Chapter Text
On the seventh day prior to the New Year, when the Sun had yet to rise to welcome Gaia and all her living things, Sephiroth listened to the rain pattering on the roof above his head—his unique-since-birth teal eyes transfixed on the ceiling shrouded in the dark of early morning. Lying next to him on the same bed and facing his side was Zack, traversing the dreamland with gentle snores and his spiky black hair in an unkempt state. The blanket shared by both of them covered only Zack’s lower half, leaving the shirtless upper half exposed for Sephiroth to see.
Contrary to Zack, Sephiroth donned a loose black t-shirt with a somewhat intentionally-faded design of Stamp the Dog riding on a Chocobo, and gray sweatpants for the lower half.
Still, for the past fifteen minutes after waking up, Sephiroth found himself focusing more on the rain and the roof. Was Zack not a person of interest for him? Absolutely not. In all the months, or almost over a year now, they had been together ever since they made a bilateral decision to desert the company in Nibelheim—the abyss Sephiroth almost freefalling into, but rescued by Zack just in time—both of them became an inseparable, integral part of each other’s lives. And for Sephiroth to break his attention from the ceiling, all it took would be a simple—
—light rustling on the fabric from Zack’s side of the bed. It diverted Sephiroth from focusing on up above to right beside him, noticing Zack shifted his body to be slightly closer to Sephiroth. Between them, around the area where the lower edges of their pillows met with the bed sheet, was a space wide enough for a pair of hands to meet and intertwine.
Sephiroth repositioned himself, moving just a tad closer to Zack—the place for their hands to join left unaffected by this change. He turned to his side, directing the attention of his eyes to the still-sleeping Zack—taking notice of the hand that was closest to him. With a faint, glad smile, Sephiroth took Zack’s hand in a slow and caring manner and guided it to its destination on the empty space reserved for both of their hands.
Among the various activities Sephiroth has taken a liking to do with Zack, holding hands was in the top-five. The rest were hugging, kissing, whispering words of endearment, and dancing as a pair in their own house. Though, it was more likely than not that Sephiroth never bothered to rank any of them. They were all his favorites.
Placing his own hand underneath Zack’s, letting it be blanketed by the warmth of the palm of his dearly beloved companion, Sephiroth awaited for Zack to wake up—greeting him with those sky-blue eyes he considered his home, his light at the end of the tunnel.
Of all the sights and wonders in various regions of Gaia, to Sephiroth, nothing was comparable to Zack—the walking, breathing proof of Gaia’s beauty.
The snores stopped. Small groans, a light stretch, and the eyes of Fair opening—blinking—to see Sephiroth having his gaze directed at him. Zack shot a sleepy smile back. He noticed a texture underneath his palm wasn’t of fabric, but that of a living thing.
It was Sephiroth’s hand, resting underneath it with no anxieties of tomorrow and the day to come.
Without a second thought, or a predetermined decision, relying solely on what his heart had found to be true, Zack pushed his fingers through the gaps between Sephiroth’s fingers—interlacing his hand with that of the teal-eyed darling.
Such a simple gesture, yet, its recurrences aided them in their darkest hours. The origin of it rooted in camaraderie both had for the other, and evolved into something much deeper, much stronger.
“Up already?” Zack asked, soft.
“You could say that,” Sephiroth replied, in a similar manner.
Teal and sky-blue looking into one another, peering into the windows to see the souls residing within.
“When’d you wake up?” Zack inquired.
“About fifteen minutes ago,” Sephiroth answered, a slight hint of a burden he was still carrying with him manifested itself through his voice.
“Nightmare?”
“Not exactly. Just…the past.” Sephiroth’s words trailed into a small, short weary sigh right after. A change in expression on Zack’s face as it turned from content to concern.
“Wanna talk about it?” Zack asked, not to analyze but to understand.
“Maybe later,” Sephiroth replied, bringing their entwined hands up close to his lips, giving Zack’s a good morning kiss—delicate and honest. Zack was someone he could confide in, regardless of topics. The trust both had for each other was forged in fire and hardship, tested by tragedies and battles.
