Chapter 5
"I don't like this," Zack said to Vincent as they followed Sephiroth and Jenova at a distance down the mountain slope.
"Neither do I," said Vincent, never taking his eyes off of the pair ahead. The change in Sephiroth's demeanor unsettled him. In place of the conflicted young man he'd met yesterday morning was a devoted and contented son, eager to comply with the wishes of his newfound 'mother.' Where had all his questions gone? His suspicion? Did he not consider even for a moment that Jenova's manner towards him was an act?
"I've never seen him trust anyone this fast," Zack went on, echoing his thoughts. "He was going to let all those things loose, just because she asked him to. It's like she's got him under some kind of spell."
Vincent nodded. "I didn't want to deny him his exploration into his origins, but this... this isn't an exploration. It's blind acceptance."
Zack's brow furrowed in worry, watching the pair ahead of them, who seemed content to ignore them. Sephiroth may as well have forgotten they existed.
"Could we be overreacting?" Zack wondered. "I mean, she's an Ancient, right? Weren't they supposed to be good people? Caretakers of the Planet and all that? Maybe Sephiroth can just sense something about her that we can't, 'cause he's one, too, sort of."
"Even if she was the kindest of people then," said Vincent, "it's been two thousand years. Who knows how that time might have changed her?"
"If she's angry, she's got reasons to be," Zack pointed out. "Shinra's been keeping her locked up, using her... Maybe she just needs some time to process that."
"Perhaps," Vincent conceded. "But... That isn't the feeling I get."
The anger she bore them wouldn't be calmed by time or reason, he felt, and she didn't want those monsters freed so she could care for them. She was only biding her time, because Sephiroth wasn't wholly hers yet, and she couldn't afford to make an enemy of him.
Zack hesitated, but he nodded. "We sure as hell can't tell Sephiroth that, though. At least, not until we can figure out a way to get him away from her for a minute. He wasn't acting so weird until we got close."
"I don't know if distance will undo this... but it's too soon for the more extreme option."
Zack caught his eye. "You don't mean..."
"As I said, it's too soon."
Zack held his gaze a moment longer and then looked away. "Yeah..." he said, but he didn't refute the possibility. If Jenova proved dangerous--to Sephiroth, to the town--they might have to kill her. Though even having said it was too soon, Vincent wondered: what were the powers of the Ancients? What strength might she recover in time? She had survived all this time. Would they be able to kill her, the two of them?
But at least Zack understood the danger, and Vincent was grateful to have an ally. His relationship with Sephiroth was a fledgling one; any effort on his part to separate Sephiroth from Jenova would be met with hostility.
If only he had had Lucrecia at his side. She might have known what to do, what to say. Surely her connection to Sephiroth would have been stronger already. A real mother in contrast to this false one, this facade...
"Who does she look like to you?" he wondered suddenly. "She must have chosen that form for a reason, but I don't think she expected it to look familiar to you."
Zack ran a hand through his hair. "She looks like my girlfriend, actually. Older, but... they could be sisters, easy."
"Has Sephiroth ever met her?"
"No, I've never introduced them. He's never been that interested in my personal life."
Vincent frowned. "Does she have any family with ties to Shinra, perhaps?"
Zack shook his head. "It's just her and her mom. Her dad was in the army, I think. Died in the war."
"Perhaps it really is just a coincidence..." Vincent said, though he still felt there was some connection they couldn't see.
"I don't know," said Zack. "But it weirds me out, I'll tell you that."
"It's an odd power for her to have, isn't it?"
"You think?"
"Why should the Ancients have needed illusions to disguise themselves? Who were they hiding from?"
"Well..." Zack rubbed at his chin. "From what Sephiroth was telling me, there were humans who lived at the same time as them. Maybe they didn't get along so well."
"Hmm."
"Let's not keep up the pattern, all right? I know what my gut's telling me, but she hasn't done anything, so as long as she doesn't give us a reason to be her enemies, we've gotta be nice to her. For Sephiroth's sake."
Vincent said nothing. To be kind to a woman who had usurped the role of Sephiroth's mother, that rightly belonged to the woman he loved... To be kind to a woman who was preying on Sephiroth's desire for family to further her own agenda...
"Or... polite, at least," Zack amended. "I don't know if 'nice' is in your playbook."
"I am... trying. With Sephiroth."
Zack regarded him for a long moment and then remarked, "Must be weird. Having a grown-up kid all of a sudden."
