couch. Sephyrith, for once, wasn't around, and she honestly didn't care much. The only thing she could think about was him. Would he come to see her and explain himself? Or had he decided to disappear from her life completely? The possibility itself was enough to make Aerith's heart drown in despair.

Fortunately, Zack had spent the whole day with her. From the moment she opened her eyes in the morning, to the instant Tifa left, he was there, proudly wearing that childish grin of his. The man's strong and endearing presence had been enough to keep Aerith's thoughts from wandering too much towards Sephiroth. But, now that silence invaded the room, the air felt heavy on her shoulders; heavy with dread and solitude.

'He will come tonight,' the brunette tried to convince herself, even thought the man was already late.

Cupping her face in her hands, Aerith stayed immobile, not daring to go to her room. In there, the quietness seemed even worse, and shadows drawn by the moonlight danced on the walls, mocking her.

As sadness threatened to engulf her, Aerith almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of the doorbell. It rang once, ripping mercilessly through the cold silence. Heart beating savagely against her ribcage, she jumped to her feet and sprinted to the front door. The visitor rang for a second time as she opened… and squealed with happiness at seeing Sephiroth, lying nonchalantly against the doorframe.

"Where were you?" Aerith exclaimed, momentarily forgetting about the fact that Tifa's bar was just on the other side of the street.

The woman could easily see them if she peered through the window. However, right now, Tifa's wrath was the last of her worries as she threw her arms around the man's powerful neck.

"I had some… business to attend to," the silver haired man eluded.

"What business? I was worried sick, I thought you…," Aerith removed herself from him, lowered her eyes to the ground as she blushed, "I thought you decided to leave me."

"Ridiculous," Sephiroth retorted smoothly.

His whole body radiating an unusual serenity, the man stepped inside, carefully closing the door behind him.

Aerith, however, wasn't about to let him get away without a proper answer. Putting a hand on her hip, she poked him in the chest, locking eyes with her secretive lover.

"You could have passed by to tell me you wouldn't visit me yesterday… I had… a special place to show you," she declared accusingly.

"Yes, I know. I found the place myself, and that's why I didn't come. I needed to explore Midgar by myself," Sephiroth explained flatly.

Dumbfounded, the brunette could only stare at him. A satisfied smirk drawing itself on his lips, the man removed her hand from his chest and placed a kiss on the tip of her finger.

"How… how did you find the place?" she stammered, weak in the knees as his lips teased her skin.

"I have my ways. The important thing is; I am now the one who wants to surprise you."

Aerith lifted a questioning eyebrow, but felt a treacherous smile tug at her lips.

"Really? What trick are you planning now?" she asked eagerly, like a little girl waiting to get her birthday present.

"In a few days, I will show you. Until then…," Sephiroth's velvet voice dropped to a murmur as he got closer, "I have to make amends for yesterday."

The flower girl's repressed smile turned into a mischievous grin.

"You do, indeed."

The silver haired man's arm sneaked around her waist. In a moment, she was spun around and found herself lying under him, on the couch. For a second, her mind registered how risky this situation could become. But, that was before Sephiroth's kiss blew the last of her reason away.

As much as time had felt like an eternity a few moments before, Aerith lost track of it as leather straps were undone heatedly, followed by any piece of clothing that got in her way. Sephiroth stripped the flower girl of her garments with just as much greed; if not more.

Nonetheless, her dress was still on when she felt his welcomed invasion. Unwilling to wait another second, the silver haired man had simply removed the essential and lifted the skirt to her hips. The top buttons of the dress were open, leaving her collarbone and upper chest bare for his assault.

Something had changed in the way Sephiroth touched her. For the first time, she could truly feel his heart, not only his body. The difference was slight, intangible, yet strong enough to drive her mad.

The world had disappeared around them; at least, until the front door opened. A cry of shock almost gave the lovers a heart attack as reality crumbled on them like a ton of bricks. They had been caught.

A/N: Sorry for the (once again) long wait. But, I can ... proudly say that this story will soon be completed. I hope this chapter isn't filled with mistakes. I am rather busy these days (almost ready to try to publish my first book...) so I can't really work too hard on my fic. I hope you can forgive me; at least I refuse to leave it unfinished. You readers and (especially) reviewers deserve an ending, and you will get it.