Ceaseless Oblivion

Change is imminent soon in this story, and this is the first stepping stone of it. It might seem too soon…but if this were a book, this is the 7th chapter after all, and people fall in love in many novels within the first few chapters. This will not be one of those stories though, not at all. Just a fair warning. :D

One more thing! I made the fact that Sephiroth could never taste up entirely, for I know that's not the way it is. But I created that in my SephirothxAeris story, and it seemed like it would tie into this one. After all, this story was inspired by the event in the first chapter in that story, where Cloud and him are fighting on a cliff. So please, don't tell me that isn't correct, for that is true, yet not the case at all.

I own nothing. Still. I'm working on weaseling the copyright out of Nomura though…


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A man cannot free himself from the past more easily than he can from his own body. ~André Maurois

The more Cloud thought about it, the less sense it made. Then again, this world was not meant to make any semblance of logic, or rationale. Who would believe that the Goddess existed, and made people go on seeming impossible odysseys simply for their own soul?

As strange as it was to say, there was no way that all of this could not be happening. He looked around, and saw the immense and profound dark of the land, one that no amount of blinking would bring to light. He heard the rustle of the leaves overhead, ones that were moved by some eerie wind, a sound even his ears could not deny. Everything was true, even if it was shrouded in blackness.

Also, what made no sense whatsoever was that the Goddess wished to have him be with Sephiroth. Sephiroth! His enemy! The thought was laughable, that anyone would have him spend his company with someone who had once toyed so severely with his mind. If anything, shouldn't said Goddess be concerned with his safety? The man had tried to kill him many times, countless times, and he had brutally slaughtered everyone who he had grown up with. Tifa's father. His own mother. Every single child, neighbor, and friend that he had gained over the years, all gone because Sephiroth had a bout of insanity, and his masamune had dire consequences, ones that he had to live through every single day of his life.

Though, if this counted as living, Cloud would have to find another definition of life.

As of late, all he did was travel. His feet walked in a straight and sure line, never wavering, steady as an arrow, for all he wanted was to leave this forsaken place and be done with it. The promise of the afterlife led his actions, and he would do anything to get there, and to find that promised peace. He only stopped to hunt some of the woodland creatures in the forest with Sephiroth three times a day, for they needed to eat. The basic of necessities were not lost on them.

Cloud fashioned pointed sticks into spears, and he watched as some rabbits feasted on grass, unaware of his presence. Like a mighty hunter, he bolted from the undergrowth, feet pumping, wings itching for flight. He ignored their call, and speared not one, but two rabbits for the meat. Sephiroth did the same for dinner, as they took turns hunting. Cloud didn't like the idea of giving Sephiroth a weapon, but he knew he could hold his own and then some against the man.

That was one more thing that made no sense whatsoever: the severe change in Sephiroth's mannerisms. Where there had been an erratic and unstable man, in his place now was an observant and determined personality, one who took up the spear without a thought, and came back with only what was required. Sephiroth had not gone on a feeding frenzy like he had feared he would with the sight of so much red from the blood spilled from the animals. He simply killed, and dropped the weapon when he was done with it, the way a position was taken out of duty and not of passion. It about stopped Cloud in his tracks the first time it happened.

Sephiroth placed the rabbits on the ground, and began to skin them with a rock that had been fashioned to be a dull knife. Within a few minutes, the first rabbit was done. He handed Cloud the blade, and he accepted it, all the while on edge for any sudden movements from the man. Who knew what convoluted scheme he was coming up with? He could not be trusted with a weapon, which was why he had watched from a safe position in the forest, ready to stop him if he got too out of control. But Sephiroth merely did what was asked of him and killed two brown rabbits, setting them down on the earth almost…tenderly. This was unreal!

Cloud skinned the rabbit, and waited for any unexpected moves from the man, ones that let him know that he was enjoying the sight of death a little too much. But it never happened. Sephiroth merely placed the meat over their fire, and cooked it with a crude revolving stick, one that the cavemen might have used long ago. He was being…normal. The thought almost made him laugh, for there was no such thing where Sephiroth was concerned. His purpose had been to send a huge Meteor to harm the Planet, so much to the effect that even after that, Gesotigma occurred. The memory of the pain it caused him made him shake off any idea, any stupid notion that Sephiroth was trying to be…normal.

