Rise Up
By Rosie
"Get up, Coward!"
The harsh laughter echoed through the dazed boy's head. Gritting his teeth, he struggled to his feet, wiping blood from his split lip. There were four of them this time: less than usual. He straightened his back stiffly and shot the leader an icy glare through the muddy blonde locks hanging in his face.
Duke had always hated him. Because he was short, because he was quiet and, most of all, because he was different. Duke and his gang had been tormenting him for years, ever since Cloud had accidentally knocked him down in the hallway of the little schoolhouse when they were seven. Now, five years later, they were twelve and the immature taunts and shoves had morphed into regular beatings and humiliations.
This particular beating had been caused because he had looked for too long at Tifa, Duke's crush. In truth, he had no interest in Tifa whatsoever; he preferred to be alone than to be surrounded by their meaningless chatter. But Tifa had been kind to him, an unusual thing in Nibelheim, where he and his mother were surrounded by hostility. He had been surprised, and stared at Tifa. And now he was paying the consequences.
"Too scared to even speak, eh? Cloud? What kind of name is Cloud anyway? You fucking pansy!" Duke moved forward threateningly and his three goons eagerly moved encircle Cloud.
He warily drew back from the approaching enemy. Unfortunately, that put him in reach of Maroko. Cloud yelped as the thuggish boy grabbed Cloud from behind. He was held fast as the boys around him laughed maliciously.
Cloud looked around frantically, searching for some sort of help, but the street was empty, and even had there been anyone there, they would have just averted their eyes from the scene. A hard blow to his stomach made him gasp and brought his attention back to his situation.
"Say something!" Duke screamed in his face, spittle flying. Ah well. He was going to be pummeled anyway, so he might as well make some sort of stand. He slumped down, pretending to collapse from exhaustion. Maroko snorted and said, "Aw, look! The weakling's gonna faint!"
They laughed yet again. But he felt Maroko's grip loosen on his arms. Which was just what he'd been waiting for. Years of being the target of aggression had forced him to learn some last measure tricks. He smoothly tucked his legs up and let his arms relax so that he slid to the ground in a crouch. Maroko gave a surprised exclamation and he and Duke lunged at him.
Cloud was to fast for them. Staying crouched, he scuttled between the boys grasping hands and tore off down the street. He may have gotten a head start on them, but his legs were shorter, and soon he heard pounding footsteps gaining on him.
Only one thought raced though his head and he ran as fast as he could. Safety. He had to get to safety. There was only one place where he could find shelter from his adversaries, only one place where everyone else was too scared to venture. Cloud had nothing to lose, and thus did not fear the reputedly haunted ShinRa mansion.
Luck was on his side, and he somehow made it to his asylum before Duke and his gang caught up with him. The imposing mansion loomed balefully before him, seeming to cast a malevolent shadow upon the lands around it. At this sight, where most would falter in their steps, Cloud's sped up, and the flame of hope burned in his chest.
Upon reaching the gates, he scrambled up the rusty black metal and vaulted to the other side. He collapsed to the ground, gasping for air and clutching a stitch in his side. Seconds later, Duke's voice rang out from a safe distance away from the gates. The damn hypocrite was himself too scared to come closer.
"You can hide as long as you want, coward! Eventually you'll have to come out, and when you do… we'll be waiting!"
Cloud was suddenly pelted with a rain of rocks, and tried to crawl further away. His head felt hot, and he dimly realized that he must have been hit there. His vision began to darken and he fuzzily heard the boys' retreating footsteps before he lost consciousness.
Hours later, it must have been, Cloud woke up in darkness with a pounding headache. He stifled panic and cautiously squinted around him. He was still lying in the garden in front of the mansion, but now it was night, and the moon shone brightly above him. Cloud pulled himself to his feet and swayed a bit, dizzy. He stumbled forward, trying to reach the front steps.
It seemed to take years to walk the few steps that it took to reach the door. He pushed it open, too pained to even be surprised that it was unlocked.
He lurched through the house, not taking in his surroundings. He vaguely wondered if his mother would notice that he was gone before he once again passed out, falling to the floor.
The next time he awoke he was more alert. Cloud had become pretty adept at assessing his wounds so he carefully probed his head. There was a large lump where the rock had struck him. Very painful, but probably would not leave lasting damage. Aside from that, he had an assortment of bruises all over his arms, face, and torso. His shoulder ached fiercely, though. He rolled it and grimaced. Sprained at the least, ripped tendon at the worst. This was probably the worst beating he'd yet received.
