A/N: Umm... I wrote this quite a long time ago in a small notebook and decided, on a whim, to post it. Uh... It's my first Final Fantasy VII fanfic so please go easy on me...

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII

Chapter 1: Bridge

A fist slammed into his gut, sending him crashing to the floor and winding him. He coughed involuntarily and clutched his stomach in pain. He rolled out of the way of another punch and pushed himself to his feet in one fluid motion. Another blind punch was sent his way and he deflected it by pushing the fist to his right.

His opponent was thrown off balance and staggered off drunkenly. Seizing this opportunity, he landed a kick to his attacker's abdomen that lifted him a few feet off the ground. As his adversary hovered precariously in the air, he drove his opponent viciously into the ground with a well-placed punch to the back. He gulped and took a step back tentatively. He turned to the girl standing at the side with an amused look on her face. Electricity whipped through his body as glowing turquoise eyes met chocolate brown.

The amused expression degraded into one of disappointment and a frown creased her brow the moment she remembered why they were fighting. She took a step forward and slapped him. Cloud cradled his cheek in his palm, tears of frustration stinging his eyes. He brought his hand away from his cheek. Despite the girl's strength, the slap caused no pain and left no mark. It held about as much magnitude to him as his repeated warnings to her.

"Stop butting into my life, Witch Boy! If I want to cross the bridge, I'm crossing it. I'm not some weak girl you have to protect. I could kick your ass six ways to Sunday. So go away!" spat Tifa, anger lacing her words akin to poison lacing a blade. Cloud inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled shakily.

"Okay," he said, his voice wavering. Then he turned and ran off.

Tifa huffed in her triumph just as the boy on the floor begun to stir. As the two left to gather more friends to join them on their little expedition, Tifa couldn't help but think of Cloud's warning to forgo crossing the bridge. She decided to listen to Ralph complain about Cloud and vow to beat the shit out of the blond for besting him in a fight.

Cloud threw himself into a corner in the Shinra mansion and curled in on himself as tightly as his spine would allow. Crystalline tears fell from his eyes and shattered on the floor as he attempted to hold in his sobs of exasperation. Why wouldn't she just listen to him for once? Just because the village thought that his family practised witchcraft didn't mean that they actually did. They were all just stupid rumours. All his mother did was grow herbs and heal people, but that was all it took for people to brand her a witch. Though they did rely on her and her cures for their own convenience. They were all hypocrites.

He forced himself to calm down and lay in the cool darkness of the mansion, a pleasant feeling whispering through his body. And as it left, it took his negative emotions with it. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to sink into the tendrils of peace that seemed to have wrapped him in its embrace. Not long after, he fell asleep.

Tifa lay unmoving on the hard, unforgiving ground, the last vestiges of consciousness leaving her. The broken skeleton of a bridge creaked ominously over her head, wooden planks that had gotten dislodged lay strewn about her like bodyguards. The boys that had come with her lay a few feet away, their necks and limbs bent at impossible angles. Something told her that they would never open their eyes again. As the last of her thoughts slipped away, something echoed hazily in her mind.

'I should have listened to Cloud,' and all she knew was black.

Cloud had just woken from the best sleep he had had since he could remember and frowned drowsily at the sky beyond the windows, orange bleeding into harmonious blue hues. He had felt something happen, something that he couldn't explain, which he supposed was his intuition.

His brain staggered, trying to piece everything together, but before his brain could catch up, he was already sprinting out of the mansion, sending one of the doors flying off its hinges in his mad dash to get to the bridge. He cringed as the slab of wood fell to the floor forlornly and he silently promised to fix it.

He passed the fence and didn't once slow down, his eyes not really taking in his surroundings. He stopped abruptly as he got to the edge of a cliff, a large open space yawning back at him where the rickety old bridge had been. Looking down, he caught sight of Tifa's limp form, sprawled and bleeding out onto the rocks below.

"Tifa!" he shouted down.

She remained still.

Whipping around, he found a rocky path leading down that looked stable enough. Going against his concern for Tifa, he descended slowly, testing the ground before putting weight on it for fear of falling because tumbling down and breaking a leg would help no one. After an excruciatingly long trip down, Cloud ran to the girl's side and dropped to his knees. Pressing two fingers to her exposed neck, he searched for a pulse, breathing out and sitting on his haunches when he felt her pulse still going strong.