"It's ready." Cloud was so deep in thought that he jumped a little, cutting his hand on the makeshift blade. He looked at the wound on his finger, and saw Sephiroth gesturing to the rabbit, a confused and almost…guilty look in his eyes. What was he looking like that for? Cloud placed his finger in his mouth and sucked the access blood off, knowing that his own saliva would help to heal the cut.

"Alright." He released his finger, and got up from where he knelt, ready to place the rabbit on the stick. Sephiroth looked to the rabbit, and made a face.

"Strife, you are bleeding everywhere." Cloud looked to the rabbits hide, and saw that indeed, the blood from the wound on his hand was getting on the meat. Sephiroth took it from him quickly and placed it in the river, rinsing the meat off. Then he placed it on the stick, and in a move that appalled and startled Cloud, tore off part of his shirt for a bandage. He began to approach Cloud's hand, but Cloud shook his head.

"Don't." Cloud quickly did the same with his shirt, and wrapped up his finger with the makeshift binding, his fingers working frantically. Just the thought of Sephiroth touching him sent revulsion through his body. After a minute, his finger was secure from infection, and would heal soon. Sephiroth shrugged, and threw part of his shirt away, and went to the rabbit that he had cooked for himself. Only…something in his body language made Cloud think twice about what had just happened.

Sephiroth walked and sat down with his usual grace, one that was usual of him to have. He sat down and began tearing at the meat, chewing it a few times, and swallowing, repeating the act of eating. He had done this with a thoughtful expression every single time that he had eaten in this world, as if he were thoroughly enjoying his meal, thinking of tabulated phrases in which to describe the flavor. But that was not Cloud's concern.

Right then, Sephiroth possessed a demeanor of a man that had his feelings trampled on, a good deed turned away simply because of a petty disagreement, or difference. It was far from petty, so Cloud tried not to think of it.

Still, Cloud's nature was inevitably good, and his mind could not help but think of it. By rejecting the good and nice offering of the bandage, he had thrown up another wall above his boundless façade, one that would not let anything he did not approve of in. They were the walls of his heart and soul, something he trusted no one to climb. There were locks on all of his doors, keys that were hidden from even himself. It was the way he had to be, for he didn't wish for anyone to know what was going on with him. Tifa had told him that he had to make more of an effort to let people in, to not be so…gloomy all of the time. How could he not when everyone depended on him to be…strong and perfect? Just like Atlas, the world rested on his shoulders time and again, and such a person could not let what made them hurt show.

Cloud sighed aloud, and knew he would regret saying anything. Silence was best, right? The friendly face of Zack Fair flashed through his mind, and his most memorable sentence echoed through his ears. 'It's worth fighting for.' Yes…the Promised Land. If he made…an effort to try to grapple with this situation, sooner or later he would understand it. It was as if he were a mathematician, trying to solve a complicated proof that seemed impossible to comprehend, or even understand. But if he stared at it long enough, thought long and hard about the equation at hand, sooner or later, he would find the answer, the solution that his soul longed for. It was so crazy, trying to understand a monster. But, the act Sephiroth did was…nice.

With his teeth, he removed the bandage from his hand, the one that he had made for himself. Sephiroth saw this, but said nothing. Cloud then walked around, as if he were looking on the ground for something he had dropped, all the while wondering who in the Hell was controlling his actions. He found what he was looking for: the piece of cloth Sephiroth had tore from his own shirt, trying to bind up his cut. It was nice, but it was not without a doubt selfless. The man still could not be trusted, but since he had been monitoring him without his knowledge, and was showing promise, Cloud figured he could, just this once, give him the benefit of the doubt.

The blonde haired man bound his cut with that cloth and walked back to his food without a word, knowing that by now, part of it had to be cooked. Sephiroth still had said nothing, and who knew? Maybe he hadn't noticed anything.