Cloud frowned. This was getting serious. How much longer would it be before things went too far and Cloud ended up seriously injured, even dead? He had tried to speak to his mother about moving, but it was no good. There was something wrong with her mind. The villagers had told him that she had always been that way since coming to the town, unmarried and far along in her pregnancy with him. Cloud had to take care of her rather than the other way around. But he was still a minor, and his mother had the last say in their affairs. And she was irrationally determined to stay in Nibelheim. He was stuck.
The thought of running away had occurred to him before of course. But how could he, in good conscience, abandon his mother in a town that was almost as unfriendly to her as it was to him? He owed his life to her, and she was the only one in the village who did not despise him.
Cloud pounded the floor with his fists. He was stuck! There was nothing he could do.
Far beneath the place where Cloud rested, deep in the bowels of the tunnels under the mansion, a presence stirred. It had been dormant for many years now, slumbering. But it had always listened to the whispers of the mansion, the voices of the memories and the ghosts left in its bloodstained walls.
Now the voices were excited, the whispers more animated and clear than they had ever been. The presence listened, growing ever more attentive. There was something in the mansion. It was a mortal being, but one whose spirit radiated in the gloom.
A thought began to form in this creature's mind. It would find the one who disrupted the tranquility of its home. It was feeling an emotion that it had not felt since before its imprisonment: Curiosity.
The presence awoke.
Cloud had pulled himself from his self-pity and was now exploring his refuge. He had expected it to be more… Terrifying. It was actually kind of pleasant in an opulent sort of way.
He had wandered into one of the upper rooms and was lying on a huge bed covered with a moth-eaten silk spread. All the windows were boarded up so that only the smallest shaft of moonlight illuminated the room. From what Cloud could tell, it was a guest room. It was comfortable but vacant of any personal belongings.
He closed his eyes. He would look for food in the morning. He doubted that he would find anything edible, but he was determined to stay in the mansion for as long as possible. If worst came to worst, he would go out on the next night and steal food. This way he could keep an eye on his mother and stay away from the other villagers at the same time. It wasn't an ideal plan, but it would have to do until he thought of something better.
That decided, Cloud allowed himself to slip into a deep sleep.
Unbeknownst to him, a shadowed form entered the room and examined him. Its red eyes scanned the dried blood caked on his face and clothes and the fresh bruises on his pale skin. A single gold claw reached out and hovered over his head.
Cloud drowsily opened his deep blue eyes. For a second there was silence, then Cloud gasped and shrunk back, his eyes widening in fear. Before him was some sort of man. His eyes were glowing red out of a white face framed by silky black hair. He wore ripped black and red clothes and had a golden gauntlet in place of his right hand. The man looked like some sort of vampire.
"W-Who are you?" Cloud stammered, his voice small and fearful.
The man was as still as death, but at length, a deep voice came from behind his red cloak. It was rough and harsh from years of disuse, and Cloud had to stifle a shudder at the sound of it.
"I was once called… Vincent Valentine."
There was more silence, in which they examined each other further. Cloud found himself relaxing. Whatever would happen to him would happen, and there was nothing he could do about it. Who- or whatever this Vincent Valentine was, he was obviously larger and more dangerous than Cloud. Besides, as he thought before, he didn't really have anything to lose, did he?
"Can I help you with something?" Cloud asked politely.
The man blinked, surprised. He had watched as the boy's initial fear had melted away and been replaced with resigned calm. It wasn't natural. He knew that he looked like some monster from a child's bedtime story. And this boy couldn't be more than ten years old, judging by his size. Why wasn't he afraid? And why was he covered in bruises and blood? There was something dull in those blue eyes, something that disturbed him. It was the same dullness that he had seen in the eyes of people who he had called comrades long, long ago. It was the same dullness that he knew he would find in his own eyes, were he to look in a mirror.
" Why are you here?" Vincent asked.
"For protection." The boy answered unflinchingly.
"Protection from whom?"
"The villagers."
Vincent was puzzled. "Why are the villagers after you?"
"Because I'm different. Because I have no father. Because they don't understand."
Vincent digested this information in silence. Was the boy an orphan or a thief? This didn't make sense. Nibelheim had been a quiet and friendly village from what he recalled… "What year is it?" He asked abruptly.
The boy gave him a curious look but answered, "487."
Vincent almost gasped. Could it really have been that long?! It had been year 436 when he'd been imprisoned! That meant that he was over sixty years old! Impossible. He didn't feel any different. He shot a menacing look at the child. "If you're lying…"
The boy looked bewildered. "Why would I lie?"
Vincent didn't answer, he was already striding to the desk at the side of the room. On the desk was a mirror. Not hesitating, he stared at his reflection. He looked the same.
