Dust Redux
Prologue
A rewrite of Dust and Bones

Rating: R
Pairing: ZackSephiroth, CloudSephiroth

Like BIG FAT YAOI WARNING over here, yo!

A/N: This is what happens, when you watched Advent Children a grand total of 3 times and counting. Squealed when Sephiroth appears. Swooned over zack's voice (SUZUKEN!) and then remember a certain fic that you've not touched for years. I sincerely hope my writing has improved over the past 3 years though.

Thank you to all those who reviewed, because I'm totally in love with you guys. I was reading all the reviews that I've gotten for DnB, and while some of them hurt (the mindless flaming, usually), I really appreciate the others! Especially those who bothered to type a REALLY long review just to tell me how I can improve on it. RL has been a bitch, but I'll try to work on this fic a little more. Thank you guys so, so much.

Warning: YAOI. And consider it AU.

This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe on the rights of SquareEnix, and their associates.


/"Hurry up and perfect that move, Zack."/

The voice was soft, unsteady, completely uncharacteristic of the one who spoke it. Zack paused in his practice, and turned to give a slight smile at his best friend. Sometimes he wonder what Sephiroth was thinking, sitting alone on the stone steps at the far end of the hall, burying his face in the back of his palms. Sometimes he decided that perhaps he did not want to know at all. Selfishly, he did not want to have any knowledge of the madness that was slowly taking over his friend.

/They say ignorance is bliss. How true was that, he thought.

The Omnislash. Sephiroth made him practise it over and over again, with the focus and urgency of a man gone insane. He saw the potential in it, he said. The move, if perfected, would be strong enough even to kill him.

And Sephiroth needed that. The assurance that somebody would have the ability to end it all. If he had to.

/I promise you, Seph./

/I'll be the one who'd keep you sane./

The voices. That was all he ever hear sometimes. Alone in the dark, mud and dirt clinging onto his clothes like a parasite, the only companionship he ever got was the small but shrill female voice in his head. Talking to him, whispering to him, telling him stories and tales and other make-believes. Sometimes he welcomed that voice. It was the only thing that kept the loneliness at bay. He would smile, enjoying the sensation of the hot water running down his face, his shoulders, and the long silver hair that was his only vanity, as that voice caressed his thoughts like a siren. It was during those times that he would growl in frustration when a certain dark haired man entered his room like an uninvited guest, with a voice that was too loud and a grin that was too wide. It was much, much later that he realized that this man kept something else away.

Lunacy.

But there was only silence now. Occasionally, someone would penetrate that silence with a soft touch to his face, telling him that things would be alright. She said her name was Aeris.

He told her to go away.

Her voice sounded too much like another he knew. That voice had promised him everything and anything he wanted. That voice had given him a reason for the isolation, the pain and all that torture he had gone through his entire life. That voice made him believe that maybe, just maybe, he was someone special.

This voice promised nothing. Nothing but more pain, more hurt, more isolation. Nothing he hadn't deserved, but everything he must accept, live with, and make amends for.

He just wanted to sleep on. Dream on. And relive the memories of an awkwardly balanced sword sliding effortlessly into human flesh. That would be his punishment.

He could apologize. But sin could not be forgiven.

/I'm sorry, Zack./