He checked his meat, and found that it was not even done. Unless he liked raw meat, he would have to wait a while for his meal. His stomach grumbled angrily, demanding that he eat something, but he would ignore it. Cloud had always been good about denying pain, acting like it didn't exist.

Silence stretched between the pair, intertwining and loping into a ceaseless pattern of quiet, something that Cloud had had no problem with. But right now, there was an awkwardness about it that made him tense up. Something had to be spoken, even if it was pointless small talk. A question sprang to mind, one that he hoped didn't sound too foolish for asking. But it was words, something that would resound louder than the quiet.

"Is this your favorite?" Sephiroth looked up from where he had been burying the bones of his rabbit, already finished with his meal. An inquiry lit his oculars, as well as the disbelief of Cloud talking with him. Cloud chastised himself, knowing this was ridiculous. It made no sense for someone to be talking with someone who was their sworn and bitter enemy. Though, the circumstances were what they were, and they had to be looked at logically: if he was to remain on bad terms with Sephiroth, then nothing would be accomplished.

Sephiroth cleared his throat, and then spoke. "It is good. I'm not sure what my favorite is. I have not tasted since now." This puzzled Cloud. What did he mean by not being able to taste until now? He figured he should put that question into words, instead of his typical silence.

"What do you mean?" Sephiroth looked to him, and settled himself into his position on the ground, as if he were about to tell a story.

"Strife…Cloud…do you really care to know?" Cloud met his eyes, and found that inside of them, there was every emotion possible: hesitance, reluctance, and the ever present confusion. This could not be happening! Sephiroth was…vulnerable? Who knew the once invincible man would be so…meek over something as simple as an unveiling of the past? If that was indeed what he was doing that is.

Cloud thought about it for a moment, and then answered in a nod. "Yes. Tell me what you mean." Sephiroth looked to the ground, and placed his fingers in a blade of grass, twisting the pieces around as if they were his inner conflict, mutating and shifting into something upon this confession. If that was what it was, and not some plan to lure him into a false sense of safety. Cloud tried to kill off his paranoia, and for the moment, it was defeated.

"While I was on Gaia, not once was I able to taste any food or beverage." Cloud did a double take, and resisted the urge to twist his finger into his ear to see if he was hearing the man correctly. What did he mean by that? "I still felt hunger, but I ate merely…to fill the void. You are familiar with the pain of hunger, the burn in your stomach and the twist in your core when you want something to eat. Like no one else, I ate merely to quench that feeling, not caring what it was." He stopped playing with the grass, and looked Cloud in the eye. Something struck Cloud then, a feeling of intuition that let him know that despite everything, that he was telling the truth. He was being brutally honest! Still, couldn't the most beautiful liar construct emotion and then project it to be that vulnerability he had seen in his eyes? That was deception, a con act.

Cloud knew that he was supposed to reply to that. He swallowed twice, and began to talk. "Not once? Not even in your childhood?" Sephiroth shook his head.

"Never. I was never able to discern the difference between a spice, or something sweet. Once…Genesis told me that what I was eating was a pepper that was the hottest in the country, and I had four of them before I realized that my tongue had gone numb." Sephiroth bowed his head, as if he were shamefaced, guilty of such an act. Cloud was struck dumb by the act. What in the Goddess's name was he doing? He looked so…timid right then, the image of a guilty man who was confessing his sins to a priest, hiding his face so that he wouldn't see his tears.

One single moment of empathy struck through Cloud's seeming impenetrable armor, and he felt it lodge itself in his chest, a shard that was minute, yet still present. What would it be like to never taste? He would have never had the pleasure of sweets, of the candies he so loved in his youth. His mother's cooking would have been lost on someone who had not the capability of taste buds. Everything would be…stagnant, flavorless. How…sad. How utterly and completely tragic. He was sure his mouth was agape now, and that his eyes were wide from his effort to understand the man. If again, that was what he was doing.

"And now? You can taste?" Sephiroth nodded, and looked to the fire where Cloud's rabbit was cooking, almost near its completion.

