Metamorphosis (Part 2)
PART 1 HERE
___
Wutai
Yuffie was exactly as Cloud, Tifa and Vincent had described her, a spunky petite girl with sparkling eyes and an effervescent personality, looking much younger than her 20 years despite the belt slung around her hips, loaded with wicked-looking shurikens and throwing daggers. She took an instant liking to Ryeowook and badgered him to cook for her, and he smilingly obliged while Vincent rolled his eyes, which earned him a smack from Yuffie, and Yesung watched on with amusement as he drank chilled rice wine.
With Yuffie’s voluble chatter and the comforts of her house in Wutai, he could almost forget that they were on the run and in a race against time, and wished for a moment that Ryeowook and he could stay in this beautiful quiet town tucked away in the northern tip of the Western Continent. He knew they couldn’t, and he knew they had to keep moving, but he couldn’t resist giving in to Ryeowook’s pleas and agreeing to stay for a few days to rest and put their feet up, ignoring the concern that crossed Vincent’s features as he did so. Besides, he rationalized, a few days’ rest was just what they all needed, especially Ryeowook, and the huge smile on Ryeowook’s face convinced him that it was worth it.
“Perfect!” Yuffie said when they told her. “I’ll show you around the town. Let’s go north tomorrow! You guys should see the Da-chao statues.”
“The what?” Ryeowook said.
“Da-chao statues. They’re massive statues of the gods, carved into the mountain face. It’s amazing!” Yuffie exclaimed, flinging her arms out wide to emphasise her point.
Yesung laughed and nodded, and so did Ryeowook, as he reached for Yesung’s hand under the table and gave it a squeeze. Yesung felt himself truly relaxing for the first time in weeks as he laced his fingers with Ryeowook’s, wishing that they didn’t have to leave.
He should have known it was all too good to be true.
It was by sheer fortune that they were still awake and armed hours later, because Yuffie, too impatient to wait, had insisted on dragging them up the northern mountain after their dinner to look at the statues. Vincent was being his usual silent self - he’d seen the statues before, after all - and was standing on an outcropping of the cliff staring down at the town while Yesung and Ryeowook admired the magnificent carvings with Yuffie, when he suddenly said, “Go.”
Yesung had been talking, but he stopped and turned to look at Vincent, who already had his shotgun out and ready. Yuffie, who’d fought alongside Vincent for years, recognized the look in his eyes faster than either Yesung or Ryeowook did, and sprang forward to stand next to him, shurikens gleaming between her fingers.
“Go, guys,” she said urgently. “Head into the cave above you - the caves here are all interlinked, follow them and you’ll come out behind the mountain, out of Wutai. We’ll hold them off for you. Now go!”
“What?” Ryeowook said, not understanding.
Vincent bounded into the air and fired at something in the darkness, and as the night lit up temporarily with the white-hot heat of his magically-reinforced bullet, Yesung caught a glimpse of a pale face framed in striking silver. Just a glimpse, but it was enough.
“Zwelrich,” he said. “Run, Ryeowook, go!”
Ryeowook turned, his submachine gun spinning in his hands, and Yesung turned to follow, but two dark shadows dropped out of the darkness before them and Yesung’s heart sank as he saw the same silver hair flowing down past those men’s shoulders.
“Vincent!” Ryeowook yelled from beside him. “Vincent, they’re all here, all three of them!”
One of the brothers pounced just as Ryeowook lifted his weapon and sprayed bullets at them, pouring fire magic into them as he did so, so they flared with flames and heat in the night. But he was too slow, much too slow - the brother he was shooting at, Yesung thought it was Radiev - staggered backwards, but the other brother, Nodal, was almost upon Ryeowook.
He charged forward, his fists sparking with magic, and swung at Nodal - it caught him on the face, and at the contact Yesung released the lightning magic he was containing, sending it blasting into Nodal so that he flew, back slamming into the mountain wall.
“Run!” he heard Vincent shout from somewhere behind him, and then Yuffie yelled, and there was a sharp clank as one of her shurikens hit whatever she had just thrown it at, and Yesung grasped Ryeowook’s hand as they turned helplessly, watching Radiev and Nodal struggle to their feet, both brothers effectively blocking their route to the cave. But suddenly there was a loud growl, and Yesung stiffened, because he’d heard it before, many times in Midgar, but no - that wasn’t possible, he couldn’t be here -
The growl escalated into a loud, ululating howl, and Yesung’s heart leapt, because yes, there was no mistake about it, that howl could only belong to -
“Red!” Ryeowook cried out, eyes widening in disbelief and hope. “Red!”
