Yuri was not an angry person by nature. Really, he wasn't. It was not his goddamn fault that the world was filled with so many legitimate reasons for rage.
"Yurio!"
Case in point.
"That's not my name!" the blond skater snarled.
He did not know why he bothered, of course. The only person on Earth who could shake the older Russian's infuriatingly cheerful calm was Katsudon, and Viktor's Japanese fiancé was smiling at Yuri apologetically from behind the silver-haired skater's shoulder as they all, unfortunately, reached the same hotel door in Barcelona.
"And get your own room," he growled, green eyes narrowing. "This one is mine."
"Ours," Viktor said sweetly. "You're underage-"
"I'm sixteen!"
"-and so it's either us, or Yakov and Lilia." Viktor did not wait for a reply, pushing past the irate blond, key card in hand.
Yuuri rested a hand on the younger Yuri's shoulder, nudging him to follow the taller man as Viktor opened the hotel door and strode inside. "You can have the first shower," the Japanese skater said in English, voice conciliatory.
"Yeah, great," Yuri growled in the same language, snapping his shoulder away from Katsudon's touch. But he was secretly mollified. Somewhat. Viktor, the fucking primadonna, had used up all the hot water during more than one competition over the years, so getting to take a shower first was a way bigger win than it might appear on the surface.
The Russian teen stalked into the room, heaving his tiger stripe skate bag and cheetah emblazoned suitcase onto one of the beds and then flopping onto the other bed before anyone could stop him. He slipped off his leopard print converses and tossed them into the corner. "I want to order in."
"Not until after the competition," Viktor singsonged, pushing open the bathroom door.
Yuri snapped upright and sprang from the bed with all the power normally reserved for his quad sals, but it was too late. Humming to himself, Viktor closed the door in the sixteen-year old's face.
"Goddamn it!" Yuri snarled in Russian, giving the door a kick. Inside, Viktor turned on the shower.
Yuuri fixed the younger skater with that apologetic smile again. "Want to go visit the pool?" He glanced fondly at the closed door, from which Viktor's humming voice rose both louder and higher. And more and more off key. "He will be a while."
Yuri sank back onto the bed, flopping onto his belly with a huff. "No, I'm taking a nap," he growled, pulling his phone from his hoodie pocket.
And he would sleep. After he burned the so-called "Russian Legend" on Twitter.
"Enjoy your lame win, Nikiforov," he muttered, fingers dancing over the touchscreen like his skates over the ice. He ignored Yuuri as the Japanese skater carefully moved Yuri's things to the ground and sat on the other bed to start untying his shoes. "It'll be your only victory this Grand Prix Final." He flicked a glance at Yuuri. "For either of you."
In the bathroom, the Russian figure skating legend stopped humming and started singing beneath the hiss of the shower.
Cloud was not a weakling in truth. Really, he wasn't. It was not his fault that he mysteriously lost his voice every time General Sephiroth spoke to him. Or so much as flicked green, cat-slitted eyes in his direction. Both of which he was doing now.
"So, how does it feel to be home after all this time?" the silver-haired SOLDIER General asked the infantryman they walked toward the inn in Nibelheim, where they had been assigned to investigate monster incursions near the mountainous region's mako reactor. "I have no hometown; I wouldn't know."
Cloud managed to swallow the knot that had lodged itself in his suddenly dry throat and would certainly have offered an insightful, but also cool and casual reply.
That is, if Zack had not butted in.
"Uh, what about family?" the black-haired SOLDIER first class asked.
Zack may have been his superior officer, but that didn't stop Cloud from shooting his friend a glare. Which Zack utterly missed, of course, as Cloud's face was currently covered by what had to be the hottest regulation helmet on Gaia. He could feel the sweat streaming down his face and dampening the kerchief around his neck.
Sephiroth, apparently not bothered by Zack's rather rude interruption, replied, "My mother's name is Jenova. She died shortly after I was born. My father-" He laughed bitterly, rubbing his forehead. "Why am I talking about this?" He shook his head and turned back toward the inn. "Come on. Let's go," he said, once again the General, all business.