"It must be the mako…" He muttered to himself. That bastard Hojo! He would find that freak if he was still alive and carve his revenge upon the sadist's flesh!
"Mako?"
Vincent turned to see the boy standing by the bed and looking more confused than ever. He felt a twinge of pity. The child looked so small and downcast standing there with his big blue eyes and hair hanging in his face. "You should leave this place." He told him, his voice more gentle than before.
The boy looked torn. "I can't. My mother wants to stay here."
"If the villagers treat you in this deplorable manner, you cannot remain here."
"My mother is in no condition to listen to reason. There is nothing I can do."
Vincent shook his head at the resigned words. "Do what you will."
Without further delay, he left the room. The child could stay in the mansion if he so desired. Vincent had no claim on either of them. He retreated back into solitude to ponder the new information he had received.
For the next few days Cloud remained unbothered in the mansion. He slept during the day and ventured out only at night to pilfer food and water. His wounds slowly healed. He saw no more of the mysterious Vincent Valentine, but whenever he felt cold, extra blankets would show up in his room and fires would be lit.
In this new solitude, Cloud found himself more at peace than he had ever before been. He had plenty of time to do some serious thinking about his situation and life so far.
One thing that he knew was that his current lifestyle would not be able to continue for long. People had to be noticing that their food and supplies were disappearing in the night, and it wouldn't be long before the town gathered its courage and organized a search of the mansion.
He needed a plan. What was he going to do with his life? He couldn't stay in Nibelheim; he knew that. He had to convince his mother to leave. He was determined.
With conviction in his steps, he left the safety of the mansion and headed for his mother's house under the cover of darkness. He flitted from shadow to shadow, keeping a wary eye on the windows of the houses around him. If he saw a single light flicker, he would be gone in a flash.
He relaxed slightly when he reached his house. He pushed the small gate open slowly; it was always unlocked. The front door also swung open to his touch. He quietly walked to his mother's room and approached her bed. It was empty. That was odd. Cloud felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
He whirled around and ran for the door but it slammed closed. He was suddenly knocked onto his stomach and felt an uncomfortable weight on his back.
"Finally showed up, eh?"
Cloud shivered. He knew that voice. Sure enough, Duke's faithful cronies cackled stupidly at his comment. Cloud struggled to get away but was restrained. "Where's my mother?!"
Duke kicked him in the side. "Idiot! You don't even know, do you? That whore was killed two days ago by monsters! Stupid woman left all the windows open at night."
Cloud was silent. His mother was dead. He scanned his emotions and found… nothing. He never really loved her. All she was to him was a burden, a responsibility. What he cared more about was that his only tie to this horrible village was gone. He was free to stay of leave as he chose. He was filled with a lightness unsuited to his current predicament. As if to remind him of said predicament…
"Aw! Is widdle Cloudy gonna cry?" Duke taunted.
A sudden gust of frigid air blew through the house, cutting him off. Duke shuffled nervously and glanced around. "Close the door, Brock!"
But a wave of darkness then crept into the room, menacing and slow. A hollow voice rang out from the darkness. "Leave this place, vermin, if you value your existence."
Duke squeaked in fear and the four boys fell over each other trying to escape through the window. Cloud was left on the floor still facedown. Slowly he got to his feet and turned to the darkness. "Vincent."
The man looked back on him. "Your mother is dead. Will you leave this place?"
"May I go with you?" His blue eyes were steely.
Vincent studied those eyes in silence, then, satisfied, held out his human hand to the boy. Cloud stepped forward and placed his own small hand in the man's gloved one.
"Shall we?"
They developed a routine. He would answer Vincent's questions about the world and set up camp while Vincent chose their path and pace. Cloud did not know where they were going, but he was content to just travel in silence with Vincent.
He also did not know why the enigmatic older man asked so many questions about obvious things, like the state of the ShinRa company or the current world events. It began to bother him that he didn't know anything about his companion.
Finally, while they were walking across a vast grassy field between two ridges, Cloud's curiosity got the best of him.
"Hey Vincent?"
The man was walking ahead of him and didn't turn to answer. "Yes?"
"How come you ask me those questions?"
He was silent for a while before saying, "I was in that mansion for many, many years without contact so I don't know what's going on in the world right now."
Cloud pondered that. "Where are we going?"
"To get more information."
Cloud huffed. Why did Vincent have to be so unresponsive?
Ahead, Vincent hid a smile. He heard Cloud grumbling about 'uncooperative vampires' as he shuffled along behind him. He hated to admit it, but he was growing fond of the boy. He wasn't loud and talkative like so many other children. He was quiet and efficient and asked few questions. That had been one thing that Vincent had been afraid of: That the boy would ask him about his past. But so far, Cloud had been an ideal traveling partner.