On their bodies, scars might not be as visible—aided by part from their enhancements. Only when through an electron microscope then those scars might reveal themselves, etching on the cell membrane. The most visible one of all was the X-shaped scar on Zack’s left cheek—the side Sephiroth often frequented his kisses to.
“That’s okay. When you’re ready, I’ll be here,” Zack reassured. “And as much as I’d like to continue doing this, I gotta go take a leak,” he added, referring to the hand-holding and his need to use the bathroom all in one sentence. Sephiroth chuckled in reply.
Zack got up, turning the side of his and Sephiroth’s joined hands to that of the latter to give it a playful and sincere quick kiss. He let go of his hand, only because nature called. Sephiroth watched as Zack, wearing matching sweatpants, entered the bathroom a few steps away from where the bed was. With the door only half-closed, Sephiroth could see the warm yellow light of the lightbulb illuminated some parts of the bathroom—particularly the area of the mirror and the sink.
Zack disappeared into the side where the toilet was, and reappeared a few minutes later. He washed his hands, peeking at the reflection of Sephiroth on the bed in the mirror. Oh, what a wonderful sight it was—made better by seeing Sephiroth never left his sight off of him.
With his morning bodily duty, for now, completed and his hand fully dried by the hand towel, Zack returned to the bed—placing himself close to Sephiroth again. He wrapped his arm around Sephiroth, whose head found itself resting on Zack’s chest with one ear listening to the heartbeat of Fair. Almost akin to a biological reaction, this made Sephiroth close his eyes. He was at peace. Where there was Zack, there was home.
Zack ran his fingers through the silver hair, kneading the head wherever he could, eliciting a response from Sephiroth in the form of a satisfied murmur.
Outside, the rain started to subside, with the Sun right around the horizon awaiting its time for the daily job of awakening Gaia and her children.
Here, in Gongaga, a place Sephiroth and Zack had settled down for the foreseeable future, the Sun seemed eager to fulfill its duty. Aerith, one of their closest friends, once applauded the scenery of the village in the morning to that of a painting during her visit some time ago—right around the time the construction of their house was completed. Their first neighbor was no other than Zack’s parents, who had welcomed Sephiroth as a part of their family.
Having a place to truly call a home, after being on the run from the company, was already a gift in itself. But to get to share it with Zack, and to be considered a son to Mr. and Mrs. Fair was almost too good to be true for Sephiroth.
From his dark days of being a child shut off from the world—tested on by a mad scientist and his equally uncaring crew, to a teenager thrusted into a war to do the company’s dirty deeds, and as a grown man used as a tool for destruction and indoctrination. Freedom was a luxury he could not afford.
He was a kite dancing in an endless, ferocious storm.
Yet, all storms must come to an end—including the one he was in.
After Nibelheim , and the eventual downfall of Shin-Ra, General Sephiroth was no more—ceasing to exist for good. He was now just Sephiroth, or Seph. In one of the rooms of his heart, a wish awaited its time to come out. It was a simple wish, nothing grandiose—at least, to Sephiroth. To Zack, maybe it would be a big of a deal but in all the right ways.
The wish was to finally have a last name, and that it’d be “Fair”.
The pair more or less went back to sleep, with Sephiroth being the first to take the trip to the boundless grassland—ever-swaying with gentle touches of the wind and warmth from the clear sky above. In the not-too-far distance, he saw Zack, dressed in the 1st class SOLDIER uniform but without the Buster Sword. Zack turned around, smiling and waving at him. He waved back, approaching the other with unhurried steps, and a gladful smile on his face.
Zack followed suit, finding himself watching past moments he shared with Sephiroth in a room with wall-to-wall square-shaped monitors—the ceiling lit with white fluorescent tubes. On the seemingly endless streams of screens, he saw all their ups and downs, all their joy and delight, all their agony and suffering, all that made Sephiroth and him the people they were today.