Cloud sighed, following in his wake and berating himself internally. He'd had a chance to talk to Sephiroth, to have a real conversation with the man whose fighting prowess and heroism had inspired him to pursue a career in Shinra Power Company and try to prove himself worthy of becoming a mako-enhanced SOLDIER, and he'd blown it.
"Are you one of the SOLDIER people who've come to investigate?"
Cloud stiffened in shock at the familiar voice, and once again could not have uttered a word to save his life.
Fortunately for him, Tifa, his childhood friend, was not talking to him but to Zack.
Of course, Cloud thought bitterly as his black-haired friend answered in the affirmative, grateful for the helmet hiding his own face. He was nowhere near ready to talk to her. You're not a SOLDIER, idiot. You had your chance and you messed it up. You're a failure.
"Are there a lot of soldier first classes?" Tifa asked.
"Nope, we're a small, elite group," Zack said proudly.
She frowned. "They only sent two?"
The black-haired soldier nodded. "Yeah, me and Sephiroth."
Cloud grimaced, standing stiffly at attention. What was he, invisible? He may not have been a SOLDIER, not even a third class, but still, Shinra had sent him on this mission too, and two other infantrymen as well.
But at least Tifa wouldn't know he was here. He wouldn't be able to bear to see the look on her face if she saw him in his regulation infantry uniform instead of SOLDIER black, like Zack and the other first classes.
His attention returned to Tifa as his childhood friend murmured lowly in disappointment and ran off.
Zack watched her go. "Weird girl."
Inside, Cloud cringed. She wasn't weird. She was just unhappy. He'd promised to become a SOLDIER and return home to Nibelheim to help her if the town was ever in trouble, and now there were monsters coming down from the mountains and, as far as she knew, he wasn't here. Of course, he had come, but not as Zack's equal, capable of helping defend the town. He'd let Tifa down.
"We depart for the reactor at dawn," Sephiroth said. "Make sure to get plenty of sleep. Only one of you needs to keep watch. Make sure you get some rest as well."
Cloud nodded, eager to find his bed after the long and difficult trip to Nibelheim, but as he approached the inn door, Sephiroth paused.
Cloud froze, mouth instantly going dry. Oh Gaia, he's looking at me.
"Ah, that's right," his commanding officer said. "You have permission to go visit family and friends, if you so wish."
The General took his leave, and Zack turned to Cloud. "Nibelheim, huh?" he asked slowly. His tone was knowing. "Why are you wearing the mask?"
Cloud knew better than to hope that his friend would think that the visor was regulation. This wasn't their first mission together, and while there were certainly dragons in the area-one had attacked their transport truck-it wasn't like the enemy was descending from the sky this instant. There was no need for a helmet. And Zack knew it.
"It's... personal" the sixteen-year-old infantryman said after a moment.
"Weirdo."
Cloud sighed. He was. He really was. A weirdo, and a weakling, and a failure.
But though he was all those things, but he was going to at least be well rested tomorrow and do his duty. "I'm going to get some sleep," he declared, striding purposefully into the inn. "You rooming with me?"
"You bet, buddy!" Zack said, all eager bounce and puppy energy.
And he called Cloud the weirdo.
Viktor may have managed to hog all the hot water the night before, but Yuri sure as hell wasn't going to let the self-absorbed, absent-minded dinosaur of a skater get in there first the next morning as well.
And so it was that he found himself cursing unhappily into his pillow as the alarm clock chiming through his cell phone ear buds woke him at four in the morning.
He may have missed out on a couple hours of sleep, sure. But for perhaps the first time in all of his years of being stuck rooming with Viktor during competitions, he was able to enjoy a deliciously hot shower without worrying that it might suddenly run cold, and could go through the daily ritual of straightening his obnoxiously gravity-defiant hair in peace and quiet.
Chin length golden locks tamed at last, he yanked his black hoodie over his head and stalked toward the hotel door with a sly glance over his shoulder at Yuuri and Viktor, who were snoring away in their bed. They wouldn't be up for another two hours at least. Plenty of time for him to have a nice leisurely jog around Barcelona, music blasting in his ears without Lilia around to scold him about his hearing, before anyone realized he was unsupervised and at large in a foreign city.
