Summary: With the threat to the world gone, and feeling forgiven by Aerith, Cloud thought to himself, 'I should be at peace.' That wasn't the case. Regrets of never saying I love you enough to his mother, to killing the civilians during AVALANCHE's raids, to Zack's sacrifice, brought upon a pressure like cinder blocks being laid on him in a painstaking slow pace. If he had been asked what his dying wish was, he would respond with, "I want to save everyone."

Author's note: The setting of the story is write after Cloud dies in AC. In this, he isn't brought back to life in the Church's pool, but thrust back into the body of his fifteen year old Cadet self. This series will have several parts to it, as it a rewrite of Fruor's Hourglass. ( s/6031591/1/Hourglass ). Due credit is given to them for their beautiful piece of work. :) Also, the name of this story is a pun. Get it? Cause its a REWRITE of an older fic and Cloud is REWRITING history? ;DDD ahahahaha...I'm sorry. I'm lame.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN FFVII, OR ITS CHARACTERS, GAME, WORLD, ETC.

CHAPTER 1:

This event was unforeseen. A moment, which lasted but a few minutes, full of relief and peace, was cut short at the pulling of a trigger aimed at the heart of the planet's hero. In this moment which ended a life, all the regret, unfinished business, the opportunities abandoned, all the things left unsaid rippled through everyone's mind who witnessed this unexpected turn of events. But no such feeling of regret was as heavy as the one now laying on Cloud's shoulders when he was on the brink of dying.

With the threat to the world gone, and feeling forgiven by Aerith, Cloud thought to himself, 'I should be at peace.' That wasn't the case. Regrets of never saying I love you enough to his mother, to killing the civilians during AVALANCHE's raids, to Zack's sacrifice, brought upon a pressure like cinder blocks being laid on him in a painstaking slow pace. If he had been asked what his dying wish was, he would respond with, "I want to save everyone."

. . . . . .

It was so hot that Cloud, when he opened his eyes, expected to see flames engulfing him. After all that shit he went through, I'm in hell? He'd say. Instead, blue eyes saw only the underside of the mattress hanging above him. 'What?' Cloud thought when he sat himself up, expecting the pain of a gunshot wound in his chest, but nothing followed; he was healthy. There's no way he dreamed all of that... No, that could not be it.

Cloud inspected his surroundings which became clear the more he saw in what little lightning there was. He was in the SHINRA Cadet Trainee Barracks. Everyone was still asleep, so it must be early yet. Though, that wasn't stopping Cloud. He got to his feet and headed in the direction of the bathroom.

Cloud shut the door and took a long look in the mirror. The features of his face were boyish, roundish cheeks and lack of growing facial hair, even his eyes were less radiant than he last remembered them. The only feature that remained the same was his spiky hair. Even the rest of his body was much less toned and developed.

So what did this mean? When he died did he just... get a do-over? But why this specific point in time?

Turning the faucet on to its coldest setting, he cupped his hands under the running water then splashed it against his face. 'Okay, Cloud... You died and woke up in your fifteen year old self's body. What the fuck are you supposed to do now?'

It was then there came a knock on the door. "Just a minute." Cloud turned the water off and dried his face, then exited the washroom. Everyone was either up and getting ready, or still trying to shake themselves free of the fatigue. No one spoke to each other, in fact there was something nervous about the air in the room. Ah, he remembered that nervous feeling. The first day of training, it was always the second hardest; the second day was worse when you had to deal with the sore muscles.

Training... That means the instructor would be... Zack.

Cloud's anxiety lifted at the thought of seeing his best friend alive. Maybe Zack would have some idea what was going on? It wasn't a hopeless idea, Cloud decided. If not, then... the only conclusion Cloud could come to was that he was reliving his life. If that's the case he has the opportunity to do it all over again. He could save everyone this time around.

And so, Cloud started off his day with the glimmer of hope tucked inside the pocket of his Cadet uniform pants.

. . . . . .

The knot of tension between his shoulders was uncomfortable to say the least. Even when his table mates, who all complained about how shitty the cafeteria food was, told him, "My buddy who was a trainee last year said that Zack's a pretty easy going guy, you'll do fine!", his muscles wouldn't budge. How could he relax with General Sephiroth, the nightmare, sitting just eight tables away from them? Cloud tried to be rational. Sephiroth isn't a murderer yet, he's not under Jenova's mind control, he says to himself as he forces in the disgusting, yet nutritious morning meal.