On the right side of his shoulder, a hand tapped on it. Zack turned to see it was Sephiroth, signaling to approach a teal-colored exit door at the other end of the room. As Sephiroth led the way, Zack stayed close to him.
Hours passed, and the rain had stopped for good. The Sun clocked in for its duty of the day, with Gaia and various forms of life waking up for a brand new day. The alarm clock by the nightstand on Sephiroth’s side beeped rhythmically, prompting him to gradually open his eyes. He reached for it, turning off the alarm—all while still being in Zack’s embrace. It was now nine in the morning, their usual time for a light exercise if either felt like it, and breakfast.
The still-asleep Zack was snoring again, adorable and amusing to Sephiroth. Across from them, a ray of light sneaked past through a tiny gap between two curtains and onto the headboard—inches away from being directly on Zack’s face.
A small sway from Zack got him into the line of light, shining over the left side of his face. Instead of waking him up, Sephiroth waited to see how Zack would react. Just harmless fun to start the day.
Little grumpy noises and a scrunchy face revealed themselves for Sephiroth to see. He couldn’t help but to let out a soft chuckle. One of the perks of being the person who usually woke up first was getting to look at what Zack would do in the seconds, or minutes, before him being awake. The other day, Zack was mumbling his name. Two days before, he was smiling in his sleep.
With his half-opened eyes noticing there was direct sunlight in his line of sight, Zack called upon the service of his hand—palm side facing outward—from the side not occupied with keeping Sephiroth close to him to do its job of protecting his eyes from the light. He moved somewhat to the right, out of this mild annoyance.
Lowering his hand, he saw a wide-awake Sephiroth looking right at him—sporting a light smirk and tender gaze. What a beautiful sight to witness.
“Morning. Slept better this time?” Zack asked, sitting up against the headboard.
Sephiroth nodded. “Much better. I dreamt, too.”
“Was it a good one?”
“You were there. So, definitely. How about you?”
“Oh, me? Uh, I don’t exactly know how to explain mine…but you were there so it all worked out!” Zack explained, best he could, before ending it with a giggle. “Anyway, wanna work out before breakfast?”
Sephiroth sat up, positioning himself in such a way that his sight would still be in the same level as Zack’s. “I would like to suggest sword sparring, but given the hour of the day, I would be alright with the usual.”
The last time they spared in the morning, they ended up putting on a free show for the whole village to see. Zack was flustered, embarrassed, apologizing to the townspeople for causing a ruckus. Though, both agreed there was much enjoyment to be gained.
“Alrighty, I’ll prep myself then!” Zack announced, with a sudden surge of energy beaming to every inch of the room—despite being fully-awake just a few minutes ago. But how could he not be? Especially when it was about starting the day with his favorite person, and spending the rest of the day, night, and the tomorrows to come with the same person he had made a home with.
Zack leapt out of bed, stretching, with his back turned to Sephiroth. The latter found himself mesmerized by how attractive the physique of his lover was. How fortunate it was for Sephiroth, for not only he got to admire the body of Fair with his eyes, but with his lips and his hands.
Sephiroth would also mention, what was most important of all was what was inside. He had seen his fair share of handsome men and beautiful cadets under his command, and heard whispers of after dark stories about how he was the object of their carnal desires—the Forbidden Fruit of Shin-Ra.
He was their fantasy, weapon and propaganda. He was to be feared. To be respected at all costs. To most, he was many—but never simply “Sephiroth” to them.
Most of the time, Sephiroth couldn’t care less. It was during the lonely hours, where most operations in the HQ had died down, that he did mind about these things. The sterile metallic ceiling both in his office and personal quarter offered no condolences, only reminders of his solitude.
That was, until he became acquainted with Zack—the person who turned his world upside down. Multiple missions and conversations later, Zack became his friend, the one he told his locked away feelings to.