It was so much more than weird, Vincent thought. "I thought," he confided, "if I were to be a father, that I would have time to learn... That she would help me... But he's been through so much, and I wasn't there for him."
"Well..." Zack ventured, looking ahead. "Seems like he's still got a lot ahead of him."
"...I hope I can help him through it."
"Yeah. Me, too."
The route between the village and the reactor was considerably longer with the bridge down, and despite the uncanny way monsters seemed to avoid Jenova's presence, evening was falling by the time they returned. By now, Jenova had altered her appearance again, giving herself clothes more suited for travel, to fit the story they had invented to explain her arrival: a young woman lost in the mountain pass, whom they had rescued from monsters.
"And, were you able to take care of them?" Lockhart pressed. "The monsters?"
"Yes," Sephiroth lied. "You don't have to worry about them any longer."
Vincent saw Zack throw him a look out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't return it. This wasn't the time to contradict Sephiroth.
Lockhart let out a heavy breath of relief and smiled. "Well, I'm glad to hear that," he said.
"But if Shinra did this on purpose..." Zangan began, his brow furrowing. "Is the village truly safe?"
"I can't predict what Shinra might do in the future," Sephiroth admitted, "but they've lost the means to create any more of those monsters. As long as you keep quiet about it, I see no reason for them to take action against your village."
"Keep quiet, huh?" Zangan muttered, shaking his head, but he glanced at Lockhart and said, "Well, I suppose I can do that."
"Why would Shinra do a thing like that, though?" Lockhart wondered. "What's the point of making monsters?"
Something flickered across Sephiroth's face, an unease with the question that belied some remaining conflict within him. "They were after another kind of soldier," he said, "but soldiers they can't control are no good to them."
The two men regarded him uncertainly for a moment before Lockhart offered, "You know, I think it's a good thing, that you won't be working for Shinra anymore, if that's the sort of thing they're up to. I don't know what you mean to do after this, but we'll always be grateful for your help."
"Indeed," said Zangan. "You're a good man for choosing not to be party to that."
Sephiroth faltered, and Zack clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Hear that, Seph? Sounds like your fan club should survive the transition."
Lockhart chuckled. "I don't know about any of that, but I would like to extend an invitation to you and your men for dinner."
Sephiroth glanced at Jenova and then shook his head. "No. Thank you for the offer, but I'm tired, and I'm afraid I'd make poor company."
"Does that go for all of you?" Lockhart wondered.
Zack scratched his head. "It's been a long day," he agreed. "Maybe another time?"
"I wouldn't want to impose," said Vincent when Lockhart's gaze turned to him.
"Ah, well," said Lockhart. "You all be sure and get your rest then. Oh! And Jenova, was it? I'm afraid our inn is full up with these Shinra--ex-Shinra people, but I'm sure we can sort something out for you for the night."
"There's no need," she said smoothly. "We've already spoken about it, and we'll work things out at the inn."
"Oh." Lockhart looked briefly perplexed at the notion that she would choose to room with three strange men over finding accommodations with some village family, but he shrugged it off. "Well, however it suits you."
Cloud joined them as they returned to the inn, and once they were in the privacy of the room, Zack related to him what had actually happened at the reactor. Sephiroth ignored them, his attention returning to focus entirely on Jenova. He was determined to make her as comfortable as possible, the sleeping arrangements just how she wanted them, asking what she might like from the kitchen and where she'd be most at ease eating.
Vincent watched them from the doorway, wondering. How much of this was Jenova exerting some unnatural influence on him, and how much of it was Sephiroth himself? Sephiroth had greeted Vincent with suspicion, but it wasn't a father he'd longed for, not when he'd thought he'd been cursed with Hojo. Jenova was the mother he'd been told of, a mother returned to him from the dead. A mother who might make sense of the inhumanity he'd discovered in himself, in a way no one else could.
He'd seemed more himself speaking to the village men. So was it a spell for him to be so eager for Jenova's every word? Or had he simply let his guard down in the face of the one thing he wanted most? If this affection was genuine, Vincent hated to discourage it, but he hated, too, the thought that it would be betrayed.
Cloud retired to his mother's house for the evening, and the rest of them ate dinner in the room. Vincent found himself seated across from Jenova, his view of her obscured by the table lamp. But, it wasn't her true face, anyway.
"So," said Zack, "things must be pretty different from two thousand years ago, huh?"