When Cadet next to him cracked a perverted remark about Wutaian females that the whole table erupted in laughter about, save for the youngest who blushed crimson all the way to the tip of his ears, Cloud still couldn't withdraw his gaze from Sephiroth's being.

"Aye, Spiky, what's got you all zoned out? You don't like Wutaian girls or somethin'?" The nickname shifted Cloud of his trance; and he looked to the boy two years older who addressed him.

"Not really my thing, no." He replied.

"What's your thing then, huh? Silver hair and mako-enhanced eyes?" He laughed; everyone at that table laughed. Cloud grimaced. "Yeah, we all see you starin' at him. What's that about?"

"Nothing." Cloud said as he scooped up another forkful of what everyone perceived to be eggs, but didn't question because knowing the truth behind their origin was scarier than facing down the Zolom.

"Don't be shy; nothin' wrong with admirin'! What's not to admire?" And thus they all proceeded to talk about the General's many feats. Cloud had to stop eating and excuse himself from the conversation. He was reminded that he'd have to be careful if he was going to keep a close eye on Sephiroth. Giving people the wrong idea wasn't something he was too fond of.

. . . . . .

This was it. In just moments Zack would be in to command the Cadet's on their first day of training. Cloud kept watching the clock. It was as if each tick got louder and the movements of the hands got slower as eight-o-clock approached. But when that door opened and out strolled the tall, sixteen year old Zack Fair, sword in its sheath, Cloud fought back the urge to smile. Instead he stood still in line with the rest of his comrades awaiting further instruction.

"Morning, Cadets!" Zack was a second class SOLDIER at this point in his life, though unlike any other second class, he wore a blue uniform, rather than magenta.

"Sir!" The Cadets spoke in unison.

Back when Cloud first joined the army, Zack hadn't taken much notice of him until the Modeoheim mission where their helicopter crashed. Not that there had been much to notice from the start; Cloud was a young, hopeful country-boy in over his head. His hand-to-hand combat skills had been average, but his sword proficiency was poor. Back in his town no one had much use for swords. Cloud improved his skills over time and became adept in the practice. Guns were just as hard. The way they functioned confused Cloud and he spent many nights in the bathroom reading over the manual.

Zack Fair walked down the line of hopefuls. He knew, just as Cloud knew, that less than half of them would ever make second class-even less would even be considered for first-but that didn't stop Zack from encouraging each of them.

"You doin' alright there, buddy?" Zack asked as he took a seat next to the sweaty Cloud. They were taking a break every two hours, this being the first of four.

"Just fine." Cloud replied with a weak smile. He'd have to work harder than before to get his body up to par of a First's. As luck would have it, his knowledge of combat stayed with him. Though his stamina would need some work.

"Good. Keep up the excellent work, kid, you'll make it to First in no time." Zack slapped Cloud's back and walked off in his confident stride to speak with another red-faced cadet.

There was no recognition in Zack's eyes when they spoke one on one. Cloud realized he was in this alone. 'Guess I'm on my own... Great.' Although he didn't expect Zack to be in the same situation as he was, that annoying trickle of hope had been there all along; now it dissipated and the only optimistic thoughts he had were replaced with worry and anxiety.

The knot from breakfast returned and during the remaining training hours it didn't matter how winded he was, he felt like beating the shit out of the practice dummy. He'll regret it tomorrow.

. . . . . .

By the end of the day, Cloud's muscles ached whenever he found a moment to relax. Training was over and trainees piled out of the locker room one after another until it was just Cloud left alone with his thoughts. How was he to do it? To keep Zack alive was his first priority. He recalled the events that happened before and after the Nibelheim mission. Sephiroth, Zack, Cloud, and another Cadet had been assigned to inspect the mako-reactor in Nibelheim, Sephiroth discovered he was a mere science experiment, that's where it went downhill. Beneath the SHINRA mansion there was a lab of sorts, filled with journals regarding the experimentation of Jenova cells; and how Sephiroth was one of said experimentation. It was days before Sephiroth emerged, and when he had, Jenova had taken full control over him.

Cloud heaved a sigh and rubbed his temples. The memories were still painful...Most died in that fire, and if they didn't, Sephiroth ran them through with his sword. Tifa's father breathed his last breath, and Tifa was injured trying to avenge him. Zack and Cloud...they narrowly escaped death.