To Sephiroth, Zack was the person who introduced him to alternative ways to live a life. The person he had a crush on. The person he fell for. The person he confessed to. The person he gave his first kiss to, and many ones after. The person he now shared a life with.
Nothing else in his life was as satisfying as the presence of Zack being near him.
When he was done with stretching, Zack gave his face a quick wash and his teeth a brush. He styled his hair with water to make it less unkempt, albeit still spiky as always. After Zack, it was Sephiroth’s turn—whose pre-exercise routine was mostly the same as Zack’s.
Appropriately-sized puddles of water in Sephiroth’s hands graced his face, its temperature a little colder due to the rain from before. He brushed his teeth, thorough and careful. On the lower end of the handle of his toothbrush, his name—in cursive—was engraved on it. Zack bought a matching for him and Sephiroth, his own having his initials “Z.F.” in the same style on it.
For his hair, Sephiroth took less time than during his Shin-Ra days—thanks to him now sporting a shoulder-length hairstyle. Sephiroth had considered cutting it short to match the style his teenage self had. Of course, Zack might give him an adorable pout in protest of this idea, but not that he would mind.
By the closet placed next to the side Sephiroth slept, Zack had already finished dressing up—wearing a t-shirt with a Cactuar doing its famous pose with the phrase “Let’s Work Out!” in bold over it. On his feet, black ankle socks were chosen for this morning. Sephiroth went over to the same spot, opting for a running shirt and quarter-length socks of more or less the same shade of black as Zack’s.
Before heading down, Sephiroth tied his hair with a hair tie—handmade by Marlene and given to him as a gift to congratulate him and Zack on having a home of their own. Turning to face each other, the couple did warm-ups before their morning run. Ever since living here, Sephiroth had done enriching physical activities more frequently than he could count—mostly because of Zack, and a part of him having a want to still retain stamina and strength without adhering to the corporate routine he was familiar with.
In the temporary absence of Sephiroth and Zack in their bedroom, the Materia-less Buster Sword and the Masamune—broken off and created anew as two separated swords—rested soundly in their sheaths, hanging on the wall next to Sephiroth’s working table. A window a tad higher than the table provided him with the option to see the scenic view of Gongaga.
The spiral staircase led them to the first floor, adorned with framed pictures of memories they experienced both by themselves and with their friends. The kitchen wasn’t too expansive, mainly with a sink, a double ring burner with a stove underneath and spaces for cutting and dicing up vegetables and meat. The overhead kitchen cabinets stored Sephiroth and Zack’s cherished dishes and bowls of varied shapes, sizes and color, with the utensils and silverware in a drawer next to the oven.
In another corner nearest to the entrance door, a dark brown, well-worn but still in great condition couch for two and a coffee table situated above a rug. Across from these furniture, a fireplace awaited its turn to be used for the day. As they were about to head out, Zack grabbed his pair of bright blue running shoes from the shoe rack by the door, along with handing the teal-colored slip-ons ones to Sephiroth.
The outdoors welcomed them with the light from up high in the sky that wasn't too harsh. A cool breeze blew past them, gently swaying the leaves on the trees and the strands of hair of both men. Adjacent to their house, some of the fresh vegetables and fruits in the modestly-sized greenhouse of theirs should be ripe enough—just in time for this celebratory period.
Sephiroth noticed Mrs. Fair decorating the exterior of her shared residence with Mr. Fair with holiday-themed decorations. Looking around, other houses seemed to have already begun doing their own versions of sprucing up their places too—with the one exception being their own.
“Zack, do you think we should do that too?” Sephiroth asked, out of unfamiliarity and curiosity of what he saw.
With widened eyes and a bright smile at the sights of the townspeople preparing for the celebration to come, Zack turned to Sephiroth, “ab-so-lute-ly! Haven’t done this kinda thing since I left town to be SOLDIER.”
“What’s the special occasion?” Sephiroth inquired further.