"In some ways, yes," said Jenova. "We didn't have the technological monstrosities you've built for yourselves--your electric lights, your reactors, your automobiles--that city of Midgar, teaming with so many people... But this village isn't so unfamiliar. The people wear different clothes and speak different words, but it's the same at its core."
"You've been to Midgar?" Zack wondered in surprise.
"No," she said, "but Sephiroth has."
"Oh. Right, the whole... memory thing. I guess that helps a lot to catch you up on things."
"Yes. To me, it is a wealth of knowledge."
Vincent kept his tone carefully neutral. Polite, if not kind. "May I ask about the face you chose?" he said. "If it's all right with Sephiroth?"
"I can answer that myself," said Sephiroth. "She's helped me to recall-- it was a woman I saw as a child. A mother. She had come to the lab with her baby."
"Did she work there?" Vincent wondered. It seemed odd to him for Shinra to allow an employee to bring a child to the lab, but the alternative...
Sephiroth shook his head. "I don't know. I only remember how protective she was. As though she'd murder anyone who tried to take that child from her."
Jenova met Vincent's gaze through the glare of the lamp. A tacit threat. Aloud, she said, "This was the first mother he knew, even if she wasn't his own. It felt appropriate, to me."
"But your real body--" Zack began, and faltered. "I mean, are you healing under there? All that stuff you were hooked up to..."
"I am healing," Jenova confirmed. "It may take some time, but one day I hope I'll be able to be something closer to my true self."
Healing, and growing stronger, Vincent thought.
"Your magic is impressive already," he said. "I don't recall Gast or Lucrecia theorizing the Ancients had anything like it."
"I'm sure much about the Cetra has been forgotten," said Jenova. "The magic you know now is nothing but simple elemental tricks. Millennia ago, it was part of a way of life. We lived and breathed it."
"I look forward to learning that again," Sephiroth said.
Jenova smiled at him, and the smile never touched her eyes, but Sephiroth didn't seem to notice.
Vincent still felt no need for sleep, a fact which Sephiroth had anticipated. The other three turned in, with no shortage of beds, and Vincent took up his vigil in the hall outside. Through the open doorway, he could just see the end of Jenova's bed.
He didn't know what to do. How could he unmask Jenova, before it was too late? If she had access to Sephiroth's memories, then she already knew him more intimately than anyone ever had. She knew what he wanted to hear and to know, she knew his confusion these past few days, she even knew what Vincent had said to him, so she might pick it apart and feed Sephiroth's distrust. How long before she isolated him again? Could she sway him back to the rage he'd felt?
For all that Sephiroth had survived, he was vulnerable now. His world was in chaos, and he'd latched on to someone who would destroy him.
Perhaps an hour passed, and Jenova stirred. She left her bed and walked to the door, looking directly at him. She stepped out, and shut it behind her.
"Do you intend to stare at me all night?" she asked.
"I intend to keep watch over my son," said Vincent.
"If he is your son. You're only guessing."
"You aren't his mother. You didn't give birth to him."
"But my genes are in him just the same. Our connection proves that. Do you have any such proof?"
Vincent frowned. "What do you want from me?" he asked.
"I want you to leave. Give up your silly claim. He doesn't need you."
If she saw him as a threat, then maybe he'd made more progress with Sephiroth than he'd thought. Maybe his words could have an impact after all. "I won't leave him to you," he said.
"Why do you think I wish him ill? He is my only kin."
"You want to use him."
"I want to ask for his help," Jenova corrected. "Is that so wrong?"
"And what is it you want his help with? Revenge?"
Jenova regarded him levelly. "Did you yourself not consider taking revenge together with him, on Hojo?"
Vincent shook his head. "That's different. He wants it for himself."
"He'll want this, too," she said.
"Even against me?" Vincent wondered.
"A fair question," Jenova said. "Let's find out."
Her hand slammed into his throat, faster than he could react. His back hit the window behind him, and his head struck the pane. She was far, far stronger than any human woman could have been. He gripped her arm with both hands, but could not wrench it free. As he struggled for air, even as his strength began to wane, something else inside him was screaming.
He had to end this, not before death, but before that.
He reached for his gun and managed to free it from its holster. Jenova did not relent as he lifted it to her shoulder, and pulled the trigger.
Everything happened at once. She released her grip on him and staggered back. The bedroom door slammed open, Sephiroth in the doorway. Vincent fell to the floor beneath the window, gulping ragged breaths, his blood still screaming.
"What have you done!?" Sephiroth cried, rushing to Jenova's side. Blood oozed from her shoulder, and she reached for him weakly with her other arm.
