[ Zack does note the way that Sephiroth's wings seem to twitch in close against his back. They give him away more than his expression ever could, a sign that this is not an easy thing for him to do. The sword, which is in turn thrust toward Zack, holds maybe too much inside of it. Hopes, dreams, memories, belonging to too many people.
Yet, Zack can't deny that he's missed that familiar weight at his back. He's become fond enough of Organics, the sword lent to him by Cloud, over these months. It's served him well. But Angeal's sword...
He can't help but think that Angeal would want him to have it. Sephiroth must have realized the same thing. And so after just a moment of hesitation, he reaches out (with a hand that now bears skin hard and scaled) to grab for the hilt.
As soon as he's holding it, Zack lets out a breath, as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders, rather than added. This sword should probably belong to Cloud at this point, but Zack knows that he won't take it. Not when Zack is here to wield it. He rotates his arm to look the blade over, taking in every ding and scratch — all exactly as he remembers it.
And when he looks up, it's to Sephiroth's waiting face. No doubt he'd been struck with unexpected memories as soon as he saw the sword, too. ]
Well. I'm glad it ended up with someone who knew where to take it.
[ He has to acknowledge that much. If anyone here understands the importance of this sword, it's Sephiroth.
Another pause, during which his brow knits, and then he has to ask. ] But... you're sure he's not here, too?
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Yet, Zack can't deny that he's missed that familiar weight at his back. He's become fond enough of Organics, the sword lent to him by Cloud, over these months. It's served him well. But Angeal's sword...
He can't help but think that Angeal would want him to have it. Sephiroth must have realized the same thing. And so after just a moment of hesitation, he reaches out (with a hand that now bears skin hard and scaled) to grab for the hilt.
As soon as he's holding it, Zack lets out a breath, as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders, rather than added. This sword should probably belong to Cloud at this point, but Zack knows that he won't take it. Not when Zack is here to wield it. He rotates his arm to look the blade over, taking in every ding and scratch — all exactly as he remembers it.
And when he looks up, it's to Sephiroth's waiting face. No doubt he'd been struck with unexpected memories as soon as he saw the sword, too. ]
Well. I'm glad it ended up with someone who knew where to take it.
[ He has to acknowledge that much. If anyone here understands the importance of this sword, it's Sephiroth.
Another pause, during which his brow knits, and then he has to ask. ] But... you're sure he's not here, too?