A/N: Well, here we go, chapter two. Hmm. I'm not sure how it'll go just yet, lemon scene-wise or not. Sao requested one, but, I'm not certain I'm going to work it into this chapter. But, never fret, I plan on making this many chapters in length. So, yeah ... Oh! If you like this fic, you should read Stars a little AkuRoku I'm working on. .::.pimppimppimp.::.

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy or any of these characters. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this. I'd be enjoying riches and what not. xD


Chapter Two: The Death of a Soldier
By .Rythm.Emotion.

Time passed, though Cloud wasn't sure how much did. He was only numbly aware of the passage of time. days turned to weeks and weeks to months. After living in a painful nexus where time stood stock-still, it was something of a Herculean task to adapt to the gentle progression of time. Though it was a natural human trait, adaptation that is.

Before Kadaj, Cloud's mind would have asked him, after the concept of human qualities passed through it, whether or not he could accurately be described as human. Part of him, the staggering majority of him, wasn't real. He's been made. his memories of a life as a Soldier had been made. Stolen. Yet, somehow, none of that mattered anymore. Not when he was held in the arms of someone who at times seemed so gentle and innocent, and at other indomitable and preternaturally strong. Kadaj's slender arms held him close, come each ride of the moon across the night sky. And every night Cloud slept, without really sleeping. Trapped in being the ever aware Soldier that he never actually was. And though Kadaj could see that Cloud was still trapped in himself, still fighting for a way to identify himself as a person, there was nothing he could thing to do that would help him.

But Cloud, if he were asked, would have said, quite firmly, that he was fine. That he had stopped allowing himself to be dominated by false memories of battles he never took part in. That he was carving a new definition or himself out of the memories he knew belonged to him and only him. Though these memories were few, and most were too clouded to properly recall.

He awoke one morning to find his bed empty, and where Kadaj usually slept was nothing more than a bare, cool spot of white fabric. He sat up immediately, blond hair falling into his eyes and framing his face, but he didn't push the strands away. He welcomed the obstruction of his vision, it reminded him persistently that he was imperfect. "Kadaj?" He whispered as his bare feet touched the cold floor. "Are you here?" He stood slowly and walked to the wall, confident despite the darkness. His hand trailed the wall as he neared the door, searching for something and, when he found it the room was bathed in sterile light with just a tiny flick of his wrist.

He looked around the room, examining every aspect of it. On one, far wall, Kadaj's leather outfit lay, thrown across a high-backed, wooden chair. And in the corner by it, a half hazard pile of discarded swords, all in various seizes and lengths. The closet door was closed, the closet door was always closed, and the bedroom door was left ajar. All things were as they always were, and somehow, that worried Cloud more than if the room had been in shambles.

He left the room, only distantly aware that he slept in boxers, and walked down the long hallway, lined with rooms for children and friends. To the staircase where he stopped to listen, and heard a conversation he found strange and unnerving, yet somehow comforting in its own strange way.

Kadaj sat on the bar, though Cloud couldn't see him. And behind the bar stood Tifa, who seemed only slightly awkward around the half-naked clone. "I don't understand," Kadaj whispered, and Cloud had to strain his ears to hear. Tifa said nothing, and if Cloud could have seen, he would have seen Tifa gently lay her hand on Kadaj's shoulder. "He says he loves me, but he still wanders around in a daze most of the time."

"That's just his way," she whispered. "It's the pattern his life fell into and he can't help but hold onto it."

"But, why?" Though he couldn't see the expression on Kadaj's face, he could hear the deep underlying feeling of desperation in his smooth voice.

"Give him time," she said. "I know it's a hard idea, but if you give him time, love will eventually soften his soul."

"Does he even have one?" And Cloud could hear Kadaj's immediate, sharp intake of breath that mirrored his own. "No, I didn't mean that ..." He covered his face with his hands and Cloud could hear his dry sobs. "I didn't ... oh gods ..."

"Kadaj, it's okay. If such accusations and doubt were enough to shatter Cloud, don't you think Sephiroth would have won out a long time ago?"

"This is different, I'm his lover, Tifa. His lover." There was pleading in his voice now, though Cloud wasn't sure why. That he wanted to take back the comment was his silent and correct assumption.

"Sephiroth was his lover too, Kadaj." Again, the same mirrored gasps. Cloud hadn't known that any of his friends knew the truth about he and Sephiroth's romantic rendezvous. "He survived killing his lover not one, but twice, so far. And he survived his lover trying to destroy him and the rest of the world. Cloud isn't as fragile minded as he might seem. And do you honestly think he couldn't handle your doubt? When he deals with doubt every day." She asked, then added. "And that's if you ever tell him about this conversation."

