[His eyes are gold now, he thinks, looking upon Zack as a healthy dose of confusion runs across his face. Wide and surprised, likely not expecting either the man or the sword to be waiting for him on his doorstep. Always wearing his heart on his sleeve, while Sephiroth does his best to imitate a statue carved from marble as he stands and feels the muscles in his shoulders tighten, the wings at his back folding more tightly together.]
It was delivered to me. It seems there are individuals receiving items from home, now, with the exception that they don’t always find their owners.
[Mistakenly, of course, sent in his direction rather than Zack’s. (Or even Cloud, though Sephiroth has no reason to think to bring it to him.) Another long bout of a pause.]
They were close enough to find someone from the correct Planet, at least.
[He leans the hilt of the blade forward, this giant thing which represents perhaps too much to either of them.]
[ 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?
[That weight should be lifted, shouldn't it, now that Zack's taken the blade from him? But Sephiroth feels as though something sticks to his chest, like iron pressing down in his lungs, and he knows immediately it had been foolish to hope for as much; the memories imbued in that sword were not as easily given away, not something he could simply hand over like steel wrought into the shape of a weapon.
If only.
He nods, though, in acknowledgement of knowing where to take it. He cannot imagine the Buster Sword having been found by a stranger, and treated like nothing more than an ordinary oversized blade. At least there was a small kindness in Sephiroth having been delivered it first.
Yet the question about Angeal has more than just his wings tightening, but something pinching across his face. Zack might as well be taking the brunt of those old memories and dragging them to the surface, gasping for air.]
After I received that blade... I searched. [Around the city, trawling through the network. Nothing.] He's nowhere to be found. His presence would be inexplicable here, but- [A beat.] -so would yours, wouldn't it? So that hardly matters.
[ It's truly no surprise to hear that Sephiroth had gone on a search for Angeal after having his sword more or less dropped in his lap. People can be exhumed from the grave and brought here, meaning there's no reason he couldn't have been here, and Zack knows better than most that Sephiroth had a bond with Angeal, one that couldn't so easily be replicated.
One, maybe two of a kind.
At the suggestion that Zack might be able to find Angeal where Sephiroth had failed, he only shakes his head. He knows how thorough Sephiroth would have been in this situation. There's no way he could have missed something, not in a case like this, and searching in vain would only rip the wound open wider. ]
If he's not listed on the network, he must not be here. There's...
[ Zack pauses, glancing down at the sword which hangs heavy in his grip for a moment. He hadn't meant to bring up Aerith or Tifa, aware of the can of worms that would open with Sephiroth, but there's also not much chance of avoiding it. ]
There's been a few other arrivals in the last couple days, and they're listed already, so...
[ What now? They're just standing awkwardly in the doorway, the massive blade between them, and Zack doesn't feel like he can just leave things as they are, not after this. A real talk between them has been a long time coming, and Cloud should be fast asleep. If Zack needs to apologize later for inviting Sephiroth into their home, he'll do so, but given that Cloud's already got a bond with the guy, maybe it won't be necessary.
So, he takes a few steps back, then gestures Sephiroth forward with his free hand. ]
Come in.
[ And there it is, an olive branch he hadn't been willing to extend until now. ]
[He reads it for what it is, a sort of tenuous offering to alleviate the tension between them. That one gesture to invite him inside, despite everything, weighs almost just as heavily as the sword he’s handed over.
For how much he’s ruminated over it, one would think Sephiroth would show more hesitation before accepting. But, perhaps, surprising even himself, the reply comes quickly.]
…Thank you.
[And he slides over the threshold with a grace that easily hides the complicated, tangled mess that is their relationship between them. Standing here, now, in the entryway hall, pieces of those reassurances seem to slip away, and he latches onto what his friend has said just moments prior.]
[ The two words of thanks, spoken in that familiar voice, is something Zack's not quite expecting. It's rare for Sephiroth to ever voice that kind of gratitude to anyone, and if nothing else, it's an acknowledgment of how difficult it was for Zack to even come to this point. To invite him inside.
It's not as if he's forgotten. It's not as if the subject of Aerith, which comes up almost instantly, isn't still a sore spot. But he understands a little more about the future than he did when he first arrived here, and Sephiroth has proved himself to be nothing less than a reliable companion during their time in Aefenglom.