“Gaia’s New Year!” Zack replied, enthusiastic. He signaled Sephiroth with a light tap on the back that he was ready to go for a run. It was Zack’s turn to be the person leading, though the other always caught up every time. This was also true for the other times Sephiroth led.
The two began running, with Zack guiding the way from their house in the village to the top of the Gongagan hill. Upon their arrival some time ago, the pair played an important part in taking care of the village’s problem with creatures in the area. Nowadays, there weren’t so many, rendering the use of their swords to be only for a case of emergency.
Crossing over the border separating the town and the scenic route going toward the hill, Sephiroth caught up with Zack, matching up his speed with the other. Not only in running where either would start and become in-sync later on, but also in their sparring sessions, past battles and slow dances under the warm orange hue lighting their living room.
They passed by the many trees and flowers, and eventually to the waterfall—a spot they usually stopped by before heading back to cool off. They’d take off their shoes and socks, dipping their feet into the stream. It was also a spot Sephiroth had found to be rather ideal for listening to stories Zack had in mind to share with him.
Reaching the top of the hill overlooking the scenery of nature below, a mixture of rocky terrain and vegetation, the pair slowed down, coming to a halt. Zack inhaled the fresh morning air as much as he could, and exhaled it with great relief—his mouth agape. Sephiroth was more reserved in his stance, but still as glad as Zack to be in this area again.
“Good run, buddy,” Zack complimented Sephiroth, giving him a cheeky smile.
“Likewise, buddy,” Sephiroth sent his praise back to Zack, using the word ever so synonymous with the love and care Zack had given to him, and that he too had given them to Zack in immeasurable amounts.
That made Zack blushed, becoming momentarily at a loss for words. This sight pleased Sephiroth, prompting a head tilt and a fond smile on him.
Turning to the direction for their way back, Sephiroth saw their frequent spot just right up ahead. Zack, with his cheeks somewhat of a lesser pink than moments ago, was able to read what Sephiroth had in mind, without the man himself having to say the word.
Instead of running, they went with a light walk, saving that last batch of energy for their run back into the village. Sephiroth would be the first to take a shower, and Zack would join too—despite the glass enclosure barely fitting the two.
Arriving at the waterfall, they took off their shoes and socks—putting them next to each other’s pairs. They chose a spot not too far off from where the waterfall became the stream. A pleased sigh escaped Sephiroth’s mouth the moment his feet touched with the fresh, natural water.
It was by no means deep enough to submerge a whole body. A fact neither Sephiroth nor Zack would mind.
A brief moment of silence between the two, as they took in what Gaia had gifted to them—to all the lives living in this area. The water, the wind, the trees, the animals and the Sun coming together to perform a harmonious piece of music to those willing to sit and hear. Sephiroth could hear it, and so did Zack.
Slicing through the stillness, Sephiroth continued the conversation about Gaia’s New Year with a follow-up question, “what exactly do you do on Gaia’s New Year?”
Zack gave it a thought, and answered, “my folks here we just eat and drink ‘til the clock strikes midnight, then we just yell “happy Gaia’s New Year!” to each other. I know in Midgar and Gold Saucer they overdo it by a lot, so, never been a fan of their ways.”
“But if it’s with Tifa, Barret and Marlene, then I’m a fan of that!” Zack added, cheerful at the mention of his friends. The distance between Gongaga and Midgar might be substantial, but there was always Cid and his trusty Highwind—now operating on an experimental fuel developed by the Energy R&D Team of Reeve’s yet-to-be-named organization formed in the wake of Shin-Ra’s fall from grace.
Sephiroth contemplated, and said, “we haven’t seen them in a while. Maybe we can visit them after the New Year?”
“Honestly, that'd be awesome. Maybe Spikey can tag along too. Last I heard he’s setting up his own business with his mother. Something to do with delivery,” Zack replied. After moving to Gongaga, he and Sephiroth didn’t get to visit their own friends much—aside from that time Aerith and Marlene, with Barret, came to see them. Others wanted to, but were kept busy helping others rebuild their lives post-Shin-Ra.
