Ceaseless Oblivion

This chapter will be yet again, another stepping stone in Cloud and Sephiroth's budding…something or another relationship. Nothing smutty yet, for that is going to take time. Hold on guys, it's gonna be one Hell of a ride I can feel. :D

I own nothing. *pouts*


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Trust only movement. Life happens at the level of events, not of words. Trust movement. ~Alfred Adler

Humans, no matter how odd their situation or how grave their circumstance, always found a way to cope. Adaptation was ingrained in their very DNA, for without that attribute, the species would have died out a long time ago. Without embracing change, there would be nothing gained. Strength was earned from hurtling happenstance.

Lately, Cloud's life had felt like a moving target. Every time he thought he had a lock on the bull's eye, someone would turn the wheel again, and he would miss it by many inches, inches that were the difference between understanding and frustration. Still, he tried, for there was no giving up here. This world, this scenario he was in was all a part of some grand scheme, one that he would learn the importance of at some point in his life.

Though, there was no helping that he felt like a man who had been thrown in the middle of a play spotlight, not having read any lines, or having any inkling of what was going on in the play. That play was his life, for he had no clue what to say, how to act, or importantly, what to convey.

Cloud sighed when he felt his wings move, shuddering, as if they longed to soar skyward, bound for Heaven. He…didn't want that.

The Goddess gave him these wings for what purpose? For decoration, for…prettiness? He was never one for accessories, and aside from that, they were a pain in his ass. They were so large, he could probably stand in the middle of a huge expanse of a room, open his wings, and touch the far corners with the tips of them. Granted, they never bothered him while he slept, thankfully, for he just rolled to his stomach and fell asleep that way.

Still, they twitched, yearning to move, to do something other than hang uselessly from his shoulder blades. That's what they were after all, useless. It was because of them and his damned glowing skin that he was not normal anymore. He felt as if he were a freak of nature once more, one who not only had Jenova and mako in his veins, but something else as well. At least with the first two one could not see it projected on his skin. But this…this was as if he were given the curse outwardly, to where every eye could see what happened to him.

Once more, he sighed aloud and stopped in his tracks. He and Sephiroth had made some excellent progress in the last two days, ever since Sephiroth stopped his antics and gave in to another truce. Cloud was only happy to comply, for the point was to leave this place, and nothing could be accomplished if they were constantly bickering. There was no forgiveness yet, if it would come at all, but there was at least some degree of relation between the pair.

Sephiroth halted as well, and Cloud knew he was confused as to why they stopped. His wings were itching, and he felt as if he had to scratch at them, as if he were covered in irritating red boils. He brought the appendages forward and began to itch them, feeling some downing fall apart in his hands. What was this? Was he suddenly part bird?

"Strife…what's the hold up?" Cloud whirled around and gestured to his wings.

"They…itch. It's irritating." Sephiroth had his arms crossed over his chest, and with the way he was holding himself now, he looked as if he had gained back some of his old arrogance. But that was only in his body language. In his face and eyes, he still looked very confused, almost lost, as if he were a blind man searching for something that he could set his useless oculars on, and maybe if he did that, he would find an object that would restore sight to him. All of this Cloud could understand, however vaguely. He still didn't like the man, but for now, they were allies. And allies shared…their feelings, didn't they?

"Cloud…they're itching because you have not used them yet. Try to fly, it's not hard." Cloud felt his face tense. Of course it wasn't hard for him, for everything seemed to come effortless to the other man. He scoffed.

"No." He rolled his shoulders, and tried to command his wings to stop wishing to join the sky, to lure him into that inky black nothingness. That wouldn't happen. The Goddess had said to accept his gifts, as had Zack. But…if he used these things, then he would be openly admitting that everything in his life had changed. There was no stability anymore. There was no more Gaia, with the promise of a better life from James Shinra. There was no more 7th Heaven with a smiling Tifa, Denzel and Marlene to make his day. Fenrir might as well have been ash, as was Zack's Buster Sword. All was…gone. If he beat his wings, and took to the skies, he feared not only the elation of flight, but in showing that he was willing to use his abilities, the gifts the Goddess gave to him. He had used his mako induced strength, and look what happened. It wound him up in this fine mess. All power had to be watched carefully, for it always took a nose dive when the pilot got too cocky.