Cloud's butt went numb just sitting there on the hard wooden bench in the locker room. It was nearing the dinner meal time and he was aware of just how hungry he was. Rising to his feet and ignoring the stinging pain in his muscles, he dresses himself in his casual garb, and heads out for the cafeteria. He'll have time to maul all this over before he falls asleep tonight.

. . . . . .

"Cloud!" Great. The loud mouth from breakfast, Cloud groaned. "Get your ass over here. Where've you been, Spiky?" Cloud didn't mind Barrett calling him 'Spiky', but coming out of this guy's mouth, all Cloud wanted to do was punch him in the face. It was the way he said it, emphasizing the vowel sounds in an excruciating nasally fashion.

"I was resting." Cloud answered as he sat down at the same table from breakfast. Upon impulse he looked up and caught glimpse of the same silver hair. It was hard trying not to despise the man. How dare he go about the meal looking so at peace with whatever the hell the chefs were calling this slab of meat?

"Restin', hah? Training wore you out already?" The brunette snickered. Cloud learned his name was Hunter through the brief points in which he listened to the conversations.

"Stop bothering him, Hunter. Everyone's too tired to give a shit about your teasing right now." A man, about nineteen, sent Hunter a miffed glower.

"Sir!" A boy, younger than Cloud by a year with a chubby face, looked wide-eyed to the end of the table.

"Relax... uh, Chanse, was it? Yeah, Chanse. Don't be so formal, we aren't training." Zack stood at the end of the table where Cloud sat. "How's the meal?"

"As bad as it was at breakfast." Cloud remarked, stabbing his chewy 'steak' with a plastic fork. Cloud swore the steak growled when he jabbed at it.

"I thought it was worse! Like eating a rubber tire." The male pulled himself up a chair from the empty table beside them.

"Don't tell me you ate this?" Cloud was dismayed.

"Don't judge me, Cloud. I was hungry!" Zack turned his attention back to the rest of the table. "You guys sore yet?" Everyone responded with a nod, or a grunt. Zack chuckled, "You'll get used to it."

"How long have you been in SOLDIER?" Chanse asked.

"Let's see...been training for about a year now and just recently made Second." Chubby-face ogled at Zack like some sort of puppy. Cloud had to smile; he recalled once, when Zack told him that his superiors liked to call him 'puppy' for being so energetic. He wondered how Zack felt not being the puppy for once.

"You moved up fast." Remarked Hunter in an implied tone. The urge to punch him the face was escalating once again.

"That's where hard work gets you." Zack replied coolly. No one said anything more on the subject, instead they went back to their normal conversation of women, alcohol, or some stupid, exaggerated story of how they were the best fighter in their home town."So, Cloud, have you had any previous training?"

"Y- No. Not really." Cloud stumbled, but Zack didn't seem suspicious in the slightest.

"Interesting. I gotta admit, I was impressed. You may have gotten winded easy but you knew your stuff." Zack smiled.

"Thanks." his lips hinted at a smile.

"Can't wait to see how you fair tomorrow." Zack playfully jostled Cloud's shoulder once he got up, said his goodbyes to his trainees, then left to sit with his superiors.

Dinner went uninterrupted. Cloud's attention stayed on Sephiroth throughout it, Hunter teased him about it once or twice, and then they all left for the barracks. On his way out of the cafeteria, when he was throwing away his plastic fork and uneaten portions of food, Cloud sent another glance towards the General's table. The General was seated still, clearly ignoring whatever his red-headed companion was going on about. His tray still had the mystery meat on it, to no suprise. Sephiroth moved, and Cloud tensed, but he caught himself. He lowered his hand which on reflex moved to grab his sword that wasn't present. 'Be calm, Cloud.' He inhaled deeply, exhaled, opened his eyes. His gaze caught on the approaching General's mako-eyes for only a split second before he retreated from the cafeteria in a swift walk.

Later, in his not so comfortable bed, Cloud didn't sleep. Instead his mind wandered back and forth between battles with Sephiroth. How merciless the man had been, how eerily swift and precise each thrust of his sword was. If this had been his old body the scars left by the piercing of a sword would be aching. The way Sephiroth fought him was torturous. He played with him, running his body ragged. Why? Sephiroth always went for the immediate kill with others. Did he enjoy torturing Cloud that much? Though he tried, Cloud's thoughts, memories, always went back to that last battle against Sephiroth.

He did not sleep well that night.