Sephiroth hummed in agreement, nodding along a bit.
The couple sat there some more, listening to the music of Gaia. About another twenty minutes to thirty minutes later, after letting their feet dry enough, they got up and put on their shoes—their socks tucked inside the pockets of their pants. Something of a habit for them was that after relaxing in the stream, they’d rather wear shoes without socks on the way back.
They stretched, readying themselves for a run back to the house. This time, Sephiroth would lead, having been in the village long enough to recognize the way home. He started his run, and Zack caught up to him midway.
Reaching their house, Mrs. Fair waved to greet them. Despite their mild exhaustion from running, they waved back to her—noticing the household of Fair had finished decorating the exterior.
“I’ll get some from mom later,” Zack stated, referring to where he’d get the decorations and the ornaments, just before entering the house.
The door closed, and Zack let out an audible groan. He went over to the kitchen, pouring himself and Sephiroth glasses of water from a clear glass bottle with a stopper. In contrast to Zack, who took reasonably big gups, Sephiroth sipped the water without a hurry.
Next up, it was the much-awaited shower after running. Zack went up the stairs first, immediately undressing himself—throwing the sweat-covered clothing in the laundry baskets conveniently placed in front of the bathroom, and wrapping himself with a towel from the tower rack by the main window across from the bed. With the last piece of clothing in the basket, Zack was more than ready for a refreshing shower.
Rather than going in right away, he waited for Sephiroth to finish doing the same routine as him. Old habits die hard.
A loving thank you from Sephiroth to Zack, as he went into the bathroom to turn on the shower head and adjust the temperature, placing the towel once around his waist on the towel rail attached to the wall. Sephiroth’s precise hands were more than ideal for this.
Sephiroth gave a sign to notify Zack the shower was ready. Zack entered the bathroom, taking the towel off to join his lover. From head to toe, both helped each other from the very first step of applying shampoo and soap—all the way to the very last step of washing it all off. And of course, they’d share kisses in-between the whole thing, and a laugh or two when shampoo got in their eyes.
Despite the playfulness in their cleansing and refreshment of the bodies, the shower lasted around fifteen minutes. They dried each other, standing side-by-side in front of the mirror and the sink. Zack praised how smooth and silky Sephiroth’s hair was, and Sephiroth in turn complimented how Zack looked great, and occasionally funny.
Zack giggled, and Sephiroth did as well.
Donning a t-shirt once more, Zack went with a plain navy blue—a square putting on a cartoonish smile floated in the center of it all. Sephiroth also chose the same, with an all-black t-shirt with a logo of Enix Corp. in lowercase “e” in deep maroon color—a company Sephiroth had never heard of. Some of the clothing they had were from different regions, either acquired by asking nicely or paying for them with little money they had back then. For the lower parts, Sephiroth chose another pair of sweatpants, whereas Zack went with green checkered-pattern boxer shorts.
The pair went downstairs, with Zack dove straight to his task of preparing all the ingredients needed for breakfast, seemingly different than before. On any given day, after exercising, Sephiroth would have a light meal for this time of day—be it a simple bowl of flat noodles in vegetable broth, topped with meatballs, or plain yogurt with sliced pieces of banana, sprinkled with assorted nuts.
Surprised, Sephiroth asked without saying a word—his head tilted to the side and an adorable confused face revealing itself for Zack.
“I’m making pancakes for breakfast, Seph.” Zack replied, taking a quick glance at Sephiroth all while starting to pour flour into a mixing bowl.
Silence—then, “I’ve never had any,” truthful and painful, all in one.
Zack stopped. “What do you mean? Like, for breakfast or—”
“No, I’ve never had it before. Only pictures of it,” Sephiroth added, akin to a confession of a sinner to a priest.
With worried eyes, Zack put down the flour bag and reached out his hand to one of Sephiroth’s—taking ahold of it. Through Zack’s eyes, Sephiroth could see the all-too-familiar rage Zack had inside him. The last time Sephiroth witnessed this anger being unleashed, Zack almost didn’t make it out alive.