Sephiroth's touch on his shoulder alerted him that he had once again, gone deep into his mind. He had always been one for contemplative thought, but ever since he had come here, his thoughts were broader, more stretched out. Not that he gained instantaneous wisdom, but here his thoughts were more…detailed. Also, his senses seemed to be heightened due to the foreign ailment in his skin that allowed him to glow. He was not poisoned he knew, but Cloud never thought that he would get used to seeing himself set alight. Man was not meant to look so…surreal.

Which was why he stepped away from Sephiroth so suddenly, for his touch sent waves of electricity coursing through his body. Every pigment in his skin was set aflame, like it had been when he bathed and brushed against tree branches. He felt sensations in his flesh now, feelings that would have been lost to him had he been on Gaia. He shrugged the man off his shoulder gently, not wanting to show him how much that had affected him.

"Strife…has anyone ever told you that you're an ass?" Cloud snarled, but forced himself to remain calm. Truce…truce...to Hell with it.

"What the Hell does that mean?" Sephiroth snorted and began circling him, reaching for his back as if he wanted to touch his wings. Cloud dodged him, for he didn't want Sephiroth to touch him at all. Yes, he was still petty. But the truce was set, and he would not let himself break it, no matter how pissed off he got.

"You're stubborn is all. I did not mean to offend." Cloud stopped, thinking that Sephiroth had meant to call him names to make him infuriated, pissed off. He had enough to deal with without Sephiroth constantly picking on him, as if he were the older brother who enjoyed giving their younger sibling a hard time. But…that was not the case. He meant stubborn, as unyielding and hard headed as a pack mule, thus, an ass.

"Oh. Still. Don't touch me. I don't want to…fly." Sephiroth looked him in the eye, and Cloud saw his mouth open a few centimeters and then close, as if he had experienced enough shock in a few minutes to fill an entire lifetime. The emotion was gone as quickly as it had come though, but it was still prevalent in his eyes. The eyes told stories, and Cloud was not blind to his emotions. Sephiroth was confused, and there was a hint of sadness in his pupils, as if he were still blindly groping for purpose.

If only the man knew that he was as lost as he was. It was something he would never admit of course, for showing weakness was the stupidest thing one could do. It was the law of the jungle, for they were literally in a forest, in harrowing circumstances.

Also, there was envy there, as if simply looking at Cloud reminded Sephiroth of what he once had: his power, strength, and more importantly, his long black wing. Cloud recalled a saying his mother used to say "You never know what you've got till it's gone." That was so true. Cloud had not the time to say proper goodbyes to any of his friends, to tell Barrett and Vincent how much he appreciated their companionship over his years. He had not told Denzel he would make a fine man one day, nor did he kiss Marlene's forehead and call her a princess. Also, he had not the time to look upon Gaia once more, and to see Midgar, in all of its skeletal glory. His memories remained, but there was a huge difference between the impression and the actual thing. How he missed even the simple things.

Sephiroth laughed, and the sound was dark, but not as sadistic as it had been a few days previous. "You're a fool then." He turned on his heel and began hacking through some undergrowth, large ferns that were remarkably easy to pull away at the root. Sephiroth threw them aside, and Cloud saw his energy had come from anger, and the passion of jealousy. Sephiroth was…jealous of him? He had told him, in one of his bouts of mania, that he had had the ideal life, a life that was "unadulterated" as he had so eloquently put it. If that was what Sephiroth honestly believed, then Sephiroth was truly as crazy as the Planet thought he was.

Cloud approached him, and wanted an answer. Why was he a fool for not wanting to use his wings? Didn't the man see that if he did such a thing, he would subconsciously be turning his back on his old self, and gain the abilities of a demi-god? Of course not, for this was Sephiroth, a man stuck in his ways till the end of time it seemed.