Of course, he should have remembered his fans.
Sometimes, though he'd never admit it out loud, he was rather proud of the feral bastards, with their ridiculous cat ears and obsession with hunting him down like a pack of hungry tigers. But that was when he was dealing with the Yuri's Angels from the privacy-and safety-of home, perhaps watching them throw down for him on Twitter or make the evening news for attacking some hockey fan in a sports bar brawl over control of the television. He appreciated them as true badasses then. From a distance.
But when he spotted a pack of them fucking camping out across the street from his hotel, in tiger stripe tents no less, all he felt was fear. Especially as his blue-green eyes met the bleary gaze of their goddamn guard over the rim of the Japanese-looking girl's streaming thermos of coffee or tea or whatever the hell half-rabid cheetah women drank at five in the morning.
Good God, could that chick run. No sooner had their eyes met, she was tossing that thermos aside with a gleeful shout to wake her fellow stalkers and springing from her lawn chair after him.
He was a world class athlete and, arguably, the best male figure skater in the world. Running was a regular part of his training. There was no way some random fan should have been able to keep up with him, and yet within seconds, she was actually gaining on him.
There was no Otabek and his motorcycle to rescue him this year. There was only a pack of guys and girls in tiger print and leopard ears rapidly closing the distance between them, cameras flashing and sharpies extended like claws. Cheetah Woman was in the lead, but the others were unreasonably fast too.
God, had an entire track team joined Yuri's Angels together? What the actual fuck?
He barely had time to contemplate the question and his possible fate before he darted into the first alley he saw and spotted a low fence. Without thinking, he vaulted over it, one hand gripping the bar as he threw his legs and entire body up and over.
He realized his mistake an instant later as his eyes settled on the street below him. Way more below him than he'd expected, the fence apparently more like a railing to protect way clumsier people than him from doing exactly what he was doing and falling into a fucking city street at five in the morning less than four days before he was supposed to skate in the Grand Prix Final.
He was lucky he was last year's gold medalist and used to landing crazy jumps. But it was one thing to land that kind of jump on ice in figure skates like he'd done literally thousands of times before, and quite another to land on pavement in a pair of converses. Especially while doing his best to come down between the two cars parked on the side of the street below him and not on the hood of one or back windshield of the other.
Fortunately, he managed to land mostly on both feet on the ground between them. Unfortunately, mostly on two feet wasn't good enough, as his right ankle turned. Years of training helped him twist sideways to check his momentum and prevent his full weight from coming down wrong on the joint, which was good. But it also swung his weight hard the other direction, which wasn't so good.
As the side of his head slammed into the wall, the loud crack of skull meeting brick resounded loudly in the morning air. Blinding white light flared through his vision as he bounced off the hard surface and folded to his knees, the pain barely registering as white faded rapidly into black and he collapsed onto his back on the pavement.
The last things he saw, dimly, were the pack of bloodthirsty fans running past the alleyway above, thankfully oblivious to his mortifying plight below. All but one, that was.
A familiar form broke away from the rest, dark eyes glinting and looking right at him before Cheetah Woman was hopping the railing with a nimbleness that would have put him to shame if he'd been able to summon enough brains to care and landing in a low crouch that would have left him terrified if he hadn't promptly lost consciousness.
He must not have been out for long, because suddenly she was kneeling at his side. "Yurio!"
Yuri-goddammit, his name was Yuri-couldn't manage to remember a single word in Japanese. So instead he muttered in Russian, in as surly a voice as he could manage, "Fuck... you." He did not whimper out the words, damn it! There was no way he'd willingly show any weakness in front of a predator.
"God, I'm so sorry!" she said. Her voice was too loud. "The others are gone now, though." She smiled proudly. "I outran them."
"Good... for you," he muttered, only belatedly realizing she was speaking Russian with a native accent despite her Japanese appearance and use of the hated nickname Yuuri's sister had dubbed him with.