He’d rather let himself be burned, be consumed by it, than to have Sephiroth go through another minute of agony. Afterwards, they came to an agreement to do their best to not let the ugly, monstrous sides of them come out without proper practice of control.
Taking a deep breath in and out, the rage dissipated, and Zack returned. He let go of Sephiroth’s hand, not wanting to hurt him by accident.
“I’m sorry…I…when you say that, it got me thinking about what you’ve been through…what you’ve been robbed of—and it made me so…furious,” Zack apologized, cracking a few eggs and pouring some milk into the bowl. His hands might be mixing the ingredients into one, but his eyes were still locked on Sephiroth.
Zack swallowed, saying, “and when you told me you woke up because of your past, I couldn’t help but to be concerned, y’know? I’m not saying you have to talk about it now. It’s just that I couldn’t help myself to not help you out of it.”
The mixture was done, transformed into a beige-like mix—neither too watery or too thick. Zack didn’t have to measure much, for it was his family’s recipe. Sephiroth would be the first person not from Gongaga that got to try it.
Turning on the stove to a medium heat, Zack placed a pan on top of the burner. When the pan was nearly hot enough, he placed a knob of butter into it. As soon as it touched the pan, the butter became undone—its state changed from solid to liquid. Zack swirled the pan around, coating the heated surface with melted butter.
A couple of minutes passed, Zack placed the first scoop of the mix into the pan—a circular-shaped form birthed out of it, and flipped it when the underside was cooked enough and bubbles formed all over the side facing Zack. He repeated this process until the whole batch was depleted, ending up with around ten pancakes.
Throughout the whole time, Sephiroth remained quiet. He couldn’t find the appropriate word to say. No, he wasn’t concerned with Zack being angry at him—rather, he was finding words that would lessen Zack’s worry.
Bringing the finished pieces to their dining table across from the kitchen area, Zack plated a few pieces onto Sephiroth’s plate, with a knob of butter and a big heap of whipped cream on the side. “Here ya go, Seph. The Fairs’ famous pancakes!” Zack declared, with that life-saving smile on his face. An “ah, I almost forgot. My bad, heh,” was followed by a bottle of syrup next to Sephiroth. Two pairs of knives and forks were brought to the table shortly after, with Zack handing one set to Sephiroth first.
They ate, piece by piece. There were no talks, only the sounds of cutting and chewing—mostly coming from Zack. Sephiroth managed to eat only a few pieces. He put the silverware down.
He had found what he’d like to say.
“Zack, I appreciate what you’ve been doing for me, and always will. But there’s one thing I’d like to ask of you,” Sephiroth paused, and resumed, “do not let my burden swallow you whole. No matter what it is.”
This was the closest Sephiroth ever got to his General persona in quite some time.
“Are you ordering me?”
“Asking. There’s a difference.”
“I know,” Zack replied, stern. He put the knife and fork down, channeling his focus entirely on Sephiroth.
A sigh. “I apologize, Zack. It was not my intention to anger you.”
A pause—then, “I know, Seph,” Zack spoke, in a softer, caring tone. Sephiroth was right. Zack wasn’t mad at Sephiroth, but rather, at his own limitations in breaking Sephiroth free of all his shackles and chains.
He too, still had some on him, and Sephiroth was fully aware of this as much as he was.
“I’m sorry too,” Zack atoned, extending his hand over to Sephiroth—inviting the man to hold it.
Sephiroth took Zack’s hand, resting it underneath his palm and giving it a firm squeeze. A warm, affectionate gaze was sent from Sephiroth to Zack to reassure him of how grateful Sephiroth was to have someone like Zack in his life.
Zack chuckled, and Sephiroth couldn’t help but to join in.
They picked up where they left off, continuing to eat the remaining pancakes. Sephiroth had never consumed this much carbohydrates in his entire life.
There was no guilt. No one to yank his life away from him.