A trap. How easily she'd done it.
Zack was in the doorway now, and Jenova was speaking in a trembling voice, spinning a lie about how Vincent had attacked her. He could scarcely hear her over the blood pounding in his ears. He could breathe again, but his body was seizing, still gripped with the panic of death. His skin was too tight, and the heat in his veins made him break out in a sweat.
Sephiroth was in front of him. He tore the gun from his grasp, lifted him to his feet, and threw him against the wall beside the window. "How dare you attack her!" he shouted. "What is this? Jealousy?"
Zack was saying something, words that Sephiroth ignored and Vincent couldn't make out.
"Get away," Vincent managed. His tongue felt wrong in his mouth. "I must... get away."
Something else flashed through the fury on Sephiroth's face. "What's wrong with you?" he said.
Vincent shook his head. "Please," he said. "I'm..."
His body convulsed, trying to pull in on itself even as Sephiroth held him. His bones scraped against each other and his muscles knotted up inside of him. Something bored into his skull. His vision swam with black, and he lost track of his surroundings, unable to process anything outside of himself. Something had been waiting for this chance, and it had already clawed its way too far out, he couldn't force it back down. He couldn't stop it.
The thing inside him tore loose, surging through every inch of his body, and he threw his head back and howled. He was stronger now. The enemy that had tried to snuff him out would regret it. He whipped his head around, looking for her.
Somehow he was on the ground, outside, among the pines. Building behind him. No enemy in sight except for--
The man with the silver hair standing some paces ahead. This man had attacked him, but now his eyes were wide, shock leaving him vulnerable. The beast leapt forward, claws slashing for the man's bare chest.
He reacted faster than expected, and the beast's claws found nothing. A knee slammed into the side of his head. He shook it off and turned, intending to gore the man with his horns, but the man took hold of them and threw him back.
He howled again and summoned fire. The flames caught on the sparse grass and the lower branches of the pines, but his adversary charged in too close to be burned and tackled him to the ground. His claws and teeth gnashed for his enemy, forcing him off.
The beast found his feet again, and they faced off against each other. The beast bared his fangs in a grin.
He was strong. A worthy opponent.
He eagerly anticipated the moment when, after a hard fight, his jaws would sink into the man's flesh, tear him apart, and claim victory. But something made him hesitate.
Worthy...
The man's scent filled his nostrils. Something familiar... Something like the enemy that had tried to kill him, yes, but also something like his other self.
The man hesitated, too. "Are you still in there?" he said.
No, not an enemy, he remembered. This was his...!
The next thing he knew, Vincent found himself gasping for air again. There was ground beneath him, damp soil under his fingers. His whole body felt like fire.
"Vincent," said a sharp voice, Sephiroth's voice. A strange tone, torn between anger and worry.
Vincent managed to lift his head. "What..." Panic swept over him; the last minutes were a haze but his eyes landed on a set of scratches running down Sephiroth's bare arm. "I hurt you."
Sephiroth glanced at the wound and shook his head. "It's nothing," he said. "I'm fine."
"No, I..." Vincent groaned, and he ducked his head, curling in on himself until the fire inside him at last began to subside. In its wake, it left a bone-deep weariness. With effort, he pushed himself to his knees and then sat back. His boots were ruined, the soles loose and dragging. His clothes hadn't fared much better, torn or strained at the seams.
He looked up to take in his surroundings. A few flames licked at the grass and the trees around them, but a light rain had begun falling, and they weren't spreading. The back of the inn lay not far away, and a window was open on the second floor--had they fallen through it? Zack stood there now, silhouetted against the light.
"You guys okay down there?" he called.
"Yes," Sephiroth answered. "See to my mother."
Vincent doubted that Jenova needed any looking after, but Zack disappeared from the window without argument. Sephiroth looked back at Vincent.
"What was that just now?" he demanded. "You attacked my mother, and then..."
Vincent shook his head. "That isn't how it happened," he said. "Though, I doubt you'll believe me, over her."
Sephiroth folded his arms. "Tell me anyway. You pride yourself on being honest with me, don't you?"
Honesty... The past minutes had put their already fragile beginning in jeopardy, but even if Sephiroth wouldn't accept the truth, to omit it now could be even more damaging.