'If he is stuck in his ways, then why is he being so nice to you?' Cloud blinked twice, and he felt his eyes twitch a few times, his mouth opening to where many insects could fly into his open mouth. The voice was unmistakable: Aeris. She had come to him a few times before, urging him forward even when his body was infested with Geostigma, and she had given him the ultimate leap, giving him the ability to go through the Bahamut's barrier, and hack it to smithereens. She was here?

'Aeris?' He waited a moment, but all was silent. It was one of those, a one sentence response from seeming nowhere that held all of the significance in the world. Cloud began walking and tore at the ferns, getting a decent amount hurled over his head. He happened to be so deep in thought, he lost his pattern and was met with a face full of dirt. He sputtered and sneezed, feeling soil travel up his sinuses.

"Really Sephiroth? Watch what you're doing." He coughed and walked towards the river, one that always seemed to be prevalent wherever he and his "ally" went. Cloud dunked his head a few times and emerged soaking wet, but clean. Sephiroth was leaning against a tree, watching him. A look of contemplation was in his eyes, as if he were an outsider watching some natural setting that was normal to everyone else, but for the outcast. It was the look of someone trying to understand another, their motives, their thoughts and their feelings. Cloud returned the look, and found that he and his former and possibly present enemy were in a staring contest. That was childish he knew, so he broke the look first.

"Tell me." Cloud looked up and his eyes lit up in inquiry.

"Tell you what?" Sephiroth sighed aloud and gestured to his own body. Cloud looked to his hands and wings, wondering what he was doing. Was this another bout of his unstable behavior?

"Tell me why you don't wish to fly. Then I will leave the matter alone." Cloud was dumbstruck, and for the moment, speechless. That was what he wanted? Just a simple answer?

Cloud swallowed a few times, and he felt his mind protest, telling him not to say a word. He could easily brush the matter off, but if he did that, he would be no better than when Sephiroth had, two days ago, done the same thing. He would not be like him, even in past actions. So, he decided to just tell him the truth. Cloud had no idea how much he would reveal though.

He snorted, and looked the man in the eye. "Why? Sephiroth…I'm not like you. I was not given a wing for SOLDIER and ShinRa. I don't know how to fly. Besides…I shouldn't be able to. Men are not meant to do that. It's what makes us human." Sephiroth watched him the whole time, as if he dared not move for fear of breaking Cloud's concentration. When he realized Cloud was done talking, the silver haired male sighed aloud.

"That's it? Because you are…different?" Cloud started, realizing how wrong that sounded. That sounded impeccably shallow, as if he were a young boy making fun of another classmate just because his eyes were a different color. That was pettiness once again.

"No. It's not natural to fly. If we should have wings, we would have been born with them." Sephiroth looked to him once, threw his head back and began walking without him, into the darkness. Shit. He had just pissed off the former deadliest men on the face of the Planet.

Cloud walked to catch up with him, for he knew that without the light from his skin, Sephiroth was bound to trip and fall, and possible injure himself. It wasn't like he cared for the man. But he had a duty to uphold, and he was supposed to be the one leading him! Why were things so difficult? He ran into the trees, dodging branches and roots every which way, and he saw that Sephiroth had gone a small distance without tripping.

"Hold on. Sephiroth…I don't want to fly because I am…admitting things have changed." Sephiroth stopped his tireless pace, and looked over his shoulder, a cold look in his eye. Cloud knew that look. The mere glance could have once froze the blood in his veins, as if his own life were ice. It was the look of someone who for the moment, wished for nothing more than to rip you apart. He tensed his hands, ready to fight. If Sephiroth attacked, he would be ready, pinning him like he had last time.

The man turned around, and Cloud saw the look in his eyes again, oculars that were edged with steel. "You are such a hypocrite. Here you are, preaching how we can have a truce, and yet, you wont embrace something as simple as your gifts." He shook his head, locks of silver hair falling in front of his eyes. "You really are weak." If there was one thing Cloud hated, it was being called weak. He snarled, but held his ground, balling his hands into fists once more, the pain his fingernails giving his hands a good distraction from this irritant man.

