This is to be the beginning, the continuation and the end of Lackadaisical.

I seriously could not help myself.

This seems short once again. It's not, actually, just paragraphing is always so damn annoying here.

Disclaimer: Do not own, although some parts I wouldn't mind having a say in.

Note: Slight ah, slight au, so do expect slight ooc-ness


He stepped out of the shared apartment quietly, the door making a small noise. Letting a small sigh of relief leave him, Cloud Strife set off, avoiding the elevator for a multitude of reasons. He headed down the flights of stairs, through the foyer and out onto the footpath with little to no interruptions.

Perfect.

It was cold, the dew still present on the grass as he passed by houses and other buildings. Early too, as the only cars passing by containing, he presumed, the late-night worker or a rather sad party-animal of sorts.

Never minding the actions of others, Cloud set himself at a reasonable pace once completely out of the view of his apartment. He didn't want his roommates to find out just how early he was out jogging. They would turn more parental than friendly if they did catch word of the hours he had actually been asleep for. He could tell that they were already suspicious, but seeing as he didn't present any form of sleep deprivation, they hadn't approached him about it. Thank Shiva.

Turning another corner, he passed the house of a rather unpleasant person who he had no desire of learning the name of. The house was not unpleasant itself, in fact well adorned and managed, flowers already opening towards the heavens as heavy clouds slowly rolled in.

Swearing under his breath, he increased his pace, hoping to make it in time before a downpour. It would be just his luck to be caught out in a storm.

Nothing had seemed to have gone his way since arriving in Midgar three years prior. His entry into the Shinra Academy was denied at the last minute, due to constraints of such he couldn't fully understand, which ultimately led to them denying him a place in their army. That was a large blow to his pride, and he still hadn't fully recovered that loss of a dream.

It wasn't anything to do with him physically, he was sure about that. He had seen men in Shinra smaller than his 5'7", and he had always maintained near immaculate health. There was the very rare bout of a cold, but he was fine, physically. Sure his mental health could be a bit iffy at times, but otherwise, he was fine.

Even three years after, they still hadn't given him an answer. Just promised to call back when they found the documents that stated a reason for being denied at the last minute.

Shrugging the thought away, he tried to bring about pleasant thoughts. Like how he had briefly left Midgar for a small apprenticeship in Modeoheim, and had met his first real friend, Zack Fair, there. They had been able to set up a life in Midgar, running a small delivery service which brought in a decent amount of income.

Stopping to tie a shoelace, Cloud remembered when Zack first brought Aerith Gainsborough home, and how she had been expecting to meet the parents and not the roommate. It had been rather awkward at first, but that was quickly forgotten as Cloud asked how they had met. It was a rather strange explanation of how they had first met. Something to do with crashing through a church roof.

He grinned at that, stretched his arms above his head, and turned to go back home. He still didn't believe that that had happened. No matter how much stronger and resilient Zack was he wasn't Superman. He didn't believe that anyone could crash through a roof and survive.

Cloud jogged back, passing the perfect house with its imperfect resident, and resisted an urge to blow a raspberry at the house. He really disliked the guy living there. The jerk managed to make everyday a living Hell for Cloud, going so far as to steal his clothing and using his boxers as a flag. Even going so far as to salute them, which Cloud found rather disturbing.

Cloud seriously believed that those actions only happened in ridiculously corny movies. Obviously, he was dead wrong.

Slipping back up the stairs quietly, Cloud sighed. The rain had just started, and the unmistakeable claps of thunder had begun.

Aerith was a reasonably deep sleeper, by any standard. As was Zack. Sadly, she had a small fear of thunder and lightning, waking up from whatever deep slumber she was in instantly. Zack would then wake, making efforts to calm Aerith by any means possible.

Most means were truly unpleasant to Cloud, and he sent a little prayer the Gods above that they hadn't started that again.

His prayers were - for once - answered, as he walked in and met with two sets of eyes. The coffeepot was steaming and blankets had been thrown over the backs of the stools.

Smiling, he shut the door behind him. Aerith ran into his outstretched arms, shaking a little as the claps and rolls of thunder went on for some time. Cloud smoothed her hair and brushed the loose strands out of her face, hooking them around her ear. Feeling his heavy stare, he looked up at Zack, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Where were you, Cloud?" Aerith asked for him, looking up with wide eyes.

