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

Finally got around to finishing this chapter. I'm horrible, I know, I know.

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

Stepping off the bus with extra annoyance for good measure, Cloud huffed at the sight of the school. He didn't like it here. It was a backwater school, when it came down to it. He was used to backwater, truly, but he had thought that moving to Midgar would change all that. He had thought that things would take an upward turn. Not downwards and then horizontal.

Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, Cloud moved with the crowd towards the entrance. They were screened for weapons, drugs and alcohol here, which failed to surprise him now. At first, he had been completely shocked by the measures the school took, but now it was just something that he had to deal with in order to get that certificate saying he made it somewhere in life.

Allowing some guy to push him through a metal detector with little to no effort, Cloud swooped for his bag and kept walking. He had no patience for them to really do a full body check, and besides, the guys knew him too well to keep him back for too long. He was a good boy, so they could trust him.

Avoiding any further contact with bodyguards - or males larger than himself for that matter - Cloud ducked into the main building. He wasn't technically allowed in the building until the first bell rang, but technicalities aside, if they expected him to live any longer in this hole, they had to have exceptions some of the time. Like now as Cloud ducked into the closest classroom, after spotting a teacher walk past him, completely oblivious.

Keeping the door open a crack to keep watch, Cloud let out a sigh. He could hear his classmates shouting outside, and was completely content with being away from them. He had always been excluded, so why change something now when he - and the rest of society - was so damn used to it? He didn't see any reason to, so he didn't do anything about it. Neither did they.

Hearing someone clear their throat, Cloud whirled around. Chanting more words than necessary under his breath, he looked around the room. He half expected the principal to walk out from some secret door. He seemed to have a habit of doing that at the most inappropriate times.

Instead, he was presented with an admirable set of legs that he recognised rather well. Fighting a blush, Cloud looked up at the owner's eyes.

The owner of the legs suppressed a smile and instead sent him a knowing look. "Nice to know you have hormones, Cloud."

Cloud huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, looking away. He didn't know what to retort with, exactly, as he most definitely had hormones. Well, he would know, as he had to subtly change his sheets every so often, as she, his mind and his bed often had wonderful moments together, and left the rest of him to deal with the aftermath. She wasn't privy to that information, however.

"I'm kidding, Cloud."

Sometimes, he wished she would stop ending almost all her sentences with his name. She had his undivided attention, regardless of the situation, but to make it more obvious somewhat annoyed him. Maybe it was because Aerith did the same thing, but her tone was more chiding than what the girl in front of him used. The girl's tone was just … indescribable and yet he had hundreds of words stored in his head to describe it.

"I know, Tifa."

He looked over at as he sighed. They had grown up near each other in the small town of Nibelheim. They weren't as close as everyone thought, regardless of living next door to each other for most of their childhood. He wasn't exactly welcome within range of the Lockhart household, and the areas around the other children's homes, anyway. And, Tifa hadn't always acknowledged him up until the incident.

Accidents happen, his mother had argued, but people still locked their doors at night like he was going to charge in and murder them all. A tempting thought, but it remained a thought for a long, long time, only ever cropping up when Nibelheim and him were roped into the same sentence.

Clearing her throat in that terribly uncomfortable manner, Tifa pushed herself off the table. Cloud had resigned himself to wandering around the room, not recognising it in the slightest, and picking up an assortment of items scattered about, seemingly interested in them so much, Tifa made a quiet escape.

He did, however, notice, and made no move to say anything other than a small 'goodbye' she didn't hear. It didn't faze him, as he was sad to say that he was used to being ignored, or treated gently. It was one of the things that came with the territory of being Cloud Strife, freak extraordinaire.

He placed a small blue gem back in its box, and closed the lid, running his hands through his hair as the bell rang.

As he left the classroom, he caught sight of Tifa in the corridor, talking to friends that he would never recognise, save for Aerith of course. As far as he was concerned, they were all a bunch of airheads that he had little time for, and only ever conversed with when forcefully paired with and made to do all the work.

Turning, he ignored the small smile sent his way and kept walking, head down and pushing through the crowd.

He was invisible, and that was the way he liked it.

Reaching his locker, and paying no attention to the intense match of tonsil-hockey happening next to him, he fiddled with the lock until it sprang open.

A loud bang rang out, and Cloud only had a second's notice to close his eyes.

Something wet, sticky, and smelling oddly like the strawberries from home, hit him in the face and chest. He didn't have to think hard for long to figure it out, when the laughter began.

"Aw, man, haven't they taught you to use a tampon?"

Gritting his teeth, Cloud opened his eyes and looked down at his shirt.

And there was the tell tale sign of just how much combined brain power it had taken to install such a thing to shoot him with red goo. He would applaud them for convincing someone doing engineering to construct such a mechanism, but he was already walking up to the culprits and leaning in too close for comfort.

"Do you have something you want to say?"

Jerk did little but edge back slightly. Strife was just another fish in the sardine packet to him, who had the funniest reactions to most things. But now, he wasn't sure if he had overstepped the line. Just quietly, the boy scared the shit out of him.

At the jeering of his friends, he leaned forward, not showing just how disconcerted he was by the odd colouring of Strife's eyes.

"Yeah. Here's a tampon. Learn how to use one."

He slammed the packet into Cloud's chest, pressing it hard enough that it would stick to the goo. Cloud looked down, raised his eyebrows and looked back up. He was not impressed.

"Raiding your mother's cupboards for them again? Tut, tut. Wouldn't she like to know that her precious little boy has female problems of his own, too?"

The words were his death, as Jerk roared, and threw Cloud against the lockers, sufficiently bruising the boy's back.

Cloud did little to prevent it, looking off to the side like he was bored, and catching Aerith's eye. She was on her phone, and he knew exactly who she was calling.

Feeling a surge of anger, Cloud turned back to the guy pinning him against the lockers.

"You know, I always thought you looked better in red."

Cloud reached into his locker, grabbed as much of the goo as he could, and slammed it into Jerk's face, rubbing it in and grinning the whole while.

His victory didn't last long, however.

"Mr. Strife! My office. Now."