"I'm no hypocrite. I just…don't want to fly." Sephiroth laughed a short, sardonic chuckle. It was the false gaiety of a man who had lost everything and had witnessed his neighbor get filthy rich off of his own sorrows. There was bitterness in his eyes, in his tone.

"How can anyone…not want that?" Cloud heard a wistfulness in the man's tone as well, one that longed for that above all else. "Haven't you ever, once…wondered what it would feel like to fly?" Cloud was struck by the question. Of course, when he was a boy. But there was no time for memories of childhood here.

"Yes. But…I didn't ask for this…"

"You're such an idiot. Here you are, saying that you want purpose, and something to lead you through this. And what do you do? You take the gifts that Fate so graciously gave you, and you spit in her face." Cloud felt an uncomfortable feeling in his gut, one that twisted his stomach around until it felt like he had twenty dozen slip knots in his intestines. It was the feeling of knowing the one you hated the most was absolutely right, and giving you the best advice you had heard all day. He licked his lips, preparing to speak.

"I…don't mean to do that. To mock what you once were. I don't want to be a hypocrite either. I just…can't. I don't want to admit that…I can never go home again. I don't want to use the gifts, for if I just…ignore them, they will go away." Sephiroth sighed and walked over to him, and he tapped his hand twice against Cloud's head. It smarted, but they were tender blows, a love tap of sorts. He lowered himself to where he could look in Cloud's eyes, and he shook his head.

"I don't understand you. You have two wings. You have something in your skin that lights up this abyss. And yet…you deny it. Why deny… a blessing?" Cloud looked up to him, thinking that that might have been the most pure hearted thing the man had ever said. His face cast many shadows in the turquoise light, and he appeared as if he were someone who had woken up from a nightmare, and was trying hard to forget what horrors he had experienced in his sleep. They both had baggage, loads that could only go away through talking. He had opened up far too much already. Cloud had not even managed to do that with Tifa in his best mood. What was the difference between there, and here?

Cloud cleared his throat. "I…don't know what else to do." Sephiroth nodded, and he gestured to his wings.

"Allow me." He gripped the curved point of the wing bone, and began raising it up and down, as if he were a conductor leading an orchestra, all winds and wood instruments at his command. Cloud was about to protest before he touched him, but now that he did, he was met with immediate sensation.

This however, was different than all of the rest. Cloud felt as if he had stuck his finger in a light socket, sending a voltage through his inner core. All of the hairs on his arms stood erect, blades of grass reaching for tendrils of sunlight. What…was this? He felt his breath hitch when Sephiroth began moving his wings, his eyelids fluttering closed and to his utter horror, a moan slipped through his lips. What the Hell was he? Some wanton who loved it when her "master" did a position a certain way? Of course not. So…why was he making such a fuss over Sephiroth touching him?

He opened his eyes and saw that a centimeter away, Sephiroth lingered over his face. He saw in vivid detail every single fleck of skin on the man's face, the thin angle of his nose, and his full lips. Cloud felt his heart rate escalate, pounding in his skull as if rain hammered on the inside of a drum head, mercilessly beating in his chest. What…was this?

Sephiroth raised his brow and let his wings go. The sensation ended, and Cloud inwardly wiped his brow. Whatever it was, it was over now. As long as Sephiroth didn't touch his wings again, then he would be fine, and in complete control over himself. Control was important in this world, for he would have to be the one to lead this man out of this world. He was responsible for not only himself, but for Sephiroth.

Zack's voice came into his mind then and he told him to say exactly what he had thought, and to do that more often. Cloud would obey him now, and afterwards, he would take someone else's advice.

"Sephiroth…I am responsible for you." Sephiroth raised an eyebrow, as if the thought that he could lead him out of this world was the most amusing thing he heard in a long while. Cloud continued talking before he could interrupt him, or before he lost the nerve to speak. "I mean it. I'm your…light so to speak. So be it. And I have wings…so why don't I use them?" A grin stretched his lips, and he began beating the appendages once, twice, and then a third time, stretching the muscles that had not been used in the two or so weeks they had been in this world. It was as if he were trying to take the pins and needles feel out of a limb that had fallen asleep, that uncomfortable feeling he always hated.