'A miracle. Thank the lifestream,' he thought as he moved to pick her up. An angry growl struck up beside his ear and he barely had time to grab Tifa and roll to the side out of pure instinct. A Nibel wolf flew by his head, its claws digging into the ground where he and Tifa had been, scattering loose rocks.

Tifa's eyes opened blearily, every bone in her body screaming in pain. A strong pair of hands set her carefully on the ground, the rocks poking up against her back uncomfortably. Cloud walked into her line of sight, far away enough for her to see his face. Only then did she notice the Nibel wolf, its eyes two moons of menace. Through the haze, she saw Cloud land a barrage of kicks on the wolf and jump back to avoid a desperate swipe of the wolf's claws.

She looked to the side where the blond was now retreating to and alarm bells went off in her mind. It was one of those naturally occurring mako pools that her father had warned her about. She could almost hear his voice, telling her that if someone fell in, they'd never get out again and die. She managed to make eye contact once, but he merely smiled as she desperately tried to convey the danger with her eyes.

Panicking, she opened her mouth to warn him, but her tongue stayed glued to the bottom of her mouth, heavy as a sandbag. She could do nothing but lay there helplessly and watch as the wolf pounced at the boy, knocking him into the deadly liquid, and landed safely on the other side. She closed her eyes in despair, unable to do anything else as the Nibel wolf stalked towards her, its claws clacking ominously on the stones with its every step.

Warm air blew in her face, carrying with it the smell of rotting meat and musk. She chanced a glance and was met with two rows of fangs, each curving into a crusty, yet dangerous point. Her heart began slamming against her chest with a ferocity that she wished her body could move with so that she could beat the ever-loving crap out of it for killing the Witch Boy.

'No. Cloud. His name was Cloud. And it's my fault he's dead,' Tifa gazed into the Nibel wolf's maw through half-lidded eyes.

A splash registered in her ears, followed by the rapid percussion of stones being scattered and a thump of flesh hitting flesh; the wolf was sent flying away from her person. Cloud stood over her, mako dripping from his form. Digging his feet into the ground, he charged at the wolf with speed she never knew he possessed. He was almost a blur to her as he sent a kick to its head. A loud crunch told her he had crushed its skull. He jumped back, body tense and eyes glowing an ethereal blue.

Cloud knelt down next to Tifa, the fabric of her pants brushing against her cheek. She began to scream in agony. Noticing the small green smudge that the weird gunk on his clothes had caused, he scanned the area for water and, finding none, ignored all decency and licked it off to quell her pain. The creases on the brunette's face slowly slackened and she regained enough mobility to raise a hand and give him a playful slap on the cheek, albeit a very weak one.

"Mako... hurts... Witch Boy," she managed a smile. Connecting the dots, the blond boy took his shirt off and tucked half of it into the waistband of his pants, leaving the other half to hang at his thigh. His body looked unimpressive, but something that shifted beneath the surface of that facade told Tifa that there was more to the small blond boy than she had originally thought. There was no water in sight she guessed he'd have to stay like that if he didn't want to hurt her further via mako.

The mako on his torso was gone, having already seeped into his skin. 'He must be in so much pain. It felt like my flesh was melting off my bones and there were these voices in my head... How is he still standing?' Tifa felt herself being lifted from the ground and hated herself for feeling so weak. His warmth thawed the deadly chill that had previously been boring into her bones. Somehow, she felt safe, and the monotonous rocking as he walked back to the village lulled her into a dreamless sleep.

Cloud trekked back to the village with Tifa safe in his arms. Her presence almost allowed him to forget the possessive fingers of mako on his body though his skin still tingled painfully. It had hurt, but not the kind of agonising pain that Tifa seemed to have been in.

'She must be seriously hurt. She's tough but... I have to hurry,' he quickened his pace minutely, scaling the rocky path with all the agility of a mountain goat.

Cool orange rays lit his path as the sun sank from the sky, close to disappearing completely. A cold wind howled down the path as he neared the village, as if in tribute to the dead wolf. A gathering of all the villagers emerged on the horizon and he called out to them.

The villagers turned around to face him, finally looking away from whatever was in the middle that they had been fussing over. Looks of surprise turned hostile as he approached and the silent tension in the air was so thick that it could be cut with a knife. They parted, revealing his mother and Tifa's dad at the centre.

"What did you do to her you witch?!" Tifa's father broke the silence. Confusion rattled in the blond boy's mind as he stepped in front of the girl's father. A cursory self-evaluation provided him with an answer to his unasked question. He was covered in blood. A terrible red cocktail of Tifa's blood, his own, and the Nibel wolf's. He gulped, knowing that the message his appearance conveyed was exceptionally misleading.