At his shout, a large wolf, with stunning red fur, dropped in front of them, its tail flicking back and forth, and Yesung felt as though he could weep, seeing their friend and ally here, so many miles from Midgar, and how did he even get here?
“Go, I’ll hold them,” the wolf rumbled deep in its throat. “Go, now!”
Yesung glanced at Ryeowook, and then threw a last look over his shoulder at Vincent and Yuffie, still facing off against Zwelrich, and ran just as Red snarled and leapt upon the advancing Radiev.
___
Ship to the Northern Continent
It took them three weeks to cross the ocean on yet another ship, to the Northern Continent, where their final goal lay.
Yesung was on tenterhooks throughout the entire voyage, because if Ryeowook transformed then he could very well destroy the entire ship, and Yesung would never ever find him in time. But nothing untoward happened, to his relief, and he’d managed to communicate with Cloud.
Vincent had been most badly injured, but recovering fast thanks to his accelerated healing abilities. Red had managed to kill Nodal, but had suffered several severe injuries for his trouble, though he had stabilized after a few days, and Yuffie was more or less fine. The good news was that both Radiev and Zwelrich had sustained heavy injuries, Radiev badly enough that Vincent was convinced he would not survive, and would be forced into hiding for a while more.
“How did Red get to Wutai?” Yesung asked Cloud, as Ryeowook curled up against his side on the bed, his body rolling slightly with the movements of the ship. Yesung slid an arm under him and held him steady. “I thought he was in Midgar with Cid, working with him.”
“He’d actually returned to his hometown a couple of months ago,” Cloud said, and Yesung had to stop to recall where Red was born. He was almost 60 years old in human years, though as a member of the now extinct Gi wolf tribe, he was gifted with human speech, extraordinary intellect and strength, and longevity. He had been one of those who had followed Cloud on his journey years ago, and when Ryeowook and he had joined Avalanche, Red had fast become one of their closest friends.
“Cosmo Canyon?” Ryeowook murmured sleepily next to him, burying his head in his chest; Cloud caught the soft words.
“Yes,” he said into the phone, and Yesung wasn’t sure if Cloud knew who he was replying to, but it didn’t matter to him. “He actually caught your scent, when you and Vincent and Ryeowook passed Cosmo Canyon on your way to Wutai, and followed you there. It seems he arrived in the nick of time.”
Yesung was stunned. “We - we hardly went anywhere near Cosmo Canyon,” he stuttered, and Cloud laughed.
“Red picked it up when he left town to hunt, he says. Vincent’s scent was all over the place. Was he flying about again?”
“Well, yes,” Yesung admitted, recalling the nights when they’d slept in the open and Vincent had done his disappearing acts, his red cloak flashing across the night sky as he left on his nightly sojourns doing no one knew what.
“Well, thank your lucky stars he did, because if he hadn’t Red might not have known you were near, and wouldn’t have been able to help in Wutai. Now, I need to know, how is Ryeowook?”
Yesung looked down at Ryeowook, cuddled close to him. “Fine so far. No signs of transforming.”
“Good. Now, Yesung, I actually have a plan which might cut short your journey and allow Ryeowook to be healed faster.”
Ryeowook’s eyes snapped open at the words and Yesung scrambled to sit up, his heart hammering away in his chest. “What?”
“I just remembered, years ago, on my travels, I went to the Forgotten City,” Cloud’s voice dropped an octave, and Yesung suddenly realized where that was - it was the place where Sephiroth had slain Aerith, Cloud’s good friend and rumoured lover, though Cloud had never confirmed or denied it. “Well, Aerith’s body is there. I placed it in the lake there.”
“Yes,” Yesung said. “I know that.”
“That lake is also a source of the Lifestream, because of Aerith and her Holy magic.”
Yesung glanced over at Ryeowook, whose eyes were wide as he absorbed the information. “Really?” he said carefully into the phone.
“Yes. If I were you, I’d take Ryeowook there. It will shave three weeks of time off for both of you if you don’t have to travel up north to the Crater. That means Ryeowook is cleansed three weeks earlier, and without the stench of the Jenova infection in him, Zwelrich will no longer be able to trace him. You’ll be safe. If you head to the Crater, Zwelrich will find you there; he’ll have recovered by then.”