"I went for a run, like I always do," Cloud said, shrugging. They should have known by now.

He had been going for runs early in the morning for a little over a year now. It was a habit to expel dangerous thoughts.

"Even in this weather?" Zack asked, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes narrowing just a little.

Cloud refused to roll his eyes at that rather stupid comment, instead settling for a few words. "I hadn't realised it would turn out like this."

"Bullshit."

"Zack," Aerith started, turning to face the angry man.

Cloud narrowed his eyes, and Aerith slipped out of his grasp. He could feel an argument starting, and he didn't like it. He didn't get why it was just so goddamn hard for Zack to let him do things on his own. Did the man expect him to just keel over and die? And, when had this need for parental supervision begun?

"Aerith, come on, you can't deny that you weren't worried."

"Still, just leave it."

"For one day, would you two please just stop talking about me like I'm not here? Is that so hard to ask?"

Aerith and Zack looked at Cloud, who was just seeping anger. He hated being babied. It was the worst feeling in the world, having everything bubble-wrapped and censored. How in the world did they expect him to learn a life lesson or grow the fuck up if they continued to tell him what to do? No wonder he wasn't getting anywhere. All because of this.

Zack opened his mouth to retort, but decided against it. He was only trying to help, really. He just didn't want to see Cloud fall down in another heap due to depression, or worse, the stigma that was floating around. It would kill him to see the kid brought down again by something like that.

Sighing, Cloud walked past the couple, heading for his room. He was really tempted to kick one of the unpacked boxes on his way to the spiral staircase. But that would make him look even more like a child, which would call for more parental attitude.

Looking to his left, he didn't feel in the mood to admire the view that was established by the glass panelling of the lower floor. The panels spanned the entire wall; all were a good 20 feet tall, meaning the lower floor was always the brightest. Which would normally please him with the outlandish view, and with a storm coming, it always looked that much better.

After coming into a considerable amount of wealth, which he still would not give details about, Zack set about spoiling himself with the best. It was reasonably childish at the time, but Zack had yet to show signs of regret towards the decision, instead still basking in the ostentatious apartment with fervour. Even though they all had little to no material possessions to fill it with.

Sadly, the staircase always failed to provide a dramatic entrance or exit, as apart from having to go round and round, it always induced a small amount of nausea. He always had a sick feeling that he was standing at the edge of the earth when on the second floor of the very large loft. A firm grip on the railing helped him, ever so slightly.

Walking into his room, he completely ignored the Corinthian columns which he had always made an effort to look at. He was just too jittery and angry and sick to care. He did end up kicking an empty box across the floor, possibly leaving a mark. He was in too much of a bout to care, though, and basically begged for some sort of response to come. When nothing did, he huffed and continued walking.

The floor beneath him was a rich mahogany, with a thick golden carpet underneath his feet, and always managed to seem to move with him. The dark swirls on the bare walls were entrancing to say the least, and were not helping to calm his turbulent stomach. He was glad he hadn't taken the elevator. Really, truly glad.

Throwing himself down on the king size bed, he looked around his room.

He was such a dick, acting like he didn't care and didn't appreciate what Zack and Aerith were doing for him. He should just take his own advice and grow the fuck up. Grow a pair and deal with it. The things he thought everyday when seeing his classmates. Why couldn't he just follow his own advice, just for once? Really, was it that hard? Apparently so.

The walls were a dusty bluish grey, with fabric - a darker shade than the carpet - hanging above the bed. Unconsciously, Cloud reached up to feel the fabric. It was soft like silk and so smooth. Distracted, he calmed down considerably, feeling glum, sombre and empty. Drained of all emotions to even care or move. Which annoyed him, as he know had nothing to truly run on.

He eyed the increasing pile of junk - as Zack had lightly put it - in the far corner. He needed to sort through it all, but he didn't feel a need to at that very moment. It was mainly full of CDs, vinyls and DVDs. The shelving opposite the bed was intended to hold said items, but he hadn't found the time to sort through them all.

The little alarm next to his bed went off; telling him it was 7:30am. He silently congratulated the little machine, and smashed the snooze button with a closed fist.