"It's not what you think, sir," Cloud protested quietly and averted his gaze from the mayor's accusing eyes.

"Not what I think?!" the man practically exploded. "You're covered in blood! What else could it be if not for what I think?" The man spat at Cloud's feet in contempt and blatant anger. He relieved the blond of Tifa and handed her over to the village doctor, who promptly scuttled off to his clinic to treat the girl.

"Give him a chance to explain. He's a sweet boy who would never hurt anyone," Cloud's mother said defensively.

"I'd like to see him try," the man growled, baring his teeth. He turned on his heel to face Cloud again and glared poisonously at the blond. "Well, boy? Start explaining!"

"She said she wanted to cross the old bridge. I told her not to, but she wouldn't listen. She took Ralph and two others with her but..." Cloud trailed off.

"So where's my son?" Ralph's mother screamed, clearly in hysterics. Two other adults nodded in consent, similar looks of worry lining their faces.

'The parents of the dead boys,' the blond surmised.

"They were gone for too long so I got worried," the boy shuffled his feet awkwardly. Tifa's father snorted at this, not believing Cloud for a second.

"I went to see if they were okay, but when I got there, they were all lying down below because the bridge broke. The other three..." Cloud bit his lip and hung his head, eyes closed. Images of their cold dead corpses flashed behind his eyes, their bodies pale and unnatural. He opened his eyes and looked up to see the horrified faces of the dead boys' parents, cringing slightly with undeserved guilt. These adults had assumed the worst, and they were right. Their children were dead and gone.

"When I got there, a Nibel wolf attacked us. I killed it to save her. Then I carried her back," he rubbed his arm apprehensively.

"Only the hunters in this village could ever stand up against a Nibel wolf. And even then, they require weapons. He's clearly lying," Tifa's father announced, drawing angry cries of assent from the villagers.

"He is under my tutelage. Killing a Nibel wolf bare handed would have been within his capabilities," Zangan said, stepping forward.

"Ha! Their family is too poor to afford your lessons," the mayor scoffed.

"Who said they had to pay me?" Zangan stated, giving a grandfatherly smile.

"What?" he sputtered, not believing a word that had passed the martial artist's lips.

Shouts echoed off to the side as the doctor came running and flapping his arms. "She lost a lot of blood. I'll need to perform a blood transfusion," the doctor squawked, gesticulating wildly for emphasis.

'But she was fine just now,' Cloud panicked internally.

"I have the same blood type as her. I'll donate," the blond volunteered after a moment of hesitant silence. The doctor turned to him with hopeful eyes but before he could drag Cloud away, the boy's mother pulled him into a tight embrace.

"That's really sweet dear, but Mister Lockhart can donate the blood himself," she smiled down at her son with warmth that could rival the rays of a summer sun.

"My blood type is different. She has her mother's blood type. And... You and your son are the only ones that she's compatible with," the man hung his head in defeat.

"I'll donate," Cloud pressed on, determination flashing in his eyes as he looked up at his mother.

"No, you won't. I will," his mother pushed him to the side and walked towards the doctor.

"But... Why can't I?" Cloud's shoulders slumped.

"You're too young. Don't worry about it," his mother smiled.

Before Cloud could protest any further, she had already disappeared with the doctor. The blond hung his head, a range of negative emotions raging in him.

'Why can't I be the donor?'

Tifa woke to the mechanical beeping of a heart monitor. Propping herself up, she saw Cloud sitting by the bed, his head resting on the sheets. Gold streaked across his blond hair as he stirred from his sleep, yawning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. An unexplainable emotion bloomed in her chest and she swept the boy into a hug.

"Thank you," was all she could think to say. Cloud blinked and returned the hug, resting his hands gently on the small of her back, afraid she would break if he applied too much force.

"Don't mention it. I'm just glad you're okay," he whispered over his shoulder.

"Don't you dare go all mushy on me, Witch Boy," she laughed and eased away from the hug.

Cloud smiled at her playful remark and got up to leave. As he stood in the doorway, he turned around and said, "Get well soon."

He shut the door behind him and left down the corridor. Upon exiting her house, he was snatched up by Zangan who was waiting outside.

"You're an interesting kid," he remarked, following Cloud up to the Shinra mansion.

