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Sephiroth had always been meant for death, and he never felt that more keenly than when he came to this place.
He moved through the greenhouse like a blade, silently cutting past the foliage. The luxuriant, almost abnormal green of the plants packed into the area made it hard to see more than a few feet ahead of him, but he walked as surefootedly as he ever did on a battlefield.
There. He could see a flash of pink at the center of the greenhouse, flitting back and forth. As always, Aerith was at the heart of the growth she encouraged, working tirelessly to help things live and thrive.
Silently, he unsheathed Masamune and used the blade to flick and lift a bloom from a bush. The fragile blossom lay on the lethal silver blade, soft and creamy pink and breathtakingly fragile.
He appeared behind her in a silent rush, displacing the humid air fast enough to make her petal-pink skirt rustle against her legs and the trailing length of her ponytail blow over her shoulder in a river of golden-brown silk.
"You're careless, little Cetra." Masamune slid past her shoulder, razor edge mere centimeters away from her neck. "You should be more on your guard."
Aerith tensed, then relaxed. "Why? No one comes here except me." She reached up to pluck the dewy blossom from the lethally sharp blade. "It's beautiful. Thank you." When she turned to smile at him, Sephiroth felt as if he'd taken a full hit from the monster that Genesis called a sword. "I wasn't expecting you back so soon."
"I was more effective than usual." He sheathed his sword with effortless grace.
She arched an eyebrow at him, tilting her head back so she could meet his eyes. "You mean you were more reckless."
"Hmm." He arched a brow right back at her. "Was I? I am very good at removing obstacles."
"Yes, you are." Aerith's smile took on a sad edge. "Especially when they're Hojo's obstacles."
"If I was made to be a Calamity, I should at least be able to choose the application of my misfortune. I choose him." Sephiroth cupped her cheek, wishing he could feel her skin, but not wanting to take his hand from her long enough to remove his glove. "He's taken too much from too many to be allowed to live." He's taken too much from you for me to allow him to live.
Aerith leaned into his touch. letting him feel the warmth of her seep into his palm. It felt like a benediction that he didn't deserve. Her green eyes, still so luminous and full of hope despite everything she'd seen and lived, glowed when she smiled up at him. "Death might be what he meant you for, but that's not all you are. You know that, Seph."
"I have... learned that." He leaned down, resting his forehead against the top of her head. Aerith's scent surrounded him, softer and headier and more real than any of her beloved plants, and her hair was soft silk against his skin. "You taught me that. But I will still choose death if it means protecting life. If it means protecting your life."
"You are part of my life." It was a fierce whisper, accompanied by her free hand fisting in his coat. "The best part. I don't want to lose you."
"I..." I love you. It was what he wanted to say. It was what he could never say. Instead he swallowed the words. I can't tell you. But I can protect you. That's all I can do. It has to be enough.
Sephiroth permitted himself to stroke the shining fall of her hair once. Just once. "I will always come back for you, Aerith Gainsborough."