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Cloud suppressed a wince as he was slammed harshly onto the building wall. Hardly a second later, he could barely hold back a hiss of pain as Masamune pierced deep into his right shoulder, pinning him in place.
He hadn’t forgotten how tough it had been to fight Sephiroth even with his friends’ help… or maybe he had. It would explain why he was currently at the silver-haired General’s mercy. If Cloud had had a choice, he wouldn’t even want to fight anyone at all. Not Kadaj and his brothers… most definitely not Sephiroth. Facing off against Sephiroth was the last thing he had ever wanted from all those years ago. Apparently, that fact hadn’t changed.
Obviously nobody in his or her right mind would want to fight seriously against Sephiroth. He was the strongest man alive then, and even mentioning his name after his demise brought shivers to many a soul. For Cloud, however, his reasons weren’t exactly all that simple…
Cloud forced himself to look up at Sephiroth, his eyes traveling up the length of Masamune’s blade. The man’s green, cat-like eyes were glinting with malicious amusement at his predicament.
“What’s most important to you, Cloud…? Would you give me the pleasure of stealing it away from you?”
What’s most important to me? Images of Tifa, Denzel, Marlene, Aerith, Zack and all his other friends flashed through his mind. The last image that appeared, though, pained him the most: Sephiroth himself… the Sephiroth he remembered when he was still in SOLDIER.
The Sephiroth who was respected by everyone on the planet.
The Sephiroth who, despite being formidable and ruthless during battle, was really concerned about his subordinates’ welfare.
The Sephiroth whose softer side he had had the pleasure to see.
But that Sephiroth from his memories, regardless of how jumbled some of them still were, was already long gone. It had been that way for years now, and if Cloud didn’t do anything to stop the insane man before him, the world would be plunged into darkness once again.
He grabbed the long blade of Masamune, ignoring the slight sting in his palm and forcibly pulled it out of his shoulder, before stabbing it into the concrete wall behind him. Then he lashed out at Sephiroth with his own sword, to which the silver-haired man dodged deftly.
“I pity you for understanding nothing,” he bit out in an effort to ice over his heart, ignoring the slight throbbing in his shoulder as he continued to fight Sephiroth. He didn’t want to say those words to the silver-haired man… nor did he want to do what he was planning to, but for the sake of the world, he had to.
Even if it meant killing the person – even if said person was nothing more than an empty shell with demonic intent – he had always loved for the third time.
“There’s nothing that isn’t important to me.” That includes you, too, Sephiroth… But I have to do this…
…
Looking up at the figure of Sephiroth hovering in the sky, Cloud murmured something that, to him, was a disguised plea, “Stay there for me… trapped in my memories.”
Let this be the last time I face you as a foe… the last time that I have to face the prospect of being the one who can kill you… of being the one to kill you. Thrice is more than enough, Sephiroth.
“I will… never be just a memory.”
Cloud dared to wonder if that could be a good thing.
But for now, the last memory of such a promise by his one-winged angel was enough.