Sephiroth took a step back, and began nodding. "Good. Keep doing that. Then, get a running start, and take to the skies, Strife." Cloud nodded and found a small opening in the canopy of trees above them. He ran a good fifty meters behind it, took a deep breath, and worked his legs as fast as they would go. He was a balance then, a fulcrum working with the wheel and pulley to propel himself forward, momentum his guide. As he ran, he knew that once he did this, he would never be able to go back. There would be no retracing steps, or turning back on this path, on this road. One couldn't go backwards in forwards flight after all.

So? He was finally, after much hesitation, taking action. 'Thanks Zack.' Cloud hadn't even the slightest conception that Sephiroth had also helped him realize this part of himself as well. But like all things, that took time: to realize that someone else had part in your change of heart.

His feet pounded on the earth, soil that was littered with fallen leaves and sticks, dirt that was soft and compact, ideal to sleep on. Cloud worked his arms and legs to the highest of their ability, swinging his arms as if he were an Olympic sprinter. One who was attempting to take flight better have a damn good start after all. He saw Sephiroth step out of the way, and he knew that the Sephiroth he had fought on Gaia would have stayed in his path, playing a twisted game of Chicken, him being the fool who taunted the oncoming train. But now, he was nothing more than an innocent bystander, one who wished for nothing more than to observe his attempt.

It would be more than an attempt; it would be true. Cloud beat his wings ten times and at the last moment, he thought that he would not make it. How humiliating it would have been to take a face plant in the dirt, to have a face full of leaves in his mouth. But that didn't happen. Instead, gravity was forgotten, and he defied it right then.

His wings worked, and he rose above and beyond the tear in the trees. Cloud beat his wings furiously, and he felt like a baby bird who had just ventured out of his nest for the first time without its mothers help or guidance. He was on his own with this, for he was the leader.

After a moment, he felt better about being free from the ground. Cloud felt as if he were on an amusement park ride, one that sailed you in a direct line for a long time, making the children and even the adults who went on the ride think that they were capable of flight. That was a mere sham of this ultimate consciousness.

He felt truly free right then, beating his wings as if they had always been a part of him. Cloud spread his arms out in front of him, feeling like a fighter jet, one who was capable of taking down the enemy with one blast from its mighty rockets. He felt a smile spread across his face, one that he could not hide if he tried. He, Cloud Strife, was flying. This was surreal, a taste of cloud nine and that ultimate sublimation he so thirsted for. If this was Heaven, then he didn't want to return to the Hell that was the ground.

He coasted the breeze, what little stagnant air there was, and he sailed in languid loops, taking in everything at once. He caught glimpses of the land they were in, and implanted it in his mind, knowing that this gift, these wings, would come in handy. After all, they were for the purpose of helping him and Sephiroth escape this barren wasteland. The Goddess truly was a genius, for with this gift, he would be out of here in no time, telling Sephiroth where to go to on the ground. They had to both be present at the exit of course, for he could not leave Sephiroth behind. That was part of the catch, the clause in the contract that ruled his life as of now.

But for the moment, he was not thinking about anything other than this feeling. Everyone wanted it, that feeling of flight, of weightlessness. People dreamed of it, children taped wings to their backs and spun around their living rooms, and birds were looked on in envy, for they had the ability of picking up and flying off to the next best thing. He was given the best gift of all, something even Sephiroth himself was jealous of.

One question came to mind. "Why me?" He spoke this aloud, and with a sigh, he turned back, turning his wings at an angle as if he had done this his entire life. Perhaps he had always been a born flier. His name was Cloud after all, meaning that he was part of the sky already.

"If you could see me now, mother." He shook those thoughts from his head and dropped from the canopy as if he were a cannon, startling Sephiroth. He chuckled and rose from his crouched position, dusting off leaves and the dirt from his pant legs.

