Author's Notes: Yet another one of my challenge stories. I owed a person a gift and they chose to go my noun route. Their nouns were Shower, Bet, Soap, Bench, Video. Sorry sweet people, I'm not going the obvious smut route here.

Unsaid

Sometimes it was hard to accept really, that he was here, alive, practically successful, and still living the same life he had back then. Things were different of course, but never enough so that he could really forget, and sometimes not enough for him to tell past from present.

Take the shower for instance. This one had probably no less than five shower heads, but for some reason it felt no different than the messy old communal ones where you had less than three minutes to put soap to skin before someone else came in, and when you were as self-conscious as him…

The water was turned off before he could let himself become consumed in a memory he did not want bound to. There was always far more work than he really wanted to do, so getting distracted was the last thing he needed now. So, focusing very hard on not focusing upon his past, on accepting the present, Cloud started about the work of the day.

There had been a time, long ago, that he hadn't really understood why his best friend had been such a carefree guy who seemed to be all play and no work. In his position now, Cloud could do little more than envy the carefree way the man had operated. There was a mound of paperwork before him, and the uniform he wore was far too tight on his neck. Really, there was little more he wanted to do than set fire to the pile, but he knew Reeve did at least three times this work in one day, and if that one could handle it, so could he.

So the blonde settled himself down into the expensive leather chair and pulled the first piece of work towards him. Another report on the actions of the Turks and Rufus. He expected no less these days. Reeve kept rather close tabs on the benefactor that he wouldn't admit to having for the WRO. Cloud could not blame him of course, one never knew what the former prince was up to, and if his intentions to restore the world were really true, or just more games.

When he shifted after a few minutes so that he could turn the page, Cloud could not hold back a groan of annoyance. The overly soft chair had practically swallowed him again. What he would have given for one of those old, practically broken wooden benches, like the one Zack had stolen for the dorm. Zack had always said that he'd miss that thing one day, and when Cloud had said no, well… they'd placed a bet. Too bad he couldn't pay up anymore.

When he got home, it was all he could do to throw himself down on the couch, stripping his uniform coat off in one quick motion. It was one of those days, where he couldn't get Zack out of his mind. He had them every now and then, where every single action brought to mind a better time that wasn't much better. Brought to mind a hyper young man with mako eyes and dark hair and the friendliest smile that the world had ever known.

His hand fumbled lazily for the coffee table and the universal remote upon it. While his eyes were riveted upon the ceiling he played with buttons until two similar beeps and whirs told him what he wanted to know. As hard as he tried, he couldn't help but gaze at the television screen as the video played out a long sought life, as past that he could never have back. So he just laid there, and when all he wanted was a kind word, or a pat on the head, all he got was pixels on a screen and a voice echoing through poorly set up speakers.

For hours he just rested there, stretched out, watching the same clip of a day at the Golden Saucer over and over and over again. Waiting for the smiles, the laughs, the energetic looks as Zack found something new to drag the camera holder, a young Cloud, to. And when it was over, he rewound the tape to watch again.

Who knew why he did this? Cloud really didn't. It was pointless really, to hope for that past. Maybe it was because it was the second Monday of the month, Zack had always said those were unlucky. Maybe he was just lonely in his still dead end life as a hero.

Or maybe… he thought as he finally nodded off with the sound of Zack's laughter filling his mind, maybe it was that he regretted never saying what he really wanted to say.