She frowned, brow furrowing. "Alright, we should get you back to your hotel before the others think to head that way." And then she was pulling his arm carefully over her shoulder and levering him to his feet with surprising strength for someone so petite.
Yuri lost track of what, exactly, came next. Later, he would have disjointed memories of blinding pain in his head, puking in an intersection all over his leopard print converses, and weaving madly on his feet despite the supportive arm around his waist and the shoulder he was leaning on, as though he was a goddamn drunk toddler instead of last year's Grand Prix Final gold medalist.
Eventually he felt his back come to rest against something, and through the ruining ringing in his ears heard the girl say something about "hotel" and "key card".
"H-hey," he complained weakly, slapping at her hand as she pawed at his hoodie pockets. What, was she a thief as well as a stalker and Olympic track star? "G'off."
"Here," she said, slapping something cool and smooth into one of his hands and then something smaller into the other.
He squinted down at them, relieved that his vision was starting to clear now that they were no longer moving. He glanced up from his cell phone and key card to the door of the building they were leaning against.
They were back at the hotel.
His eyes darted nervously across the street, but the Cheetah Pack camp was still deserted. Thank God.
Fingers snapped in front of his face. "Earth to Yurio!"
"That's not my name!" he snarled, pushing her hand away. Fury burned the remaining fog from his vision and mind.
She pointed at the doors. "Can you get the rest of the way back on your own?" Dark brown eyes darted over her shoulder. "I hear them coming."
Sure enough, footsteps were pounding on the pavement. Alarmed, Yuri jerked away from the wall and sprang for the door, weaving on his feet but managing to make it inside just as the first of his rabid fans rounded the corner, screaming in delight and pointing as he spotted the dazed and terrified skater.
"It was awesome meeting you!" the girl called after him. "I'm Tiffany, by the way. Call me!"
And the doors slid shut.
Yuri paused in the lobby, panting and looking from the alarmed security guard at the door, who moved quickly to step outside and intercept the crowd, to the disapproving woman behind the front desk, who took in his vomit-splattered shoes and swaying stance with a scowl. He wouldn't be the first skater to party hard before buckling down for a competition.
Glaring and just now truly noticing the soreness in his knees and right ankle against the sickening agony of his headache, Yuri hobbled carefully toward the elevator and jabbed the blurry "up" button.
Creeping back into the blessedly darkened hotel room five minutes later, he had never been so happy to hear Viktor's and Yuuri's snoring duet. There was no way he felt like trying to explain anything to the two morons yet, or really doing anything other than sleep.
Which he wasted no time doing, all but collapsing dizzily into bed.
He had just enough time to place his spinning, aching skull on his pillow and drag his blankets up over himself before he was out again like a light.
Zack may have been a mako infused SOLDIER first class, able to get by on significantly less sleep than an un-enhanced human, but despite his best efforts, Cloud certainly was not. Well rested or not, 0400 came far too early for his liking, and he was still trying to wake fully by the time he and the others gathered at dawn.
Cloud was so busy glaring blearily at Zack's faintly glowing blue eyes from behind his helmet that he nearly missed their surprise guest as they approached the gates of the mansion at the base of the mountain in which Shinra's Nibelheim reactor was situated. Zack, however, spotted her immediately.
"Tifa! You're our guide?" His voice was not happy.
Cloud started, glancing the way Zack was looking, and sure enough, there she was. His childhood friend had even brought a cameraman, no doubt to snap a few photos for use in her father's re-election campaign. Cloud could see the headline now. "Monsters in the mountains: Mayor Lockhart demands Shinra Power Company clean up its mess".
He watched in growing pleasure and dismay as Tifa posed for a few photos with Zack and Sephiroth and convinced the General to let her be their guide to the reactor. While it was good to see her again and spend time with her-even if she didn't notice him and wouldn't have known who the helmeted infantry grunt was even if she had-he couldn't help but share Zack's concerns. Tifa was every bit as much a wilderness expert as anyone else in Nibelheim, and a gifted martial artist besides. But if she and the other townspeople had been able to safely deal with the monster threat on their own, her father would not have called in Shinra, let alone two SOLDIER firsts and infantry support. Cloud had a strong suspicion that her father had no idea she was here. After all, it wasn't like Sephiroth would have asked the mayor to provide a local guide. The General had brought his own.