Yesung winced at the use of the word ‘stench’, though he knew what Cloud meant, that Sephiroth clones could find each other because those infected with Jenova cells had a certain smell that could only be sensed by other clones. He pulled Ryeowook close to him and buried his nose in his hair. Ryeowook smelled as sweet and fresh as always, and he mentally frowned at Cloud.
“Yesung? You got that?”
Yesung cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’ll do that. This is great news, Cloud.”
“It is. I hope everything goes smoothly, Yesung. Contact me when you reach Icicle Inn.”
“Okay.” Yesung broke the connection and looked down at Ryeowook, whose face was tilted up to him and beaming. “Heard that, Ryeowook? Three weeks earlier than expected!”
Ryeowook laughed. “I know,” he said, and leaned up to kiss Yesung.
___
Icicle Inn
”Yesung?”
“Yeah?”
“I was wondering… what’s it like to be in love?”
“What kind of a question is that?”
Yesung was startled; he’d just been about to fall asleep. Their final mission for Avalanche was the next day, and he had forced Ryeowook to go to bed hours before, while he stayed up to go over the checklist and routes again and again. This was not going to be an easy mission; Cid had received intelligence that the Sephiroth clones very likely knew the hiding place of the Jenova cells, and Cloud had said that he expected a fight. He’d thought Ryeowook was already asleep, but apparently not.
He turned from the table he was at to face Ryeowook’s cot, and Ryeowook was wide awake and staring at him.
“Why are you thinking like this all of a sudden?”
“I’m… not really sure,” Ryeowook said slowly. “I just thought - I was thinking, about tomorrow, and about what Cloud said, and they’re dangerous, aren’t they, Yesung? Those clones? Even Cloud himself had a time beating them off the last time.”
“Well, yes,” Yesung admitted. “But what does that have to do with love?”
Ryeowook sat up then and swung his legs over the bed, before shuffling over to the bench Yesung was sitting on. He dropped down next to him, fidgeting for a moment, before he leaned in and put his head on Yesung’s shoulder; Yesung stiffened at his touch.
“I don’t want to lose you,” Ryeowook murmured, so softly that Yesung almost didn’t catch it, but he did. “I thought about it, and all the times we went on missions, and I came so close so many times, and I don’t want to ever lose you.”
Yesung tried to laugh it off. “You won’t, have more faith in me,” he said, and put an arm around Ryeowook’s shoulders, but he couldn’t resist turning his head just slightly, just so he could lean his cheek against the top of Ryeowook’s head, familiar and warm and sweet-smelling, Ryeowook’s hair tickling his nose.
The little town of Icicle Inn, covered in perpetual snow and ice on the cold Northern Continent, was the last stop they’d have on their way to the Forgotten City.
It was a beautiful place, surrounded by a glade of evergreen fir trees, and the houses in them were all built of the fir logs, making for a very picturesque town. It was even prettier than Wutai, despite the cold, and Yesung and Ryeowook huddled up in thick jackets and bundled each other in scarves.
They took the opportunity to rest there for a longer period than usual, partly because it was such a lovely town, partly because they knew there wasn’t much risk as the brothers were injured.
“Yesung,” Ryeowook whispered to him one night as they curled up together on their bed in the inn, a blazing fire crackling away merrily in the fireplace and warming the room up nicely. “Would you ever hate me?”
“What?” Yesung said in disbelief, looking down at Ryeowook, whose face was pressed into the crook of his neck. “Why would you ever think that?”
Ryeowook shifted slightly in his grip. “I just - I don’t know, Yesung. I’m scared. I’m afraid that I’ll hurt you if - if I - I transform. And I would kill myself if I ever hurt you, or worse - I just can’t - I remember the last time, and I can’t control it - “
“Shhh,” Yesung said, stroking his hair. “This will never happen. I won’t allow it.”
“As if you can stop the transformation,” Ryeowook said, his voice muffled against Yesung’s shoulder.
“That’s what I’m trying to do, aren’t I? Bringing you to the Forgotten City?”
There was a long silence - so long that Yesung thought Ryeowook had fallen asleep - but then Ryeowook spoke. “Thank you.”
