[ A pebble is a rock. They line the pathway to the front door of her home, back beneath the plate. They play home to bugs you can only see when you life them up, look beneath the surface. Aerith imagines Cloud turning stones over in his mind, inspecting the pathway to the answer he's trying to give her— whatever it may be. She nods as she listens, attentive and careful as always, green gaze burning with curiosity. It slips away at the mention of Sephiroth's name. ]
Is that how you know him? Sephiroth.
[ In another world, Cloud's recounting of this story would not be to one person. She isn't capable of feeling guilty for being there for him, but something presses into her spine, straightens it out coldly. Pay attention. He said fire. She has an idea of where this is going. ]
Yeah, we were in SOLDIER together. But he was on a whole other level, even back then. I could hardly keep up.
[ He remembers the feelings of inadequacy, even back then. Remembers Sephiroth being able to casually swat down monsters like flies. ]
But he wasn't like... how you've seen him. He was... I don't know. Normal. Normal enough.[ It's such a strange idea, now. A Sephiroth who was worried about Cloud's safety. About his fatigue. ] He didn't exactly like the attention, but I can't say I blame him. Way everyone was fawning over him when we got to Nibelheim, no one even looked at me.
[ In retrospect, it was stupid. Real stupid. Become a SOLDIER for the glory? Yeah, right. Once you became a SOLDIER, everyone looked at you the same — a mix of pity, awe, or suspicion — depending on where they fell on loyalty to Shinra. ]
So he spent most of the night holed up in his room at the inn, I took a bit of time to take in the sights, and the next morning we made the trek up the mountain.
[ "Normal" isn't how she'd describe Sephiroth, no, and it's nearly impossible for her to pick out any instance of imagining him as such. As she listens, she tries to put Cloud next to him, tries to imagine what their teamwork might have been like. It's difficult. There's no smile on her face as she drinks in Cloud's memories. ]
You grew up with Tifa, right? So, she'd know this mountain, wouldn't she?
[ Instinct pulls the question out of her. Where is Tifa Lockhart when you need her, honestly? ]
[ Where is Tifa when you need her? The golden question, but Cloud manages to meet Aerith's gaze for a moment as she asks. His eyes are shifting around a lot as he recounts the tale. Not looking at Aerith or the nearby bonfire. Seeming smaller, almost, in their gaze. ]
Right. Tifa's dad actually was the one who helped guide people up the mountain, when we were little. It's a pretty dangerous climb, so you usually need a guide. Tifa managed to browbeat her dad into letting her take us up.
And Mt. Nibel was feeling pretty capricious that day. The usual route was out, so we had to take a detour, and a rope bridge gave out while we were on it. We lost half of the escort Shinra had sent with Sephiroth and I on the way up. And that was before you factor in the monsters on the trail.
[ He trails off, suddenly, his eyes looking down at the ground, his brow furrowed. There's that creeping feeling, that something about what he's saying, what he's reliving, is the same as those memories this place gave him. ]
But that was nothing compared to what we found inside the reactor. That's... [ His voice gets low. ]
[ A shift comes to pass in front of his face. Aerith sees it plainly, spots it like she can spot a storm cloud in the hole sat over her church in Sector 5. It hangs heavy, disruptive. ]
Cloud? [ She closes the distance, free of hesitation. With worry in her butterfly green gaze, Aerith peers up at Cloud, head tilted gently, as though staring at him from a different angle might unearth what's settled onto him like a boulder. ]
[ The closer he gets to the climax of the tale, the harder it is to continue. He pauses, drawing a breath. It seems harder, right now. Like the story itself is trying to choke him to death. His eyes meet hers, briefly, the luminescent green of mako gleaming in the firelight, almost eclipsing any of his natural blue. ]
...When we got there, Sephiroth had made it plain — don't speak to anyone about what we were going to find. And despite being such an old reactor, it was still drawing Mako at full steam. Not like the other older reactors.
It turns out it was being used for... experiments. Test subjects of Hojo's, infused with mako on a cellular level. Animals. Monsters.
Humans. Or they were, once upon a time. They didn't look anything like you or me.
And the door to the reactor's core had a single name engraved overtop it. [ He lets himself say the word after a pause. He needs to get this right. He's the only one who can. ]
"Jenova". On the way to Nibelheim, Sephiroth had said that was his mother's name. I don't... know if he knew.
[ She's trying to picture it. The image comes to her like a wave crashing on the beach, knocking over a sandcastle. Experiments. Always experiments. Aerith is watching him now, sympathy flooding her as quickly as worry had. She knows what it's like, to be an experiment of Hojo's. Her mother's fact fills her thoughts, the sad way she'd looked when she hunched behind the couch to take her medicine. Away from Aerith, protecting her like always. In that moment, she understands why her mother did such a thing. ]
Jenova.
[ The taste of its name is familiarly bitter on Aerith's tongue. ]
[ He can only press on. Not much farther to go in the tale, now. ]
Sephiroth... took the experiments hard. We cleaned them out, and headed back for the inn, but he didn't speak to anyone once he got back. And in the middle of the night, he left for the Shinra Manor, the old building on the outskirts of town, before you hit the mountain trail. It was... basically an old research facility, before Shinra got really big.
He found a basement none of us knew about, he reading old... scientific journals, I think. Research notes. About the Jenova Project. Shinra's initiative to revive the Ancients. He wouldn't talk to me when I first found him down there.