"What's the matter? Never seen a grown man fly before?" Sephiroth blinked a few times, and then chuckled softly, a sound that was almost melodic. It was not harsh sounding like his dark laughter.

"It appears even Strife has a humorous side." His face then became serious. "What was it like?" Cloud swallowed a few times, trying to phrase the words right. He was struck by how odd this situation was, at how somehow, within the passage of time, he was able to converse with his once worst enemy, almost…openly. Granted, it was not entirely open, but there were openings, holes in the walls of his own façade that he allowed passage through.

"It was…indescribable. I felt free." Sephiroth nodded grudgingly, as if he wished to know the taste of the freedom he spoke of. Envy was written all over his face, as well as some identified emotion Cloud could not place. Was it…it couldn't be. It was not awe.

"I remember it well. Cherish it Strife." He motioned with his head to their path. "Shall we go?" Cloud nodded, and smiled briefly, walking past the man. Before he passed him though, he spoke once more.

"I never thought I'd live to see the day when my once worst enemy would tell me to man up. Thanks." Sephiroth looked to him as if he were the strangest sight and phenomena he had ever seen before. He nodded briefly, but Cloud saw that his words phased him. For the moment, the unimaginable happened: Cloud had made Sephiroth feel good about himself.

"And I never thought I would tell the once biggest nuisance you're welcome." Cloud nodded, and despite everything they went through that day, their anger and bigotry, their accusations and confusion, they had made progress.

"Does this mean we're friends?" Sephiroth looked down to him, and Cloud had to admit he was surprised for saying such a thing. The words had just come out, and he saw Zack nod in his minds eye, telling him that's what words should have done: came naturally.

His eyes clouded over in thought, and he answered with a shrug. "Perhaps in a week we'll be acquaintances." Leave it to Sephiroth to be so technical. Cloud turned on his heel so that Sephiroth wouldn't see his smile.

"So be it."


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It seemed that everything the Goddess had spoken had happened. Cloud gained abilities, ones that he was in the process of understanding. Acceptance came when he took to the skies, and felt what a sheer thrill it was to fly. Everyone wanted it, and he had what they craved. But he still had no idea what to make of any of it. This situation was bizarre enough without throwing in his once worst enemy into the mix. But that was his life, and he was doing his best to cope with it.

All of this he thought of as he was taking his own watch of the night. Sephiroth was sound asleep already, breathing deeply in his slumber. Cloud listened to his intakes of breath, and recalled how he had reacted to the other man's touch. He knew now that it was because the nerve endings of his wings were sensitive, and they would have responded had anything brushed against them. He couldn't think of any other alternative, for he would have killed the notion before it had a chance to be alive.

Cloud took a deep breath, and looked to the skies, wondering when the golden wings would come, signaling dawn and the start of a new "day." It was strange how the days worked here, being no different from the night. He was glad that he had never had a fear of the dark, or else he would have been ten times more paranoid than he was.

He blinked when he saw a specter of white light fall from the heavens. Cloud stood up, and was about to go over to Sephiroth when he saw it was the same material Minerva had used to show him Sephiroth's memories, as well as his own. This was…important, and he knew it was specifically for him. Like Zack and Aeris's inner voice, telling him to do little things, helpful spirit guides.

The floating white orb came to him and Cloud sat down, wondering if he would see something he regretted. Another terrible memory, one that would make him hate Sephiroth once more? A painful remembrance, something better left forgotten? He would see. Cloud paused and reflected at how much he had gotten used to. If he was on Gaia, he would have high tailed it already, running away from the white glimmer, thinking it was evil. He had gotten used to this fantasy life, a life traveling with Sephiroth. Though, he knew he had a long way to go before any of this was normal.

"What are you showing me?" As if the orb heard him, the middle flashed cobalt and showed him familiar faces. His heart lurched when he saw Marlene's face, her big brown eyes filled with worry. She was talking to someone at a door, and Denzel appeared, pulling the person through the entrance. A flash of red hair was seen, as was a black suit. Reno, one of the Turks. Cloud started, and wondered why he was there of all people.