Zack certainly hasn't forgotten how Sephiroth came after him and dragged him back from the brink during that full moon. He's aware he still owes Sephiroth for that, a debt yet unpaid.
He shuts the door behind Sephiroth and then leads them out of the cramped hallway into the small living room, a space where they can sit down. He nods at Sephiroth's question, trying to brush off something that's in fact extremely important, mainly because he doesn't know how to tackle it.
He has to ask, though, turning back to face Sephiroth from the middle of the room. He continues to hold onto the Buster Sword almost awkwardly, as if at a loss for where to place it now that he's got it back. ]
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no subject
It was delivered to me. It seems there are individuals receiving items from home, now, with the exception that they don’t always find their owners.
[Mistakenly, of course, sent in his direction rather than Zack’s. (Or even Cloud, though Sephiroth has no reason to think to bring it to him.) Another long bout of a pause.]
They were close enough to find someone from the correct Planet, at least.
[He leans the hilt of the blade forward, this giant thing which represents perhaps too much to either of them.]
Take it.
no subject
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?
no subject
If only.
He nods, though, in acknowledgement of knowing where to take it. He cannot imagine the Buster Sword having been found by a stranger, and treated like nothing more than an ordinary oversized blade. At least there was a small kindness in Sephiroth having been delivered it first.
Yet the question about Angeal has more than just his wings tightening, but something pinching across his face. Zack might as well be taking the brunt of those old memories and dragging them to the surface, gasping for air.]
After I received that blade... I searched. [Around the city, trawling through the network. Nothing.] He's nowhere to be found. His presence would be inexplicable here, but- [A beat.] -so would yours, wouldn't it? So that hardly matters.
Maybe you'll have better luck looking than I did.
no subject
One, maybe two of a kind.
At the suggestion that Zack might be able to find Angeal where Sephiroth had failed, he only shakes his head. He knows how thorough Sephiroth would have been in this situation. There's no way he could have missed something, not in a case like this, and searching in vain would only rip the wound open wider. ]
If he's not listed on the network, he must not be here. There's...
[ Zack pauses, glancing down at the sword which hangs heavy in his grip for a moment. He hadn't meant to bring up Aerith or Tifa, aware of the can of worms that would open with Sephiroth, but there's also not much chance of avoiding it. ]
There's been a few other arrivals in the last couple days, and they're listed already, so...
[ What now? They're just standing awkwardly in the doorway, the massive blade between them, and Zack doesn't feel like he can just leave things as they are, not after this. A real talk between them has been a long time coming, and Cloud should be fast asleep. If Zack needs to apologize later for inviting Sephiroth into their home, he'll do so, but given that Cloud's already got a bond with the guy, maybe it won't be necessary.
So, he takes a few steps back, then gestures Sephiroth forward with his free hand. ]
Come in.
[ And there it is, an olive branch he hadn't been willing to extend until now. ]
no subject
For how much he’s ruminated over it, one would think Sephiroth would show more hesitation before accepting. But, perhaps, surprising even himself, the reply comes quickly.]
…Thank you.
[And he slides over the threshold with a grace that easily hides the complicated, tangled mess that is their relationship between them. Standing here, now, in the entryway hall, pieces of those reassurances seem to slip away, and he latches onto what his friend has said just moments prior.]
Aerith's returned. Is that your meaning?
[In regards to the new arrivals.]
no subject
It's not as if he's forgotten. It's not as if the subject of Aerith, which comes up almost instantly, isn't still a sore spot. But he understands a little more about the future than he did when he first arrived here, and Sephiroth has proved himself to be nothing less than a reliable companion during their time in Aefenglom.
Zack certainly hasn't forgotten how Sephiroth came after him and dragged him back from the brink during that full moon. He's aware he still owes Sephiroth for that, a debt yet unpaid.
He shuts the door behind Sephiroth and then leads them out of the cramped hallway into the small living room, a space where they can sit down. He nods at Sephiroth's question, trying to brush off something that's in fact extremely important, mainly because he doesn't know how to tackle it.
He has to ask, though, turning back to face Sephiroth from the middle of the room. He continues to hold onto the Buster Sword almost awkwardly, as if at a loss for where to place it now that he's got it back. ]
Have you spoken to her?