Cloud.
But there wasn't really anything he could do about it. Not without revealing himself and possibly invoking Tifa's formidable wrath for interfering. And not without arguing against Sephiroth's instructions after the General approved her and her publicity man to accompany them. Maybe he wanted the good publicity too?
Cloud broke away from his sleepy, troubled musings as Sephiroth gave the order to move out, and cursed himself internally. He was supposed to be paying attention, not wool gathering. Why couldn't he do anything right?
Over the next several hours, they proceeded up the mountain road to the reactor, encountering glowing blue-green mako springs and pumps along the way, as well as dragons and other monsters. In truth, there wasn't terribly much for Cloud to do other than stay out of the way, but as always, it was amazing to see Zack and Sephiroth in action. They cut down each monster with a speed, grace, and power that would have been chilling if it had not been so beautiful. Like they were dancing with blades, Zack's heavy buster sword darting and flying through each battle with nearly the finesse of Sephiroth's long and lightweight katana, Masamune, though the younger SOLDIER refrained from using it to actually slice anything, preferring instead to bludgeon his foes.
"Stay back," his friend cautioned as they reached the reactor and the last beast fell beneath his blade. "It's just knocked out. It could wake up and stay chowing down on you!"
Cloud rolled his eyes, pushing away the ache of yearning he always felt whenever he watched Zack and especially Sephiroth fight. Once, that burning heaviness in his gut had been drive and inspiration. Now it was only jealousy and shame. He would never be a SOLDIER. He'd tried and failed to get through the cadet program. He was weak, a nobody. Just a faceless infantry grunt even his best friend didn't recognize or even notice. And why would she?
As they began to climb the stairs to the reactor's reinforced doorway, Tifa moved to follow, exclaiming, "I want to go inside and look, too!"
Cloud frowned, but thankfully Sephiroth denied her request this time. "This is a top-secret facility," the silver-haired General explained, shaking his head. "Non-Shinra personnel are not permitted inside."
"But...!" she protested.
Cloud hid a small smile. She really did not like it when she didn't get her way. It was bratty. And kind of cute.
His smile soon turned to a frown as Sephiroth turned to him. "Keep the young lady safe."
"Wha-" Cloud sputtered, but thankfully his superior officer either didn't hear his protest, or more likely chose not to notice. "Great," he muttered under his breath, stepping in Tifa's way and motioning for her to halt as, never one to take "no" for an answer, she tried to follow the pair of SOLDIERs as they proceeded up the stairs and went inside.
He shook his head sternly at her as she glared at the closing doors, then at him, and snorted when she stomped her foot and turned her back on him, clearly pissed. Let her be pissed. He was pissed too. Normally he would be thrilled, proud even, to have General Sephiroth tell him to protect Tifa, but Gaia! He would be in there with Zack and Sephiroth, not stuck out here with Tifa, if it weren't for her inviting herself along!
Several minutes passed in frosty silence as Tifa sulked and Cloud... well, he did not sulk, certainly. His anger was justified.
"Say," Tifa said, whirling around so quickly that Cloud's fellow infantrymen twitched in surprise, fingers tightening on their rifles. "How well do you two know the Shinra SOLDIERs?"
Grey Sanders shrugged, watchful hazel eyes still fixed on their surroundings, scanning dutifully for threats. "We work in the same complex and are sometimes assigned to work together. I know a few of 'em well enough." He shrugged.
"Not personally though, really," Eli Marshal added, shifting his rifle from hand to hand as he often did when bored. It was a bad habit their drill sergeant had never been able to beat out of him. "They're... different. Like, really different. Most keep to themselves. Except Fair. Zack. He likes everyone. Doesn't care about rank."
Cloud chuckled to himself. Zack cared. He definitely cared, when it came to his relatively new status as a First. But it was true he didn't care about others' ranks or affiliations. SOLDIER. Infantry. Even Turk. He had friends everywhere.
His quiet laugh drew Tifa's attention. "How about you?"