Yesung caressed the soft skin on the back of his neck gently, feeling Ryeowook shiver slightly under his touch. “Don’t say silly things like that. I love you, and I’m going to get those damned cells out of you if it’s the last thing I do, so you’ll never have to go through that again. And when this is over, we’ll come back here, and we’ll stay here for the rest of our lives, away from all the wars, all that nonsense. Wouldn’t you like that?”
Ryeowook dropped a soft kiss on his neck. “I love you, Yesung,” he whispered, and Yesung ran gentle fingers up his spine and across the bump of his shoulder blade, remembering the terrifying wing that had sprouted from the scar there, as he pulled Ryeowook up to kiss him.
He looked up at the skylight in the ceiling of their attic room and watched the snowflakes fall on the glass, wishing that they could stay here forever and never have to run, even as he kissed Ryeowook harder, held him closer, fingertips skating over the bump of the scar on Ryeowook’s back. He kept his hand there as they made love, pressed it hard against his shoulder blade, as if that alone could prevent another transformation and stop that wing from coming out.
He knew it couldn’t, but it didn’t stop him from wishing it would.
___
Between Icicle Inn and the Forgotten City
It had been one and a half months since Ryeowook’s transformation, and Yesung had been on edge for weeks, waiting for his next one. He had hoped that he could get Ryeowook to the Forgotten City quickly enough so that it wouldn’t have to happen again, but they had apparently spent too much time in Icicle Inn.
It came on them barely three days out of Icicle Inn, and this time they were asleep in the heat-retaining tent that they had bought before setting out from the town, so Yesung had no warning when Ryeowook began kicking and thrashing and screaming in his sleep, his small body stretched into a taut bow that looked like it could snap at any moment, and he bolted upright, wide awake in an instant.
His first instinct was to reach out and gather Ryeowook in his arms, but the moment he touched Ryeowook, he flung Yesung’s hands off with such force that Yesung himself was almost thrown back, Ryeowook’s screams echoing in the icy glade they were in and tearing his heart apart.
“Ryeowook,” he said helplessly, his hands shaking as he scrambled back across the tent towards him. “Ryeowook - “
Ryeowook screamed once more, high and piercing, before it tapered off to nothing as he rose into the air, and just in time Yesung remembered the advice Vincent and Cloud had given him and cloaked himself in an invisibility spell and a shield spell as well. The malevolent black wing burst out of Ryeowook and tore the tent open, his hair turning to that sickening shade of silver Yesung never wanted to see again, his eyes changing shades until they were a bright blue.
Those cold eyes scanned the area, passing right over Yesung - Yesung choked back a cry of Ryeowook’s name, though he wanted - oh how he wanted - to shout for him, to pull him down, to hold him in his arms until this whole nightmare disappeared, but then Ryeowook turned slowly in the air, the wing carrying him through the pitch black night until he disappeared into the horizon.
Yesung fumbled for the tracking device among the layers of the destroyed tent and found it easily, blinking blue as he switched it on.
“East,” he muttered to himself, and clenched his fists. East was where the Forgotten City lay, and with any luck, he would find Ryeowook near it. He looked in that direction, listening to the soft hooting of the owls in the forest he was in and feeling snowflakes land on his hair and face and hands, the metal plates on his gloves slick and wet with the snow.
He set his face towards the east and began running, his boots crunching on the ground. This time, he was truly alone, he knew it; there was no one to help him and Ryeowook anymore, no Cloud or Yuffie or Red, it was just him, and he was the only one who could save Ryeowook.
___
Forgotten City
The Forgotten City was an unearthly place, sitting alone in the middle of a dark forest in the very centre of the Northern Continent, and when Yesung stepped into it with Ryeowook, he felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle at the silence of the place, the whispered echoes of centuries past, the magic that still crackled in the air.
He had found Ryeowook five days before, further east from the City; Ryeowook had overshot it. It was a miracle he hadn’t died of hypothermia; Yesung estimated that he must have been lying out in the snow for at least 24 hours before he’d caught up and woke him up, and in fact when he’d found him Ryeowook was so cold and his pulse so low that he’d thought he must be dying. He’d warmed Ryeowook up with an infusion of Fire magic into his body and managed to wake him, but even so, Ryeowook had been too weak to move, and it had taken three days before they could backtrack to the Forgotten City.