An idea occurred to him. "Cloud, do you know how to fight?"
Now he turned to actually look at the boy. He was surprised, but also wary.
"I know a few tricks." He answered cautiously.
"Would you like me to teach you?"
They had both stopped and now Cloud was scanning Vincent's blank face. "Why?" He asked simply.
"Traveling through the world like we are going to be doing is dangerous. There are perils all around us, and I may not be able to protect you at all times. I can teach to hand to hand combat and how to use a gun. If you become show promise, I can teach you more."
This was probably the most that Vincent had ever said at once, and Cloud listened intently to all of it. He considered for a second, then nodded decisively. "That makes sense. I'd like that."
Vincent nodded in approval. Cloud had given the matter serious thought, not just agreed with the childish enthusiasm of most boys his age. Cloud had been forced to grow up faster than other children, and though the circumstances were vile, Vincent was glad for Cloud's maturity.
"Very well. We will start immediately."
The training would slow down their progress, but Vincent had no definite destination in mind. He would train Cloud and gather information at the same time.
A good place for information would be Costa Del Sol. Ships to and from the eastern continent always occupied the harbor. The only better place would be Midgar, but Vincent wasn't about to go back there. Not until he was prepared.
Vincent faced Cloud, who eyed him nervously as he crouched down in a neutral combat stance.
"Come at me."
Cloud stared at him. "Pardon?
Vincent sighed. "Attack me."
"How?"
Vincent looked at him in disbelief. "Just come at me as if you were going to attack me."
"How?! You haven't taught me how!"
Vincent just looked at him.
"Whatever you say…" Cloud grumbled, then obeyed.
Right before Cloud reached him, Vincent ducked low and swung a foot out to sweep Cloud's feet from under him.
"Woah!" Cloud leaped nimbly over the foot and jumped backwards, landing low to the ground.
"Good. You have some promise."
"Mostly picked up from years living in that town."
"Now try that again."
Cloud once more darted forward. Vincent repeated the sweep kick but this time leapt up immediately afterward. Cloud swung an underhanded punch at Vincent's stomach. Seconds later, Cloud lay sprawled on the ground with Vincent standing over him.
"Again"
Cloud groaned.
By the time they reached the seaside resort town, Cloud was practically dead on his feet.
"Civilization!" He cried melodramatically, and fell to the ground. "I'll wait for you here."
Vincent looked at him in amusement. "Very well. I'll bring you some food once I get news."
Cloud watched his companion's retreating form as Vincent made his way into the town. He could hear shouts of merriment and hawkers' cries faintly. It seemed like a busy place. He waited until he was sure that Vincent was a safe distance away, then leapt to his feet, grinning. Time for some exploration! Vincent was great and all that, but he wasn't exactly the kind of guy Cloud wanted to be around 24/7.
He walked through the gates, wide eyes taking in as much as he possibly could. The streets were lined with shops of all kinds, each with its own team of hawkers running up to people to advertise their wears. The people all wore extremely little, something that Cloud was not accustomed to. Though he supposed he couldn't blame them- the sun was almost unbearable in its strength. He was pouring sweat even in his loose clothes.
Speaking of his clothes… Cloud looked down at the filthy rags he wore with slight disgust. He hadn't changed in weeks, and frankly, he could understand why everyone was giving him a wide berth. Vincent had been wearing the same outfit for years, it seemed, and never needed to change, so Cloud feared he might not think to get him any new clothing,
He felt someone crash into him from behind and whirled around.
"Watch where you're going, urchin! These shoes probably cost more than you do!"
What the hell?! A portly man dressed in a gaudy red velvet robe patted his bulging money purse. Two giggling girls in bathing suits clutched his flabby arms and stroked his yellow Mohawk. Cloud jumped back, trying to keep his revulsion from showing on his face. Who was this creep?
The scantily clad strumpets crooned and led the man to a booth across the street, while he patted their rears lecherously. Cloud glared at him. He already hated this overfed pervert. What had that comment about his shoes being worth more than him meant anyway? His eyes lit up with a sudden thought. This man was obviously far too wealthy for his own good. It would be in his best interests if a boy like Cloud relieved him of some of it. Especially when his purse was hanging so provocatively on his hip.
An hour later, Cloud swaggered out the gates toward where a very pissed off Vincent stood waiting. He was newly dressed in loose grey jeans and a long sleeved dark blue shirt. The still-heavy purse clinked merrily on his new leather belt.