"Jenova... wants to drive me away from you," said Vincent. "She knows I don't trust her, and perhaps it's revenge, too, for my part in confining her. We spoke briefly in the hallway, and then she attacked me. I couldn't breathe, and I only shot her in hopes of freeing myself. As for the rest...... You saw what happened. I can't explain it more than that. I've never... been through it before."
Sephiroth regarded him coldly, but it was neither disbelief nor anger on his face. "You were complicit in her captivity," he said. "She's been hiding it well, but her pain and anger over it runs deep. You shouldn't antagonize her."
Vincent blinked. "But... you believe me?"
Sephiroth glanced up at the inn's windows and then back at Vincent. "That transformation... Something drove you to lose control of yourself. We fought battles enough going up Mt. Nibel, but you never once felt your life was in danger, did you?"
"...no," Vincent confirmed. "I didn't."
"Whichever one of you struck first," Sephiroth went on, "I can believe that she overpowered you, and that she may have intended to kill you."
"And, if she had succeeded?" Vincent asked quietly.
Sephiroth regarded him silently for a long moment. Then he stepped forward and offered his hand. Vincent glanced down at his own. Human now, but not long ago it had been something else. He had been something else. A monster.
He reached out, anticipating the jolt of contact--the strong grip of his son's hand, one that pulled him to his feet with ease, but Sephiroth didn't hold on a moment longer than necessary, and it was gone again.
His eyes fell again on the scratches he had left. "Your arm--" he began.
"I said it's fine," Sephiroth interrupted. "They're shallow, a simple Cure spell will take care of them."
Vincent didn't push it, though it pained him. It should never have happened. Shallow or no, he had wounded his son. Attacked his son. Likely tried to kill him, though he couldn't recall enough of the beast's intent. That Sephiroth was willing to speak with him at all was more than he deserved.
And how much longer would this chance last, to talk to his son alone?
"Sephiroth," he said, "you can't trust Jenova. She's lied to you."
Sephiroth shook his head. "Maybe she did, but I understand why. She has no one in the world but me. She doesn't want me to reject her because of this."
"...I understand you want her to be everything you need," Vincent said softly, "but please. Be careful with her, as you are with me. You don't know her yet."
"But I can feel her," said Sephiroth.
"And what do you feel? Does she choose what she shares with you? Can you see her memories?"
Sephiroth didn't answer.
"I'm... I won't ask you to reject her. There may well be a great many things she can teach you. And... I may be wrong about her. I hope I am. But I don't want you to be hurt."
Sephiroth scoffed. "I am still perfectly capable of thinking for myself. I don't need you trying to protect me."
"How can I not try, as your father?"
"We don't know that you are."
"Then let me prove it. You wanted to return to the reactor for Jenova. We've done that. Let us go on to Cosmo Canyon."
Sephiroth shook his head. "I am not ready to leave Nibelheim."
"We can return again, afterwards."
"No. But you can go by yourself. Take a sample of my blood and find out the truth before you play any more at being my father."
Vincent opened his mouth, but no words came to him to dispute it. The last thing Sephiroth wanted was anything else in his life built on a lie. He wasn't willing to go any further with this, with whatever relationship they might have, without knowing for certain.
"I understand," he said softly. "I'll leave in the morning."
Sephiroth, too, seemed on the verge of saying something, but instead he walked past Vincent, headed towards the front of the inn. "Come on," he said, motioning for Vincent to follow. "I'll lend you a pair of pants, and you can figure something else out in the morning."
"Thank you," said Vincent. "Not only for that, but... for not condemning me either, yet."
Sephiroth made no reply.
Their commotion had woken the innkeeper, but he was bleary-eyed enough that they managed to mollify him with some vague story about sleepwalking. Only a dim light was on in the room behind him, so it would have been easy for him to miss Sephiroth's wound and the state of Vincent's clothing.
They sent him back to bed, and Sephiroth pressed on swiftly upstairs, where his attention returned to Jenova. Between Zack's borrowed materia and her magic, she assured him that her wound was largely healed already, and he didn't need to worry. Her disguise was again flawless, and Vincent wondered how much he had actually hurt her, beneath it.
Zack pressed them with questions, but Sephiroth was sparse with his explanation, and under Jenova's glare, Vincent declined to elaborate. He took the pair of pants and left the room, distancing himself from her. Sephiroth shut the door behind him.
Not condemned, but not forgiven either.
Now, of course, after that transformation, his body craved sleep. The floor would have to do.
In the morning, he would leave. He would travel without rest, and return with proof, and hope to the gods that he wouldn't lose his son to an illusion in the time that he was gone.