Zwelrich was in the back of his mind as he entered the abandoned city that used to be home to the ancient race of the Cetra, of which Aerith had been the last surviving member, and from whose mummified bodies Shinra scientists had conducted experiments on and created the first known Jenova cells. That ill-fated experiment had spawned Sephiroth, and then Cloud, and then clones like Zwelrich. There were no more Jenova cells in the world; they had all been destroyed, and there would be no more clones.
Except for Ryeowook, who was now the only human on the Planet to have Jenova cells within him that could be farmed to create more clones.
Yesung held Ryeowook’s hand tightly as they picked their way through the shell-shaped buildings which once housed an entire race of beings. The city was beautiful, in a way, gleaming pink and silver and in surprisingly good condition despite centuries of abandonment, but also frightening; there were puffs of wind that sounded like sighs or whispers, and lingering residue of a powerful magic that had been used here.
“Something’s not right here,” Ryeowook said, as they crossed a long bridge over a shallow pool that led into another shell-shaped building, sitting alone on a solitary island at the end. They had stopped to consider if this was the lake Cloud had spoken about, but decided it couldn’t be, because it was too shallow, and the water looked perfectly ordinary and still.
“Why?” Yesung asked, nerves on alert as he scanned their surroundings for any sign of movement.
Ryeowook shook his head, a worried frown on his face. “I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it, but something feels wrong, somehow.”
Yesung didn’t feel anything. “Is it your Jenova cells reacting to the Lifestream? Or the Holy magic Aerith left behind?”
“It oould be,” Ryeowook admitted. “Let’s just be careful, Yesung.”
Yesung nodded, squeezing his hand comfortingly as they reached the end of the bridge and stepped into the bulding at the end, where they stopped short, their eyes met by a magnificent sight. Before them was an enormous lake, dotted here and there with pillars of crystal that rose majestically from the water, and quite unlike the pool outside, this lake was literally swirling; glittering droplets splashed merrily from it, and the water was a shining pale-green colour. Yesung knew instantly that this was the Lifestream.
“Cloud was right,” he said slowly, staring at the lake. “Cloud was right, this place did become a spring for the Lifestream!”
Ryeowook beamed up at him, and Yesung pulled at him. “Come on, Ryeowook, we need to immerse you in the lake, quick - “
“You’ll go no further.”
The cold voice cut through the air and stopped them in their tracks. Yesung looked up, in the direction the voice had come from, and felt his blood turn cold; it was Zwelrich, hovering above them, his wing flapping lazily.
“Zwelrich,” he hissed. “So you caught up with us.”
The clone tossed his head of long silver hair. “Your puny friends can’t do anything to stop me,” he sneered. “Nodal and Radiev were weak, but I am not. And I will take Ryeowook here. He belongs to me. To us, the Sephiroth clones.”
“He does not,” Yesung said dangerously, magic already dancing along his metal-sheathed gloves. “He doesn’t belong to a pathetic remnant, a nothing compared to what Sephiroth himself was.”
As he’d expected, Zwelrich’s eyes narrowed in anger; his wing flapped slightly harder, sending a gust of wind down on them. “I am just as good as Sephiroth.”
“Sephiroth would never have been driven off so easily by just Barret or Vincent,” Yesung taunted, and Zwelrich’s face contorted in rage.
“I won’t kill you, you little insect,” he said softly. “I will keep you alive, but I will put you in front of Ryeowook, make you watch what I do to him, how I change him into the Jenova fount, how I rebuild my army using him.”
“Try it if you can,” Yesung said, raising his fists. “We aren’t pushovers. Not like you.”
With a snarl, Zwelrich launched himself at Yesung, moving so fast he was surprised for a moment, but he sidestepped and the katana the clone was wielding sliced across his cheek, opening a deep cut, even though he hardly felt it - the blood was pounding in his veins and magic was thrumming in his hands and he just needed to hold Zwelrich off long enough for Ryeowook to immerse himself in the Lifestream. Of course, he would kill the son of a bitch into the bargain, but Ryeowook was more important right now, and he deflected another slash from Zwelrich, leaping forward towards Ryeowook.
“Go!” he roared at Ryeowook, and pushed him; Ryeowook began running down the steps leading to the lake, and Yesung tried to keep his eyes on him, but Zwelrich spun around and flew after him, arms outstretched.
“Jump, Ryeowook, just jump!” he yelled, but Ryeowook hesitated, his steps faltering as he turned to look back at Yesung. That moment of hesitation cost him; Zwelrich reached him before Yesung was even halfway down and picked him up as easily as if he were a rag doll.