"Me?" he asked, forgetting briefly that he was trying not to draw her attention to him.
Thankfully, she didn't seem to recognize his voice. "Do you know anyone in SOLDIER?" He shrugged and nodded. Her face brightened. "You seem to be friends with that First. Zack? Do you happen to know someone named Cloud Strife? He went to Midgar to join SOLDIER not too long ago."
Oh Gaia.
"Strife? Strife is-" Eli cut himself off at Cloud's stern glare. "He... uh..."
"We don't know anyone by that name," Grey said coolly, still not looking away from the trees except to cast a quick glance at Cloud out of the corner of his eye. The younger infantryman breathed a sigh of relief. They'd have questions later, he was sure, but they had his back.
"Oh," Tifa said, wilting. "Well if you ever run into him, will you tell him-"
They had almost no warning at all, such was the speed and power of a fully enhanced SOLDIER First, let alone one of the Three. The only sign that anything was awry was the sudden opening of the reactor door, far earlier than they would have expected Zack and Sephiroth to return from inspecting reactor to locate the suspected malfunction that had led to the monster outbreak in Nibelheim.
But it was an entirely different SOLDIER first class who emerged, expertly taking in the scene in a single contemptuous glance before lifting his crimson rapier before his face and running his fingers along the blade. Crimson energy crackled along the steel, igniting glyphs.
"Oh Gaia, that's-" Eli gasped, rifle snapping up as he sighted the winged man in his scope.
"Genesis!" Cloud confirmed grimly, stepping in front of Tifa as the red-haired deserter, apparently not dead after all despite having fallen into the core of the mako reactor in Modeoheim, swept the blade toward them.
From within the reactor, he barely heard Zack's labored voice shout, "No, stop!" before the fireball exploded in his face.
Cloud's head snapped back with the devastating blow as fire flared crimson through the visor of his helmet. His legs gave out and he crumpled to his knees in shock and pain and then, strength and consciousness alike fleeing, abruptly felt his whole body fall limp and could not stop himself from toppling bonelessly sideways and onto his back.
As everything rapidly grew shadowed around him and a roar grew in his ears, he dimly saw Tifa, Eli, and Grey fall into fighting stances above him. And then blackness swallowed him whole.
When he came to again, he knew that the battle must have gone in their favor, because... well, because he returned to consciousness at all, frankly. Not many who passed out the moment battle commenced could claim the same.
His eyes cracked open slightly, and through his lashes he could just make out Tifa kneeling at his side. Her face was worried, and confused, and he realized that he was still wearing his helmet. A good thing too, because it felt like his brain would dribble out of his skull without it.
"He tried to protect me," she told a blurry but still clearly exhausted figure in black swimming at the edge of his vision.
"I know," Zack said lowly through the white noise ringing in his ears. "Tifa, stay close to me."
Cloud groaned miserably as she pulled his arm over her shoulder and maneuvered him carefully to his feet.
With their first step, he lost time, vision black once more, ears ringing madly, and belly churning as his friends guided him somewhere his body really, really did not want to go.
But eventually the sense of motion stopped. Voices warbled in his ears again as though through water as his head cleared a tiny bit, and he felt a wooden wall against his back and did his best to lean against it and remain standing, rather than collapsing.
It took a heroic amount of effort, and after a time he wasn't really even sure if he was successful or not, because when he was next aware, he found himself lying on a mattress back at the inn with Zack sitting on the bed next to his own, watching over him as he apparently slowly regained consciousness.
His helmet had been removed and, though slightly dizzy and more than a little exhausted, he found himself able to sit up without too much trouble. His friend must have healed him.
Cloud rested his head on his knees with a tired groan.
"Tifa's safe," Zack murmured immediately. "Don't worry."
Cloud glanced over at his friend, swallowing miserably as the shame crashed over him anew. "If only I were SOLDIER," he said, the memory of how quickly and easily Genesis had taken him out replaying sickeningly in his memory.
Zack didn't respond, and a long moment passed.
Cloud glanced at him. Zack?"
