[Sephiroth turns his head just enough that one green eye sharply peers out at Angeal, considering his question for a moment. Does Angeal need to see more? Will it help him to know that Zack inevitably dies in a hailfire of bullets because of Sephiroth's massacre? Will it help him to know that Sephiroth is so consumed by his hatred that he summoned Meteor and nearly wiped out all life on the planet?
...Does Angeal need to know those stakes? Or will this be enough?
One look at Angeal, and anyone can see he's breaking more than he already was. All of this is weight heavy on his shoulders, as it should be, but Sephiroth isn't sure how much he really understands yet.]
Tell me. What is it you see, Angeal? [He pauses, turning slowly back to the shimmering walls of memories. He reaches a gloved hand out, and it passes through the memory before him, distorting it until it turns into something else. A glimpse of a happier time-- Sephiroth and Angeal standing in the kitchen - a cooking lesson - and laughing over a hardened glob of pasta noodles together. 'You're supposed to keep stirring the noodles, Seph,' comes Angeal's voice as he wraps his arms around Sephiroth's waist from behind, chuckling into his shoulder. And Sephiroth... he looks so happy in this moment-- allowed the space to be imperfect and human with the man he loves, allowed the space to be a normal person rather than a weapon, a tool.]
...I see a man who needed you. [A beat.] A man who still does. One you can save if you abandon this thought that you contribute nothing but suffering to the world around you.
[Unable to bear looking upon what he once had any longer, Sephiroth turns away from the memory, looking outward to other things instead.]
no subject
...Does Angeal need to know those stakes? Or will this be enough?
One look at Angeal, and anyone can see he's breaking more than he already was. All of this is weight heavy on his shoulders, as it should be, but Sephiroth isn't sure how much he really understands yet.]
Tell me. What is it you see, Angeal? [He pauses, turning slowly back to the shimmering walls of memories. He reaches a gloved hand out, and it passes through the memory before him, distorting it until it turns into something else. A glimpse of a happier time-- Sephiroth and Angeal standing in the kitchen - a cooking lesson - and laughing over a hardened glob of pasta noodles together. 'You're supposed to keep stirring the noodles, Seph,' comes Angeal's voice as he wraps his arms around Sephiroth's waist from behind, chuckling into his shoulder. And Sephiroth... he looks so happy in this moment-- allowed the space to be imperfect and human with the man he loves, allowed the space to be a normal person rather than a weapon, a tool.]
...I see a man who needed you. [A beat.] A man who still does. One you can save if you abandon this thought that you contribute nothing but suffering to the world around you.
[Unable to bear looking upon what he once had any longer, Sephiroth turns away from the memory, looking outward to other things instead.]
Shinra is the enemy. Not you.