"Yes. The meat on this rabbit is tender, and filled with flavor. The boar's we have had previously have a spice to them, something I have never known." Cloud let this information digest, and he had no idea how he felt about it. He knew that Sephiroth had above normal eyesight, hearing, and extreme training. He had been a 1st Class SOLDIER after all, and there was no hiding that that was impressive, awe inspiring actually. But at what cost? All other senses were heightened, while secretly, he longed for the final fifth sense: taste.

Cloud decided to ask another question, one that would hopefully not make him…feel as he did right then. "Do you know why you were this way? Unable to taste I mean?" Sephiroth looked to him, and nodded, the act grave.

"Hojo. What ShinRa did to me as a child rendered me incapable of tasting anything." Cloud felt his stomach lurch, for he had seen what ShinRa had done to him, saw how Hojo had operated on him, probed and touched him, repairing and adding onto the super child, all the while leaving him to suffer without taste. Without taste a child was not able to enjoy anything. Cloud suddenly saw vast differences between him and Sephiroth, ones that he was unable to stop calculating at lightning speed. His childhood must have been utter paradise compared to the Hell the other man had experienced.

Behind his eyes, Cloud saw the image he had constructed of Sephiroth, the one that had been his idol and ultimate image shatter. He had placed him on a pedestal, one in which he had assumed he had the perfect life, the fame, and the talent that could compensate for all of the faults of reality. But the truth was, that behind all of that glory and seeming invincibility, there was a man who desired nothing more than to find purpose, than to do something as simple as enjoy food. Though, Cloud had no idea if any of what he thought about Sephiroth was true, for he was not him, nor was he a mind reader. He scoffed at himself, and about reeled away in terror, one that was not instilled by any monster. It was the horror that made him believe he was starting to…understand Sephroth. Never! He could not allow such a thing to happen!

His eyes lowered to the ground, and he felt two sides of himself do battle with the other, the old Strife who believed that Sephiroth had paved his own path and could never change, no matter how much Zack or any other entity told him otherwise. The other side told him that there was a chance that any creature, no matter how wicked or evil, could change and see the mistakes they had done, and not only see them, but understand and learn from them. The colors clashed, as if some painter had crudely thrown many shades on a canvas in a fit, the lighter ones representing his present state, that Sephiroth could not change. The darker tones were his opposite, what he was fighting against: that Sephiroth, in telling him this "true" confession, was trying to be good.

Cloud realized he had been silent for a long time, and he shook his head suddenly when Sephiroth called his name. Cloud had been staring at the ground, the earth highlighted by the gleam of his skin and wings, and had been in such a state of thought, that he had not heard Sephiroth move. He lifted his face, and saw that Sephiroth was about twelve inches from him, the equivalent size of a ruler. In the light from his own skin, he was able to see every single shade of Sephiroth's eyes, the liquid mako that seemed to be pieces of that hated energy source. Poison was in his very oculars. And yet…Cloud was held captive by them, for a moment of what could only be justified as temporary insanity.

He looked every inch the confused and kindred spirit Cloud had never thought Sephiroth of being. In his minds eye, he saw Sephiroth falling, screaming from the Heaven's, two black wings on his shoulders. The feathers turned to ash as a red hand tore his wings from his back, leaving him to tumble head over feet from the skies he had once taken refuge from. That was his past, his fall from grace, the fall being the Nibelheim Incident.

Right then, in the present, Sephiroth was the fallen angel who reached for a hand, for a light that his own skin emanated, while he was on the ground. He crawled on hand and knee, the once invincible Sephiroth, looking for a new source of purpose, of drive. That's right. Everything he had thought to be true was a lie, and right now, he was searching for something new. Sephiroth was a lighthouse, a cold and lonely light breaking through the gray tempest on a cliff side, searching for the sailor to find him and give him something constructive to do with his light, with his very body.