"Thank you for lying for me yesterday, but I have nothing to give you in return. I'm sorry," Cloud said, forcing his features to look as expressionless as possible.

They reached the mansion and Cloud immediately went over to inspect the door. He heaved a sigh of relief when he found that the damage done was fixable. From behind him, Zangan gave an appreciative whistle. "What happened here, boy?" he tapped the empty door frame with his palm. "You rip it off or something?" he let out a hearty bark of laughter.

The blond 's lips thinned out into a tense line.

"No, it just fell on its own," Cloud lied as he worked on the door with the materials he had brought with him.

"Why are you fixing it then?" Zangan countered.

"Because I didn't want to just leave it there. Seems like a shame if the house is destroyed because there was no door," the blond gave a vague shrug of his shoulders.

"Pro-active huh? Like I said, you interest me, kid," Zangan said, walking towards the fence and leaning his whole weight on it.

Cloud ignored the aged man in favour of the door.

"Okay, boy. I'll cut to the chase. You're a good kid and I meant it when I said you interest me. I want you as my student," the martial arts master dropped the bomb on the young blond. Cloud paused briefly, then shook his head and continued fixing the door.

"Even if this isn't a cruel prank, we're too poor to pay you," the boy jumped up and caught the top of the door frame, dangling off the wooden fixture by his feet while he attached the top of the door, Zangan holding the door in place for him.

"No payment needed," Cloud could almost hear the smile in the man's voice.

'This has got to be a joke,' Cloud glanced at Zangan briefly and suspiciously.

"That would be unfair to Tifa," he fought to keep the emotion out of his voice as he let go of the door frame and flipped in the air to land on his feet. He heard something from the side and looked to see Zangan clapping lazily.

"I knew I liked you for a reason," wrinkled and calloused hands stilled as his mouth moved to form the words.

"Anyone can do that," Cloud said, puzzled.

"How wrong you are," Zangan shook his head.

"The younger of the two turned around to work on the bottom half of the door, his brows dipping into a frown.

"Tomorrow. Here. Dawn. Meet me. If you want to learn, that is," the short, old man announced as Cloud completed his self given chore. Turning around, he left the young boy to his thoughts.

-Six years later-

A thirteen year old blond sat on the front steps of the Shinra mansion, his eyes closed a he felt, more than saw, the world enter a chilly slumber for the year's end. He felt the winds shift and opened his eyes slowly to see Tifa sitting beside him. He stared ahead at the lightly frosted village as they sat in companionable silence.

"I know this is sudden, but we're going to turn fourteen soon so... What's your dream? What do you want to be?" Tifa piped up.

"Promise you won't laugh?" Cloud mumbled, uncertainty evident in his voice.

"I promise," Tifa said solemnly.

"I want to be a chef," Cloud played with the hem of his shirt nervously.

"As in... cook? You?" Tifa raised an eyebrow, unsure if this was some kind of joke or obscure reference to the texts he was always reading at the Shinra mansion.

"Yeah," Cloud said, then fell silent.

"I want to be a professional martial artist, travel the world and make Zangan's martial arts famous," Tifa exclaimed, her eyes almost sparkling in excitement.

"You can definitely do it. I know you can," Cloud said, catching onto her enthusiasm.

She smiled warmly at him and he felt his heart flutter. She had grown to become quite beautiful. She then tilted her head towards the sky and sighed, "Whenever I'm in trouble, you'll come save me right?"

"What kind of martial arts master needs to be saved by a chef?" Cloud laughed, then jumped back swiftly as his friend attempted to punch his teeth out.

"What kind of husband doesn't protect his wife?" she said slyly.

Cloud's cheeks flared red and a temporary speech impediment stole his tongue. A hint of playful malice sparked in the brunette's eyes and she swept Cloud's legs out from under him. The blond's instincts kicked in and he slammed his palms into the ground. Flipping his legs above his head, his torso following after as he righted himself. His body automatically snapped into a fighting stance, only to relax when Tifa started laughing. He pouted at her blatant mirth and muttered to himself indignantly. Suddenly, the laughter stopped and Tifa gasped.

"Oh no, I've got to go home and help prepare dinner. Bye, Cloud," she threw a wave over her shoulder as she ran off.

Cloud continued to stare at the gate to the mansion, even after the end of her chocolate hued hair had vanished from sight. Dark blue fingers of dusk were beginning to branch across the sky before Cloud finally decided to go home. Opening the door to his house, he was greeted by the sight of his mother carrying a steel pot and beaming at him.