[ Again and again, doubt nags at Cloud. There had to have been something. Should he have been more insistent in pulling Sephiroth away from those old books? Just one more question about those night he'll never find the answer to. Frustration and grief knot together the features on his face, impossible to untangle one and not the other. ]
This went on for days. I couldn't really wrap my brain around what he was reading, so I finally marched my ass back down there to get some answers from the guy.
But by that point... it was too late. He was— well, as you know him. He told me Shinra had created him as part of the Jenova project, and that 'Mother is waiting'. I tried to get him to hold up, but he tossed me aside like a rag doll. Hit the wall so hard I blacked out.
[ Cloud's hands tighten into balled fists, saved only from drawing blood by the leather gloves he wears. His body is coiled tighter than a spring. His jaw sets and he stares at a point in the sand below him, refusing to look upward. ]
If I had come to sooner, I could have tried to do something — anything — about what happened next.
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expiationlogs2024-06-10 07:58 am
no subject
Is that how you know him? Sephiroth.
[ In another world, Cloud's recounting of this story would not be to one person. She isn't capable of feeling guilty for being there for him, but something presses into her spine, straightens it out coldly. Pay attention. He said fire. She has an idea of where this is going. ]
no subject
[ He remembers the feelings of inadequacy, even back then. Remembers Sephiroth being able to casually swat down monsters like flies. ]
But he wasn't like... how you've seen him. He was... I don't know. Normal. Normal enough. [ It's such a strange idea, now. A Sephiroth who was worried about Cloud's safety. About his fatigue. ] He didn't exactly like the attention, but I can't say I blame him. Way everyone was fawning over him when we got to Nibelheim, no one even looked at me.
[ In retrospect, it was stupid. Real stupid. Become a SOLDIER for the glory? Yeah, right. Once you became a SOLDIER, everyone looked at you the same — a mix of pity, awe, or suspicion — depending on where they fell on loyalty to Shinra. ]
So he spent most of the night holed up in his room at the inn, I took a bit of time to take in the sights, and the next morning we made the trek up the mountain.
no subject
You grew up with Tifa, right? So, she'd know this mountain, wouldn't she?
[ Instinct pulls the question out of her. Where is Tifa Lockhart when you need her, honestly? ]
no subject
Right. Tifa's dad actually was the one who helped guide people up the mountain, when we were little. It's a pretty dangerous climb, so you usually need a guide. Tifa managed to browbeat her dad into letting her take us up.
And Mt. Nibel was feeling pretty capricious that day. The usual route was out, so we had to take a detour, and a rope bridge gave out while we were on it. We lost half of the escort Shinra had sent with Sephiroth and I on the way up. And that was before you factor in the monsters on the trail.
[ He trails off, suddenly, his eyes looking down at the ground, his brow furrowed. There's that creeping feeling, that something about what he's saying, what he's reliving, is the same as those memories this place gave him. ]
But that was nothing compared to what we found inside the reactor. That's... [ His voice gets low. ]
That's where it all went wrong.
no subject
Cloud? [ She closes the distance, free of hesitation. With worry in her butterfly green gaze, Aerith peers up at Cloud, head tilted gently, as though staring at him from a different angle might unearth what's settled onto him like a boulder. ]
What went wrong?
[ She can guess. But could it be true? ]
no subject
...When we got there, Sephiroth had made it plain — don't speak to anyone about what we were going to find. And despite being such an old reactor, it was still drawing Mako at full steam. Not like the other older reactors.
It turns out it was being used for... experiments. Test subjects of Hojo's, infused with mako on a cellular level. Animals. Monsters.
Humans. Or they were, once upon a time. They didn't look anything like you or me.
And the door to the reactor's core had a single name engraved overtop it. [ He lets himself say the word after a pause. He needs to get this right. He's the only one who can. ]
"Jenova". On the way to Nibelheim, Sephiroth had said that was his mother's name. I don't... know if he knew.
no subject
Jenova.
[ The taste of its name is familiarly bitter on Aerith's tongue. ]
That's not what went wrong, though... is it?
no subject
[ He can only press on. Not much farther to go in the tale, now. ]
Sephiroth... took the experiments hard. We cleaned them out, and headed back for the inn, but he didn't speak to anyone once he got back. And in the middle of the night, he left for the Shinra Manor, the old building on the outskirts of town, before you hit the mountain trail. It was... basically an old research facility, before Shinra got really big.
He found a basement none of us knew about, he reading old... scientific journals, I think. Research notes. About the Jenova Project. Shinra's initiative to revive the Ancients. He wouldn't talk to me when I first found him down there.
[ Again and again, doubt nags at Cloud. There had to have been something. Should he have been more insistent in pulling Sephiroth away from those old books? Just one more question about those night he'll never find the answer to. Frustration and grief knot together the features on his face, impossible to untangle one and not the other. ]
This went on for days. I couldn't really wrap my brain around what he was reading, so I finally marched my ass back down there to get some answers from the guy.
But by that point... it was too late. He was— well, as you know him. He told me Shinra had created him as part of the Jenova project, and that 'Mother is waiting'. I tried to get him to hold up, but he tossed me aside like a rag doll. Hit the wall so hard I blacked out.
[ Cloud's hands tighten into balled fists, saved only from drawing blood by the leather gloves he wears. His body is coiled tighter than a spring. His jaw sets and he stares at a point in the sand below him, refusing to look upward. ]
If I had come to sooner, I could have tried to do something — anything — about what happened next.