“Ryeowook!” he shouted, and sent an Ice spell at Zwelrich, who laughed and parried it easily with his weapon.
“Now,” he said silkily, as Ryeowook kicked against him, “wake up, wake up, Jenova.”
He drew his katana across Ryeowook’s throat and Yesung’s mouth opened wide to scream - he was sure he was screaming, but his heart was pounding in his ears and he heard nothing, nothing except Zwelrich’s laughter, thin and high and hysterical, heard Ryeowook’s own shouts as his face twisted in agony, and then Zwelrich opened his arms and dropped him.
Yesung saw it all as if in slow motion - Ryeowook plummeting through the air, his arms spreading wide as his head dangled back, screaming and screaming as droplets of blood from his neck flew in a ghastly red trail before him, and he sprinted forward, but his legs felt slow and heavy and the air suddenly felt too thick - Ryeowook was dropping towards the ground and he would never reach him -
Then Ryeowook stopped abruptly in mid-air, and Yesung skidded to a halt just below him, watching as his mouth opened in a silent scream, and his back arched into a bow.
“No,” he said, his voice trembling. “Zwelrich, you bastard, no.”
Zwelrich only kept on laughing, the sound ripping painfully into Yesung, as the large black wing unfurled itself from Ryeowook’s back, cradling him.
“Not now,” he whispered. “Not now, Ryeowook, we’re so close.”
Ryeowook’s eyes snapped open then, and he looked straight down at Yesung as the black wing spread out wide to its full wingspan, and his eyes were still black, even though his hair was starting to grow already. They lightened to brown as Yesung watched, but then Ryeowook shut his eyes and shuddered, and when he opened them again, they’d reverted to black.
And Yesung could see Ryeowook, his Ryeowook, in those eyes, and knew that he was fighting, knew that he hadn’t lost him.
He did the only thing he could think of; he jumped up on a crystal pillar near him, and up another, until he was close enough to Ryeowook, and with a last leaping bound he jumped up at him. But he was too far, still too far - his outstretched hands were more than an arm’s length away from Ryeowook before gravity exerted its pull and he began to fall again, falling backwards from Ryeowook, and he howled in frustration.
“Ryeowook!” he yelled, and suddenly the huge black wing swept forward and brushed across Yesung’s chest, and instinctively he grabbed it with both hands, tugged at it, so Ryeowook was pulled down by his weight, both of them plunging towards the lake that would save Ryeowook.
Zwelrich gave a roar of fury and sped towards them, but this time Yesung was ready; as Zwelrich came at him, he grasped the blade of the katana with one hand, keeping the other on Ryeowook’s wing, not caring even when the blade sliced the leather open and bit into his flesh almost to the bone. He hung on to it and pulled Zwelrich down with them, feeling himself fall, fall, fall.
The last thing he heard before his back hit the water of the lake was Zwelrich’s anguished scream, but he kept his eyes locked on Ryeowook’s ones, still black, all the time.
___
Spring of the Lifestream
”I just want to be okay again,” Ryeowook cried, clinging to him, his small body shaking in his arms, and Yesung had never felt so helpless in his life. “I just want these headaches to stop, the pain is killing me, Yesung, it’s hell.”
“I promise you,” Yesung said, his voice low, as he held Ryeowook on the bed of the clinic, the strong smell of disinfectant pervading the room; it was a smell that both of them had grown unhappily accustomed to over the months Ryeowook had been having the headaches. “I promise, I’ll get this out of you even if it kills me.”
Yesung awoke.
He blinked his eyes, because he was sure that he was dreaming. There was Ryeowook above him, hands gently stroking his face, but that couldn’t be. Yesung should have drowned in the lake. He knew he had fallen into it, and he would definitely have drowned in it. And Ryeowook had been halfway through transforming, and he might have been too late, and Zwelrich -
He sat bolt upright, taking in Ryeowook’s appearance, which was normal - short black hair, round black eyes, and not a sign of a wing anywhere. He looked down at his hand, remembering how Zwelrich’s katana had sliced into it and cut it open to the bone. There wasn’t so much as a scratch on it. Even the leather of his glove was whole and undamaged, and he stared disbelievingly at it. He reached up to caress his cheek, where he’d suffered a slash, and found it uninjured as well.