"Come on! Tifa's…sad. I know you can cheer her up!" Marlene grabbed a hold of the man's sleeve, and he nodded, protesting that he could walk on his own. Denzel also gripped his hand, and together, they pulled him into the front of the bar, where Tifa was obediently wiping the table, preparing for her customers. Cloud's heart sped up, for he knew this is what the Goddess meant when she said he could look in on his old life from time to time.

Tifa looked up, and a smile filled her features, one that would look normal, and almost radiant to someone who didn't know her as well as he did. She always showed the emotion that was expected, and nothing more.

"Reno, what are you up to?" Reno was practically thrown into one of the bar stools, and once he was seated, Denzel and Marlene ran off, about to eavesdrop from another place in the house no doubt.

He laughed nervously a few times, and ran a hand through the back of his ponytail. "I uh…heard about what happened. To Strife." He gave a low whistle. "I'm so sorry Tifa." Tifa stopped wiping the counter, and Cloud saw the pain on her face, one that was so clear, she may as well have been showing the man the bare image of her soul. But Reno had no knowledge of that, for he only knew so much about the woman.

"It's okay. It's been a month. I'm moving on." She managed a small smile, and she gestured to the window. "Besides, I'm in charge of building a monument to him by the ocean. He protected all of us…so he deserves to be remembered." Cloud felt as if Tifa were stroking the inner workings of his heart. She was building a monument…to him? That's right, for he was dead to her. Reno nodded, and he looked to the table, for once at a loss for words.

"I know but…don't you ever just wanna…I don't know…leave all of this behind?" Tifa looked to him, her eyes lighting up with a question.

"What…do you mean?" Reno leapt from his position and placed his hands on either side of the counter. He took the cloth from her, and with a move that said he practiced sports often, threw the rag into the soapy water. It splashed, and Tifa started.

"I mean, stopping your responsibilities. I know what it's like to be…really lost, you know? When the President died and his son took over his post…I didn't know what to think. I needed…fun." He laughed and began bobbing his head. The man looked ridiculous right then, and as jovial as he ever was. "So me and Rude began hitting the clubs to blow off steam. And let me tell ya, I was better within a month." Tifa opened her mouth, and then closed it. She appeared at a loss for words.

"Rude? I don't believe it." Reno nodded his head excitedly, the goggles he wore on his head slipping down a little.

"A regular party animal, that one. We flirted with the ladies, drank, and danced until they kicked us out. Then we did it all the time when we weren't working for James Shinra. It helped, forgetting our stress." He held out his hand, as if in his palm were a formal invitation. "Whattaya say, Tif? Wanna go to dancing?" Tifa's eyes were filled with shock, as if she could never believe such a thing, that he even spoke those words.

"Reno, I have customers." Reno sighed and walked over to where she had some paper and pens. He took a permanent marker and began hastily creating a crude sign. Tifa left her post behind the counter, and walked behind him, asking what he was doing. Reno grinned after a few moments, and revealed a sign that said "Closed until further notice."

"You're the boss, Tif. Take a personal day or ten. Gaia knows you deserve a little fun." She shook her head and dove for the sign, but Reno held it just above her reach. He was only a little taller than her, but the height worked against her. She cried out, asking for the sign. He stuck out his tongue and ran with tape to the door. Tifa was hot on his heels, and she about reached him before he managed to apply tape to the door. He threw the flipping sign that indicated the bar would be open in an hour into the trash can, which she promptly took out.

"Reno…thank you. But no. I…want this." Reno stopped taping the sign to the door, and turned around, crossing his arms and slouching against the door frame.

"Get upstairs. Pick out something that shows off a lot of skin. Then we'll go." Tifa sighed and shook her head, realizing then that this man was not about to take a refusal.

"Reno, please. Thank you…but people are counting on me." Reno's eyes twinkled, as if he were a psychologist who was just moments away from a break through from one of his patients.