Cloud was struck by how profound his thought pattern was going, for he had never thought of anything like that before. Before all of this relocating, he had been stuck in his pattern of thinking, that he had to be a delivery boy to support himself, knowing that the time for fighting was over with. How wrong he had been, for he had been so eager to grab the Buster Sword and charge into battle, veins pumping with adrenaline, with purpose itself. Being a warrior was in his blood, for he had the strength to protect everyone from the curse of being locked in that mako chamber. The mako itself seeped into his skin, giving him supernatural abilities that SOLDIER's could only dream about having. He could fight without tiring, leap into the air and not come down, as if gravity didn't exist for one such as himself. His sword seemed to be weightless, effortless, which had led to his arrogance before he had found Sephiroth trying to kill the Planet. Of course, all of the history he had spoke of so foolishly to Aeris and everyone else was a lie, for they were all of Zack's memories, true events that happened. All of it was false.

In that instance…he and Sephiroth were alike. Trying to piece together parts of themselves to find what was true, and what deserved to be left alone for a long while. Sephiroth was trying to find something real to fight and live for, as he had been all that time ago, many years. They were…the same. Cloud tried to back pedal on that thought, but it was no use, for it was in his head now. And if he knew one thing to be true, it was that no matter how strange the thought, it haunted that person at randomized points, for there was no removing inception once it was put into play. He and Sephiroth…were the same?

Somewhere, he knew that Zack was smiling. Could this be one step closer to finding the exit? If only they both saw that they were the same on some degree, then maybe, just maybe…they would escape this place. He would be allowed entrance into that white world, the one with children's playing and smiling faces, all because he gave the effort. Nothing was accomplished without trying after all.

Again, Cloud realized he had not replied at all, and had been conversing, battling, and strategizing in his mind. So much, that Sephiroth must have thought he was a real space case. That, or someone who feigned interest just to lose it when it mattered most. No. He was not arrogant.

"Yes?" Sephiroth gestured to the fire.

"You're lunch is on fire." Cloud looked over his shoulder, and ran to the stick that was starting to curl up and turn black. He saved it before his meal went into the flames, and he placed it on a few large leaves, knowing the meat was done cooking. It was slightly more brown than he would have liked, but it was food nonetheless. He needed all of his energy for travel, so he could not have the luxury of being picky. He looked up to Sephiroth, in which he saw that an amused look had come to his face.

"T-thanks." Cloud began tearing the meat a part, shoveling it into his mouth, knowing that if he did such a thing, it would prevent him from talking for a while. He chewed, and thought about his very sudden revelations. Could Sephiroth, the man who had so mercilessly killed people, be the same as him? Could said being…change?

He felt the pain of Geostigma on his arm again, something that had made him feel so powerless, "not fit to help anyone" as he had once put it. He saw, with growing horror, the man come down from the ceiling and kill Aeris as she selflessly prayed at the altar, trying to help the Planet. He sensed the tickle in his subconscious, one that let him know that there was no escape from Sephiroth's control over him. All of it came to him like a black tidal wave, pulling him in and out of his current state of mind. He was in the midst of a moral dilemma, one that let him know that if he took a certain path, sooner or later, he would forgive Sephiroth. The other path would enable him to find the evil in him to kill Sephiroth, right before they left this god forsaken oblivion, stab him right through the heart, even if it meant his ultimate damnation. Which road should he take?

He heard Sephiroth stand up and walk over to the river, their one constant in this place. It ran in between the trees, and they always traveled by it, knowing that it was pure enough to drink and bathe in. The man washed his hands from the meal, and began walking back, seeming to be deep in thought. Cloud quickly finished his meal, buried the bones in the soft earth, and looked up to his companion.

"Sephiroth…let me be frank. You killed my mother, toyed with my mind, and inflicted so much hurt on so many people I love. You once told me that I should tell you what I cherish, so that you could give me the "pleasure" of taking it away from me. How could I trust someone like that?" Sephiroth started and halted in his steps, as if he were about to go backward, and thought better of it. It was the look of a man who had not expected a confrontation, and had walked right in the middle of a war path.