“Where are we?” he mumbled.
“At the Forgotten City still,” Ryeowook answered quietly. “We’re next to the Lifestream. I woke up next to you, right here. I don’t know what happened.”
“Was that… a dream?” Yesung asked, looking out over the lake. It was swirling as it had before, and there were no signs of a scuffle, and more importantly - no sign of Zwelrich.
Ryeowook shook his head. “If it was, we were having the same one.”
Yesung stared at Ryeowook for a moment, then reached forward and slid a hand up his shirt, feeling for that scar on his back. He found nothing except smooth, unblemished skin, and gasped.
“It - it’s gone! The wing scar! It’s gone!”
“Does that mean… we did it? I’m saved?” Ryeowook asked in a small voice.
“I don’t know. I hope so, but I don’t know.”
“And… what about Zwelrich?”
Yesung shook his head. “I don’t know. This is all so confusing. I don’t remember anything.”
“Neither do I,” Ryeowook said, his face distressed. “Yesung, I’m scared. What if I’m not really cured? What if Zwelrich is still out there? Yesung, I need to know for sure.”
“We need to call Cloud,” Yesung decided, fumbling for the phone in his back pocket. He pulled it out and looked at it, apparently unscathed from being dunked in the lake. Yesung hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was possible for it to work after being immersed in water, but Ryeowook squeezed his arm and he realized this wasn’t the time or place to work out the intricacies of what had just happened to them.
“What happened?” was the first thing Cloud said.
“We don’t know, and we were hoping you could solve it for us,” Yesung said drily.
By the time they finished relaying the events to Cloud, taking turns to tell him what transpired, they could almost hear the smile in his voice when he said, “Thank Aerith.”
“Sorry?”
“Thank Aerith. I think she helped you.”
“Isn’t - isn’t Aerith dead?” Ryeowook asked uncertainly.
“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t have power left,” Cloud said quietly, and Yesung remembered those other stories he’d heard about Cloud, how Aerith had helped him through the Lifestream after her death.
“I understand,” he said.
There was a short pause, and then Cloud said, “Well, what are you waiting for? Come on home.”
Yesung cut the connection and turned to Ryeowook, smiling. “It’s over.”
Ryeowook flung himself forward, into Yesung’s arms, and Yesung held him close, feeling his shaky breaths against his chest. “I guess we really should thank Aerith, huh?” Ryeowook said, laughing and crying all at once, and Yesung nodded.
“Yeah,” he replied, looking out over the beautiful lake. “Thanks, Aerith, wherever you are.”
There was a gentle puff of wind that swept past his cheek as the words left his mouth and he almost thought he heard a gentle whisper in that breeze, but he looked down at Ryeowook and decided not to question it, choosing to just savour the moment of having Ryeowook alive and whole and healthy again.
___
Icicle Inn
They were cooking in the tiny kitchenette of their hideout, Ryeowook wielding spatulas and pans with as much dexterity as he did his beloved gun, when Yesung suddenly said, “One day, after this war is over, we’re going to get a bigger house.”
Ryeowook laughed. “We are,” he agreed, stirring bubbling stew in a saucepan. “Preferably one with a big kitchen, please.”
“Let me look at some real estate brochures,” Yesung said solemnly, and they cracked up; there was no ‘real estate’ worth a damn in Midgar, devastated by years of war and the Shinra Corporation bleeding the city dry.
But it was something they liked to dream about.
“We’re not coming back.”
“What?”
“We’re staying at Icicle Inn, Tifa. Permanently.”
“I thought you wanted to come back to Midgar!”
“Well, we changed our minds. This is where we want to be.”
“Hey, you can’t just leave us here.”
“We’ll visit, we promise.”
There was an ominous crackling over the phone as Yesung held his breath, waiting for Tifa’s response.
There was a sniff. “You’ll come back and visit? Really?”
“Of course we will,” Yesung assured her. “We’ll even drop by Wutai, Nibelheim, wherever, once in a while. It’s just, we want to have a quiet place of our own, right here, and we love it in Icicle Inn.”
“As long as you do come back and see us.”
“We will,” Yesung promised. “We won’t forget you, or everyone else. Thank you for everything.”
“Be happy, Yesung,” Tifa murmured, and Yesung smiled at Ryeowook, whose back was to him, as he wiped dust off the windowsills of the little house they’d bought in the town.
“I will be.”