Author's Notes: There is a plot to this, though whether it becomes apparent or not yet . . . I don't know. But yes, I do have meaning with this. As of right now, there's no real warnings. Later there will be yaoi, though. I shall warn you of that now. Don't like, don't read. Plain and simple. Oh yeah. Sorry this is so short.

The Burning Puzzle
"With Matches"
By: Locked

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"Love is a fire.
But whether it is going to warm your heart or burn down your house,
you can never tell."
Joan Crawford

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A blazing fire of undying passion – everyone wants it, but not everyone can have it. Finding someone, anyone who will fit you like two halves of a whole puzzle is not an easy task. You may find someone who is almost perfect, someone who fits you so well that you do not notice the little bit of them that is a tad too off to be your complete match.

80 percent of married couples are not perfect matches.

The glowing blue irises that scanned the page with narrowed pupils radiated annoyance; statistics were not of his concern. With a heaved sigh that passed through his teeth in a hiss, a pale hand crumpled the magazine and tossed it across the room. How could anyone possibly read things like that? Not only was it not hopeful, but it also made you start analyzing things you regularly do not care about, such as how well couples matched. Why would anyone want to do that?

"What's wrong?" came a feminine voice from somewhere near the frustrated man.

He glanced upwards, looking across the shadowed room at a young woman who sat cross-legged with a look of concern in her eyes. The woman always did that when he found himself displaying slightly unfamiliar behavior. As kind as the concern was, it was unnecessary. A pale hand was lifted into blonde locks of hair, stroking the strands gently as an obsessive habit. "Nothing."

"You can tell me," the woman offered, looking at the blonde expectantly. Her long brown bangs hung beside her face, curving around her cheeks as emphasis on her features, before they curled and passed her shoulders. The blonde noted that it made her look more innocent and understanding then it normally did.

"Nothing's wrong, Aerith. Please. . . ." He knew that she meant well, but he would not admit to her what was on his mind. Not only would that go against his own well-being, it would place another burden on his friend. With the feeling of needing to go home fresh on everyone's minds, there was no reason to simply add to it.

"If you ever want to talk about it, I'll be here." Her gentle voice reached his ears; soft, steady, and very melodic.

He sighed as a response and stood up, adjusting the large scarlet scarf around his neck. His eyes traveled around the room, taking in the scene piece by piece. The room was not lit well, causing him to have to strain his dilated pupils in order to see five feet in front of him. The fact that there was no light in the room was due to the simple reason that the blonde was lacking any type of currency to pay for electricity; this was a result of not being in the town very long. He had just recently arrived in Traverse Town, and he had yet to get a job of any kind. He managed to survive in his rinky-dink apartment without money, though. Looking to Aerith sitting in the squishy red chair, he offered her a short smile. It was an attempt to look thankful for her concern, but a feeble attempt it was. It did not take a genius to see through the man's broken expression. The concern in her eyes only grew more, and the blonde found himself at a loss.

"Cloud," she started warily, "please talk to me." It was no use, however. She knew that the man was stubborn, and her old friend would not just start talking unless he truly wanted to. Receiving a shrug as an answer, she stood up as well. A good three or four inches shorter than the man, she did her best to look big by stepping over to him and pointing a finger in his face. "I expect to know what's wrong at some point. Let me know, all right? Don't just mope around in here. . . ." Stepping back and crossing her arms, she looked to him with a stern gaze, which he immediately denied by turning his head away. "Fine, Cloud. I'm just going to go." And without looking back, Aerith left the room with the turn of a doorknob, and was gone from the apartment in a matter of seconds.

Cloud watched her go, no look of guilt even tinting his features. He needed no pity, so he would not speak of what plagued his mind. Bring him to me. You've gotten your half of the deal, and you signed a contract, or should I refresh your memory?Those words were still fresh in his mind, digging into the very depths of him. What have I done?

He brought the darkness to his life in order to find someone from his past, for he feared that she was dead. Now he knew the truth, however. He was brought to the town in which she resided by Hades, and after a week of lounging around, he was starting to doubt how much he truly loved her. Aerith and you aren't meant to be. It was obvious before, so why did you block it out? He could not pinpoint what it was exactly that was telling him that Aerith and he were not supposed to be together, but he knew his feelings for her had died into nothing more than a strong friendship. True love never was supposed to die, so perhaps that was his clue.

The scattered thoughts made him shiver, and he felt a need for fresh air. He went to his balcony, sliding opened the glass door and stepping outside. He had a nice view of the second district from the eighth floor of his building - the apartment building that loomed over the square with an almost menacing air. His lips twitched upwards as he felt the gentle breeze, something he had been dying for.

"Do you see him?"

"No." Cloud let his eyes wander to the ground below, analyzing each person. He was on the hunt for one specific person, someone he met through Aerith once before. That person was who he was supposed to coax over to the darkness. It was his job, and his alone.

"Well, he has to be here somewhere. I mean, he doesn't have wings. He can't just fly away."

The sarcasm he was receiving bit at his nerves, and Cloud had to grimace. "He has working legs."

"And he can travel from world to world with his working legs?" There was a mocking bout of laughter, "I don't think so!"

He glared at the pale blue hand that rested on his shoulder, the spindly digits gripping him forcefully. He disliked his 'boss', and he had disliked him from the start. But this other had promised to help him find his light in return for his soul, and it really did not seem like much at the time. Cloud regretted the day with pure disdain.

"You see, people are like ants. They busy themselves all day, and scurry away as fast as they can when they're in danger. But in the end, they get squished. You are the shoe, and you're going to squish him. Do I make myself clear?"

"Whatever," Cloud answered, his eyes shifting to glare at the ground below. He did not know this man, so why should he care whether or not he joined the darkness? Was he that amazing that he was needed on this side? It seemed completely idiotic to the blonde, and he doubted that he would ever change his view on the situation.

The grip on his shoulder tightened, and Cloud winced as the sharp fingers dug into his skin. "I helped you!" was yelled into his ear, and he could feel the heat of the flames burn off of the blue skin near him. Cloud found himself shaking at the pressure in which was being shot through the hold on him. "I know. I know! And I'm helping you too!" The grip relaxed at his proclamation, and the hand withdrew from him. He was thankful that the hold was released, and he decided to make sure his shoulder still as functional by rolling it around. Finding no damage beside searing pain, he brought his attention back to the crowd of people. There he focused on one figure, following it along the cobblestone.

"There he is."

"I see him."

"Go and get him. . . ."

Author's Notes: Incase you didn't catch that, Cloud is working for Hades still. You can't just stop working for him. Just look at Meg - Hercules had to become a god to make that better. They're plotting to drag -someone- over to the "dark side". Who could it be? Really, it isn't a trick question. Review, please.