He stopped before Vincent and smirked up at him like a satisfied cat. The older man towered over him, silent and cold. His eyes were like chips of bloody ice flashing over the red cloak. They came to rest on the purse.
"Have fun?" Cloud asked finally, trying to hide the dread that was steadily drowning out his feelings of accomplishment and satisfaction.
"Where were you?" The dark man's tone left no room for trying feeble excuses. Cloud tried anyway.
"It occurred to me that you probably wouldn't get anything for me to wear. And this creep was just begging to be put in his place."
"There is no room for thieves in my company."
Fuck. Vincent was really pissed. Cloud winced as his friend abruptly spun and stalked away, cloak fluttering ominously. Well great. Now what should he do?
The next six hours were spent in silence as Vincent walked through the darkness toward some destination unknown to Cloud, who plodded along a few yards behind him. By now, he was tired he could barely keep his eyes open, let alone think. All his energy and concentration went into keeping his feet moving.
He didn't know how long it was until he caught up with Vincent and realized that his companion had stopped. He was wordlessly setting up camp. Sending up a thanks to whatever deity was listening, Cloud collapsed, asleep before he even hit the ground.
Later, gentle red eyes scanned the boy, and Vincent sighed. This was going to be the ruin of him, he thought as he stretched his cloak over his charge. Cloud mumbled something and snuggled into the thick cloth.
Months passed. Autumn cloaked the land in hues of orange and brown, and a nippy wind brought vibrant leaves rustling to the ground of a small forest in which a boy and a man lived.
Vincent was very pleased with his young friend's progress. Cloud was a quick and able learner, and possessed enormous potential. In the six months in which Cloud had been under his tutelage, the now-thirteen year old boy had become quite good at hand to hand combat and the use of firearms. Vincent had even given him one of his own handguns on his birthday.
The older man was convinced that he would be able to continue his hunt for Hojo very soon. He had recently received information about his nemesis' current activities and was anxious to get his revenge.
He entered the small clearing that had been their home silently. Cloud was crouched by the fire pit, cooking something for dinner. Vincent had been pleasantly surprised by the discovery that Cloud was quite an able cook. It did make sense, if he thought about it. He had been taking care of both himself and his mother for years, so of course he would be able to cook for them.
He leaned against a tree and watched Cloud. He really had grown fond of the boy. It was impossible not to. Cloud was just so… determined. He never gave up on anything. And he always put his entire self into everything he tried. It was no wonder that he was making such fast progress.
Cloud pulled whatever he was cooking off the fire and turned to face Vincent with a smile, which the older man returned.
"What's up, Vince?" Cloud asked softly, coming to sit beside him.
"Hmm?"
Cloud grinned up at his friend. "You have your thinking face on."
If he hadn't been Vincent he would have snorted. Cloud had also become very good at reading him. He sighed and sat as well, looking Cloud in the eyes.
"I've decided that it's time for me to resume my search for Hojo." He had confided to Cloud his goal, though not specifically his reasons.
"Alright…" He searched the dark man's eyes. "I'm ready to leave whenever you are."
"Cloud." This was the part Vincent dreaded. He steeled himself. "You are not coming with me."
His young friend's face turned incredulous and he hurried on. "I have taught you enough so that you can protect yourself without me, and I've arranged for you to live with a farming family up near Rocket Town."
"Farming family?!" Cloud repeated angrily. "I thought I was going to travel with you! You said that you were training me so that I could travel with you without you having to worry!"
"You are too young for this. I have enemies who would not hesitate to torture anyone who they thought might be connected to me. It was foolish of me to put you in danger as I have been these past six months."
Cloud glared at him, too angry for words. He slowly rose to his feet and stood for a second, stiffly. "… I guess I'm a farmer then."
If Vincent had any suspicions about this sudden meekness, he was too relieved to pay them too much mind. "I'm glad you're being reasonable about this. Now let's get some food and go to sleep. We leave tomorrow morning."
Cloud ate and prepared for bed in silence, not even bothering to return Vincent's "Goodnight."
He remained mute and sullen throughout breakfast the next morning and during hike out of the forest. But When Rocket Town came in sight, and the companions halted, Cloud threw himself at Vincent.
The older man looked down at the blonde spikes against his chest in surprise, but returned the hug after a slight hesitation. "Good luck, Cloud. We will meet again."
Cloud sniffled and pulled back, head bent so that his hair fell in front of his eyes. Vincent watched him remorsefully was he scrubbed furiously at his face. Cloud wasn't going to make this easy, was he?
But he would not change his mind. This was for Cloud's safety. So he walked away, never noticing the sly look on Cloud's remarkably tear-free face as he watched his mentor's retreating form.
eHHE HE