Kadaj looked down, looking more defeated and sad than when he'd lost Jenova's head. "If I tell him?"

She nodded slowly. "You can tell him about this conversation, or you can rely on him to find out on his own. And he always does."

Cloud didn't want to hear the conversations conclusion, but, perhaps he should have stayed. Because if he had, maybe he would have learned something important about love. And these thoughts tortured him to sleep. The tantalizing 'what ifs' that he'd never know the answer to. Because he'd chosen to return to the comfort of his bed. Where he thought he might feel safe.


Again, time passed, and now Cloud was more aware of it. The overheard conversation, though never brought up by Tifa or Kadaj, had spurred Cloud to try to notice things he'd missed. Things like the way Denzel and Marlene played with Kadaj, the way their pure hearts had forgiven him completely. And the way the bar filled slowly every night, only to have the patrons slowly trickle out at the same time. He was even noticing time. Days no longer felt the same to him as weeks, and weeks felt different from months. It was as if the natural order of things had finally caught up with him.

He was smiling more, though he didn't realize it. He smiled when Marlene wanted to play, or when Denzel and Kadaj tumbled across the floor playfully (he was always surprised at how gentle Kadaj really was.) He even laughed, on occasion. Like when Tifa had walked in on him and Kadaj in the shower, in the middle of questionable activities. Though, in hindsight, the encounter had been more mortifying than funny (and Kadaj still blushed every time he saw Tifa.)

Cloud had always been told that time would free him. And that, if he'd allow it, someone would make him happy. Maybe not true happiness, granted, because there were too many horrors in his past for that. But, someone would come along who had the ability to fill some of the void in his life, some vacant, empty part that make-believe memories would never be able to fill. And he had always wondered about the truth behind the promises, he'd always doubted that he could be happy, regardless of the circumstances.

But now he wasn't so sure, Living his life the way he now was. Seeing Kadaj and everyone else in a new light. One that was white, pure, and nearly blinding. But that he loved all the same. Flowers had real color, the sun held real, soul healing warmth. And the cold, white place of glass trees and crystalline water seemed like the far away stage to a fading nightmare. He didn't think about that place anymore, that time.

Kadaj, however, he still thought about. And the muted conversation he'd eavesdropped on still came to him when he least expected it. When he was making breakfast, or delivering things for Tifa, or even showering. Kadaj's stricken voice would float to him on the wing of a silver angel.

Does he even have one?

The question would shatter his stability, plunge him into what remained of the torture chambers within his mind (he's sought to destroy them all). And there he'd sit, chained to the wall and unable to move, until someone came along to rescue him. That person was usually Kadaj. He'd come into the room and instantly lock onto Cloud's renewed brooding. He'd slink an arm around his shoulders and hold him close, scarcely saying anything. Because he could always tell it was something Cloud wouldn't be bale to talk about. Cloud knew this, and he knew it because he knew of the love between them. And love was understanding. Or, it was in a perfect world, anyway.

And when Cloud broke down, he'd not say anything about what was bothering him. Not because he couldn't, but because he knew, if he said something, his newfound world of happiness that he was growing increasingly attached to would be lost. And after three months had passed since the conversation, Cloud was still dutifully silent. Not because he didn't want to confront Kadaj, but because he refused to relinquish his grip on happiness. Even if the elusive feeling did flee from him, from time to time.

But all good things must come to an end ...

He didn't know whose voice whispered the old saying into his mind, but he knew that eventually, despite his persistence and firm grip on happiness, there was no way to avoid asking Kadaj about the conversation he never should have heard. Because the knowledge that Kadaj thought (and might still think) that he likely didn't have a soul tore at him. He couldn't handle knowing that Kadaj might still feel that way. He had to know, he had to ask.

And so he sat in bed, waiting for Kadaj to finish his shower. And in his mind he was going over what he was going to say, how he was going to start. Because he was a new person, he felt that surely. The part of him that had been a Soldier, that fabricated, stolen part of his being, was dead and buried. He was going to make Kadaj see that. Or, at the very least, he would try.


A/N: This is LOADS shorter than I wanted it to be, but it got to the point that ending the chapter was the best thing for it. Because I did want this chapter to end without anything happening. Because, in every way, these three chapters are the beginning, middle, and end to the story. Yes, that's right. The next chapter will be the last. So, shall you stick around to see just how Cloud handles this situation? But, be warned, I like angst filled angst. So, it wouldn't be too surprising if Cloud ended up alone and broken. But, then again, I love Cloud. .::.giggles.::. C'mon, you know you wanna stick around!

Speaking of things you want to do, you want to review. Don't you? (Aww, c'mon, you know you do!!)