"Are they? Tifa, anyone can serve drinks." She blinked once, and then twice. Cloud held his breath, for he knew that she was either livid, or about to burst into tears. Tifa, when under a lot of stress, either took it out through fighting, or weeping. Though, she rarely did it in front of people, for she was far too shy for that. But, his death had affected her personality, making her a sadder form of herself. One who is sad can't hide their tears.

She opened her mouth, and then shook her head. Tifa turned on her heel and began to walk back to her place behind the bar. Reno's eyes opened wide, as if he thought that maybe, he took things a little too far. Cloud snorted, for he really had. The man had no brain. He ran to keep up with her, and gripped her shoulder. Tifa whirled around, and Cloud saw the glitter of tears in her eyes, something he never would have expected.

"T-T-Tifa? Oh shit, I'm so sorry…." He trailed off when Tifa hit his arm with all the force of a baby kitten. He looked to her hand, and then her face. She began speaking then, with every ounce of pain she felt showing in her voice.

"Don't you get it? I can't have fun! I need…to serve drinks, to run this bar. That's moving on, right? Not giving up, even when my best friend is dead?" She wiped at her eyes hastily, as if she hated the feel of liquid spilling from her eyes, even when it was needed. "I can't leave." Reno shook her head and took her wrist, leading her to one of the tables in her bar. She let him sit her down, and he took the chair beside her, whirling it around to where he was straddling it backwards. He placed his head on his crossed arms, and shook his head.

"Tifa, stop. You have been doing so much for everyone. Take a break. No one will hold it against you." She shook her head, ever the stubborn one.

"I can't. Who will watch Denzel and Marlene?" As if on cue, both children ran into the bar area. Tifa gasped and wiped at her eyes, as if she were ashamed she had conveyed such emotion in front of the kids.

"Tifa…go out! I'm the man of the house now! Besides, Barrett's coming tonight. He will watch us, and the bar!" Denzel pulled on her arm, and Marlene positioned herself on the other side of her.

"Cloud…would want you to have fun." Everyone looked to Marlene, and Cloud was amazed. Children always had a way of saying the most prophetic of things. Tifa began to protest, and then she sighed, chuckling lightly.

"I guess I'm outnumbered huh?" Reno nodded his head, grinning from ear to ear.

"Yes, you are. Now get up there and put something on. We're leaving in fifteen." Tifa nodded, and Cloud saw a light in her eyes, as if from dead and charred embers, a spark revealed itself, a miracle. Cloud smiled as he watched her run up the stairs, the image following her excited features. Where there had once been pain, there was now…life.

Could Reno heal her? Cloud watched the image and the orb vanish, as if it were a puff of smoke that disintegrated with the dawn's light. He felt hopeful, as if no matter what happened, Tifa would be alright, along with his once family. Reno would have made a way better father figure, for he was always severely lacking in good qualities. If Tifa loved him, or fell for him, he would accept it willingly.

Everything would be alright he knew, from that brief on looking. All would be well, a forwards flight in his once life. Cloud lay on his back and watched as the golden wings of the dawn stretched across the sky, feeling contentment lay itself in his chest, one that would not be quick to leave. His doubt, for the moment, was gone.

He would leave this place. He would find a way to acceptance, and maybe…forgiveness. The blonde haired male looked to the silver haired man beside the fire, and he wondered if he could ever do such a thing, overlook all of the wrong he had done. That was forgiveness after all, forgetting the mistakes and past blood, and leaving it be, letting it rest.

He chuckled aloud, wondering how any of this had happened. He looked to his hands, as if he were seeing his skin for the first time in its blue hue, as if he had been dipped in crystal radiation. Cloud brought his wings forward, and touched the feathers and bone beneath them, marveling at them like he had not done before. All was changing, all was shifting.

Cloud heard Sephiroth stir and he woke up, stretching. He shook his head a few times, and when he saw Cloud's confused look, he tilted his head to the side, the way a sleepy child would do.

"What are you doing?" Cloud shook his head.

"Doesn't matter. Are you ready?" He nodded and both men got up, kicked the fire and went on their way. One more step to enlightenment, to forward flight.


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