"Welcome home, Cloud," she greeted with a warmth that only a mother could have.

"I'm home," he replied, sitting down at the dinner table. After a long silence of their vocal chords, the air punctuated only by the clangs and bangs of his mother preparing food in the kitchen, Cloud finally opened his mouth to speak.

"Mom? Would... Would you be against it if... if I said I wanted to go to Midgar-"

"No! I don't want you anywhere near that den of monsters!" she shouted.

Cloud flinched in shock. His mother had never once raised her voice at him for as long as he had known her.

"Okay, Mom," Cloud acknowledged her outburst, hanging his head and refusing to look at his maternal figure.

There was a tense bout of silence before he heard his mother walk around the table to hug him from behind.

"I'm sorry, Cloud. I just don't want to lose you, okay?" she gave him a quick peck on his forehead and retreated into the kitchen to bring out the dishes.

That night, Cloud lay in bed and waited for his mother to fall asleep, sneaking out of the house for a midnight stroll once her breathing had slowed to steady inhales and exhales. He needed to clear his head and think, and so he found himself trekking to Mt Nibel. He breathed in deeply, taking in the crisp mountain air as he walked among the mountainous ridges. He was confident with his ability to deal with any Nibel wolves that might attack, and dragons never wandered so close to the village even if it was nesting season. Either way, he felt safe.

He was walking further in when an uneasy feeling shot through him. It was the same feeling he had experienced the day Tifa got hurt and the three boys died. It was a feeling that would lance through his body whenever something bad was going to happen and which he regarded as his intuition. The feeling, however, refused to abate, choosing instead to course through his body insistently. And if he listened closely, he could hear voices whispering at the back of his head.

He sighed and took a few deep breaths to speed up the cessation of the feeling. As he did so, his nose caught the signs first. The smell of fire and burning. Curious, he followed it. Then he heard it. The roaring. He picked up his pace and ran deeper into the mountains, knowing full well what was happening.

'Dragon attack,' he concluded. 'But why? They aren't usually this close to the village.'

He skidded around a snow-covered bend and saw men in army-related garb in a panic, swords drawn and fighting what Cloud supposed was a dragon. Some of their number lay dead or dying, ranging from viciously dealt lacerations to incurable burns littering their bodies. So where was the dragon and why was it attacking them?

He saw the nest first, the eggs it contained were smashed. The dragon, however, was tiny. It was one that no one in the village dared to hunt. They had heard stories about it. It was small, fast, vicious and spewed flames from hell itself. They called it the Nightmare because they honestly had no other name for a hellions such as its kind.

"Has the General arrived yet?" a man screamed desperately, only to have the Nightmare sink its claws into his flesh and charge up a flamethrower. The unfortunate man let loose a high-pitched shriek and flailed wildly, treading on the lifeless corpse of a dragon foetus, tripping on it. The Nightmare roared, as if angry that its child's corpse had been defiled, and bit into the man's arm as he fell.

'No wonder it attacked them,' Cloud thought as the dragon let go of the poor appendage, the skin mottled and charred into oblivion. Those men had broken the eggs of the soon-to-be-hatched baby dragons, and crushing their tiny bodies with heavy boots. Those babies were robbed of the lifestream's blessing and of their lives. It was no surprise that they were attacked by the dragon, most likely the mother.

However, these men didn't deserve to die. Without stopping to think any further, he snatched up a sword from one of the bodies on the rocks and charged at the dragon, the fire breather's claws still digging into one of the supposed soldiers.

Sephiroth jumped out of the helicopter, landing on the rocky path below. His men needed help and there was no time to lose. The smell of burning flesh mingled with pained, panicked screams and hung in the night, flanked by a backdrop of blue flames. The silver haired man wondered why there was a dragon so close to the village that was nearby, but he pushed these inquiries to the back of his mind for the time being. He had a dragon to slay.

He turned the corner and saw his men in his immediate vicinity, trying to stay as far away as possible, but close enough to observe whatever it was they were gawking at. They parted as soon as they saw him and he strode further in unimpeded. He filed away what he saw in a corner of his mind labelled 'interesting'.

A/N: Well... I know it's not very good, but give me your suggestions and I'll try my hardest to improve this story. Any kind of review is appreciated. Um... Well... Yeah... D: Oh, and I sort of changed Tifa's and Cloud's blood types for the plot. Yeah... Please don't hate me...