"SOLDIER is like a den of monsters," the First said lowly. "Don't go inside."
Realizing he was clearly missing something, Cloud asked, "What happened?" His memory of almost everything after Genesis's attack felt like a black hole. And what had Zack and Sephiroth seen inside the reactor?
For a moment, Zack looked utterly dejected and sighed. "I don't know, man. I thought I knew, but…"
Cloud snorted internally. That was classic Zack for "it's confidential and confusing, so I don't even know what to say". Followed by a quick change of subject, he was sure-
The First flopped backward onto his bed with a long sigh. "By the way, do you know Tifa?"
Ah, there it was.
Groaning internally, Cloud turned away, clasping his knees in embarrassment. "Sort of."
"Talked to her?"
Gaia, he wanted to discuss this even less than Zack wanted to talk about whatever had happened at the reactor to leave them both alive but his friend so down. "No."
At that, Zack sat up slowly, all attention suddenly on him. Great. "I'm sensing some issues here," he said, voice low and concerned. "Shouldn't you do something?"
Cloud wilted, because yes, he should, but Gaia knew he'd fail at it like everything else.
"I'm one to talk," Zack said quietly after a moment. He rose and walked toward his buster sword, which was propped up on the table opposite their beds. "I'm with SOLDIER, so fighting's all I do. Sorting things out is someone else's job. What's going on? Who's the enemy? It makes no difference to me!"
Cloud watched him, blue eyes widening in alarm as the First's voice rose, and his sword with it, lifted high over his head. Cloud had rarely seen his friend so worked up. The normally cheerful and laid-back SOLDIER was gritting his teeth and breathing hard, clearly struggling to get his emotions under control as he brought the sword in front of him and rested his forehead on the blade, shoulders heaving.
"Hey, Zack?" he asked tentatively, hoping to give the black-haired man something new to think about. The First liked to talk about the buster sword and the man who'd given it to him, his recently killed mentor, Angeal. "You know, I've never seen you use that."
At his words, Zack looked thoughtful, lifting the sword to peer at it "This is a symbol of my dreams and honor," he said slowly. "No, it's more. That's right, I had almost forgotten. Thank you, Cloud."
Cloud blinked, even more confused now than before. Maybe he wasn't completely healed yet from his head injury after all, because nothing Zack had just said made any sense to him. "Huh?"
Zack, snapping back to his energetic self again so quickly that it almost made Cloud dizzy, put the sword down and said enthusiastically, "Right!" He walked to the side of his bed, swinging his arms and dipping in two quick squats before hopping onto the mattress and stretching out on his back. "I'm gonna crash. Night!"
And with that, he threw his arms out to the sides and fell instantly asleep, leaving Cloud staring at him in utter confusion.
What on Gaia had *happened* back at the reactor?
Cloud sighed, laying down much more gingerly than his friend, fatigue tugging at him the way it sometimes did after an intense healing. He might as well get some shut eye, too. He certainly wasn't going to get anything more out of Zack tonight, and who knew what the next day would bring? He didn't even know how their mission had gone, but there was little he could do about it now, and his body was clearly still recovering, achy and exhausted. He closed his eyes and fell asleep almost as fast as his superior officer and friend.
Strands of awareness and intention threaded through the multiverse, seeing, seeking.
She could not sense the other worlds in her own universe, though the life her hostworld bore spoke of other planets now and again, so she knew that they were there, and possibly other beings like herself as well. But if there were other lifestreams on other hostworlds, she could not feel them, could not commune with them as she could feel and commune with her many sisters, each one dwelling in a discrete universe that bore the local version of their hostworld.
Her consciousness brushed over her many sisters, one after another, each as unique as the universe that bore her, until she found one who seemed to be a good candidate. Threatened, but strong. Dying, but still so full of life. In grave danger, but still hopeful. She was perfect.
"Sister?" the one called Aether communed across space and time.
Her sister, Minerva, responded almost immediately, already sampling her intentions, her hope. Their hope and salvation now, as Minerva's consent echoed back to Aether, for they were both so threatened, and both so strong. A good match. Perfect.
"Oh, yes," Minerva agreed.