He nodded, as if he had already resigned his fate. "Very well. Then you hate me." Sephiroth began to walk right past him, and Cloud felt a spark of anger run through his veins. Why did he think he would be so easy to walk away from?

Cloud leaped up, and grabbed the man's arm, spinning him around. Sephiroth stopped and turned with the effort, and Cloud gripped his limb so hard, he was certain it would bruise later. So what? If he could get his point across, then he would tear off his stubborn head while he was at it. Cloud shook his head.

"You didn't let me finish! You did so many things to me, calling me your puppet, whispering in my ear…wanting to kill me on that cliff that started this whole mess...so much. And yet, despite our past, our dislike of the other…we are here. Together. And together, we have a task to accomplish: finding the escape through this abyss." Cloud released the stunned man's arm, and he saw no familiar spark of sinister light in the man's eyes, as if he were laughing inside at the thought of him attempting to harm him. There was simply…shock. That right there told Cloud that unless Sephiroth was evil enough, and clever enough to manipulate his facial expressions and emotions themselves, that he was indeed another person. Just by the mannerisms one could sense another man's story, and personality.

Shit. This really was happening. He was preparing to take the road less traveled, the path to forgiveness. He saw himself at a fork in the road on Fenrir right then, looking out into two possible outcomes: one road led to a malicious forest, lightning splitting the sky. There was a wave of almost irresistible anger and revenge in the wind, one that told him that if he went there, he would be resigned to a fate of endless fighting, battling because he was mad at everything. Hatred would be this path, and his heart would corrode once more, falling away into nothing more than ashes behind his ribcage, choking his lungs and body with his self pollution.

The other road was rougher, many cliff's and valley's lining the journey, a path where not many footprints lined the way. It was the road less traveled after all. It was a expedition that would not be easy, for in those lands, he saw thunderclouds and lightning, the forces of nature working against him. But after all of that ceaseless travel, he found himself staring at a bright orb of yellow light, which he had safely assumed was ultimate sublimation. There, after all of that, was his answer. His purpose had let him stay there, bathed in purity, where he would be reborn and gain entrance into a world of utopian wonders, where he would see his mother, Aeris, and Zack once more, for all eternity it seemed. Zack was right: it was worth fighting for.

Cloud captured Sephiroth's eyes in his own, his oculars telling him he had more to say. "We need to do this together. You spoke of a truce." He stuck out his hand, for it was the gentleman thing to do: shake on a vow, on a promise.

Sephiroth stared at it, as if it were the most frightening thing he had ever seen in his life. Cloud had been there. He understood right then what Sephiroth was going through, for he was not on Gaia, a place that had been poisoned by said man. He was somewhere else, an environment where memories were the only plague that Sephiroth had given him. Cloud thought he must have been dreaming, for surely he was not about to shake his enemies hand?

"What do you say? Should we vow right now to not kill the other? Someone once told me that forgiveness was the understanding that another made mistakes, and knowing that they have flaws. But choosing instead to look beyond their imperfection, the blood on your hands, and never speaking of it again. That's how I think of…forgiveness." What was he saying? He forgave Sephiroth? No, not yet. He had yet to see how anyone could do such cruel things and be allowed to live. Right now however, was a step towards a truce, towards two men bonding together to escape something external that opposed their longing for peace and answers. Thus, if they bonded together, they would find their way.

Sephiroth stared at his hand, as if it were the meaning between life and death right then. Then he spoke. "Someone once told me that if I try to understand another," his eyes blazed when he said that word, another, for Cloud knew he meant himself "that in return, that person would do the same for me." He looked to the hand outstretched towards him, and grabbed it, shaking it twice. Sephiroth dropped his hand then, and began walking, walking towards whatever it was that he and Cloud had accomplished, towards where he wanted to go: forwards.

Cloud felt a shimmer in his peripheral vision, and he knew that without a doubt, this was Zack, telling him to go on, to lead Sephiroth from the light from his skin, as well as the light from within himself. All of this made no sense, and yet perfect sense. He nodded and ran to catch up with Sephiroth, knowing that this was not the end of their endeavors, merely the beginning. This was however, a baby step.


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