Gas prices were astronomical these days. Cloud, living in the city with functioning buses and a subway, did not often have to drive. Occasionally he drove out of the city to visit his mom but not regularly, especially after he broke up with Squall; he had been quite antisocial for a time.

Recently he had been driving to his hometown or back at least twice a day every 24 hours and his wallet was feeling the strain. It was magnified further by him not having his job any longer, or, well, being on 'pause.' He had not planned to go back to work until he was all done with his thesis but at this rate he would have to…

The long trip out of the city and repeated visits to the pump were worth it though, in Cloud's opinion. After all he was on a mission, solving a mystery, talking with Sephiroth—any desperate history fanboy would be honored to spend the Gil to make their meetings happen.

This time though Cloud was nervous instead of excited as he cruised through Nibelheim toward his mother's house and the reserve behind it. Yesterday morning he visited after failing to go the day before because of a bad storm. The news reported power outages in parts of Midgar and trees that fell on houses just outside it. It was wise of Cloud not to come but judging by Sephiroth's reaction the morning before he had to make things right as quickly as possible (or, rather, his lack of one. The General did not appear despite all of Cloud's yelling).

But, as Cloud theorized the day before, Sephiroth did not seem the type to sulk and pout, and he probably had the sense to chalk Cloud's lack of appearance to the massive thunderstorm overhead. Hot tendrils of worry made his stomach knot as he eventually made it to the right road by his house and quietly rolled down it. It had been nothing but sunny and offensively hot since the storm so the roads were in considerably better shape. His car would be covered in mud but it did not seem in danger of getting stuck anymore which was a relief.

Cloud stopped his car eventually at what he instinctively knew was the right place and climbed out. The full moon was just a day or two before and the area was still filled with light. The stars, too, were breathtakingly numerous out here; he felt more connected to the planet and the universe than he ever felt in Midgar.

Halfheartedly he cleared some of the mud from before off and out of his boots back at home but three steps into the field they were filthy again. "Sephiroth?" he called, his voice weak, afraid Sephiroth was angry with him.

The trees in the distance ruffled with the wind like someone affronted and Cloud sighed. He closed his eyes and took a moment to calm down, frustrated. When he opened them, however, he took a step back from the figure in front of him, hands in pockets and smiling softly at him.

"It's good to see you Cloud," Sephiroth said.

"General!" Cloud stood up straighter and had the weird urge to salute. "You're here?"

"Of course. I cannot leave."

"But where were you yesterday? Were you pissed at me for not coming the day before? I meant to but the storm was awful. You probably saw it. I really do apologize for that."

Sephiroth watched him nervously babble with a frown. He waited until the blond subsided to say, "I was with you yesterday."

"You were? I couldn't see you."

The ghost smiled, full of that strange moonlight that danced and shimmered today like he was pleased or amused. "Don't come during the daytime," he ordered in what was undeniably his military voice. Then, softer: "I walked beside you and said your name but you couldn't hear me. I cannot be seen or heard while the sun is out. I tried to calm you down… you were quite worked up."

"Oh," Cloud said, embarrassed.

"I also figured that the storm was the reason you failed to appear." Sephiroth then turned away from him and squinted at Cloud's car back on the road. "You are under no obligation to come here every day, Cloud—you do know that?"

"Of course," the blond protested, shocked that Sephiroth sounded…shy, almost, like he felt bad that he was inconveniencing Cloud. "I want to though. I want to solve this and get you home."

"Me too," Sephiroth agreed. He turned back around to eye Cloud. "Thank you, by the way. I never thanked you for the effort you've put forth thus far."

"You don't need to thank me, Sir."

Relieved that nothing in fact happened to Sephiroth and that he wasn't upset or angry (and that he was developing more and more of his personality by the day) Cloud laughed and dove into his intended task for that evening with enthusiasm. "Okay," he explained, "Today I think we should record everything you can remember so then we know what to focus on next time. You still have energy left for that?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Let's start with your childhood, then. Where were you born?"

As it turned out Sephiroth remembered just bits and pieces of his life, leaving gaps that Cloud had to bite his tongue not to fill. He was partly a biographer, after all—he was able to talk for hours about Sephiroth's time at the academy and his early Shin-Ra years. This was not the place, however; he forced himself to stay quiet and merely prompt Sephiroth instead as he frantically wrote.

In the long hours Sephiroth spent by himself out here he thought, he informed the blond. Usually days and years passed in an unthinking daze but since they met Sephiroth had been focusing very hard on his past and why he could not remember and gotten a few muddled memories for his efforts.

Much of the chronology of his life was forgotten but more than anything else Sephiroth seemed to remember his friends best. Despite being a bit counterproductive and wanting to move on to other things Cloud let Sephiroth talk freely about them. He first described Angeal, honorable and brave. He was Sephiroth's most trustworthy acquaintance and trusted him with any knowledge. He recounted a story of them at the academy, sneaking in to the mess hall late at night for snacks. They almost got caught but Angeal's quick strategizing got them out safe. The ghost did not mention anything else about the academy and Cloud wanted to go back and pick at it because it was important but he let it slide—there was time for it elsewhere, he supposed.

Zack was a mischievous little goofball but loyal and smart and not at all incapable of being serious. He kept Sephiroth's spirits up and often fought with him in battle. Sephiroth revealed not liking him at first, convinced he was intruding on his close friendship with Angeal and Genesis. Eventually, however, Zack won him over and he found that he had been wrong about assuming Zack was intruding at all. The man became just another wonderful part of their dynamic and soon Sephiroth could not imagine life without the younger warrior.

Genesis brought both smiles and expressions of sadness to Sephiroth's visage. Genesis and he had a fiery relationship, Sephiroth explained—they were at the same time very similar and very different. They fought a lot and at times could not stand each other but were never able to leave or function without the other. Cloud stopped trying to steer the conversation away and just listened as the man spoke about General Rhapsodos. They met when Sephiroth joined the academy and on the first day got into a fight on the courtyard that ended with Sephiroth's nose and rib broken and needing to go to the hospital.

The shifty way in which he recounted a few other stories about Genesis and described him made Cloud curious, positive the man was leaving something out. Before he got the chance to ask however Sephiroth steered the conversation to the war, which he remembered being in charge of the military operations for, a few battles, and that's it.

He did not remember at all how he, or his friends, passed away.

Cloud, recording all of this in his notebook with the help of a flashlight, nodded along and actively listened. It was mindblowing to hear these things from a personal point of view and not from a historian's.

"Wow," Cloud said to him when Sephiroth finished, the man racking his brain for anything he could remember, "That's a good start. Tomorrow night I'll bring my stuff and we can work on filling in the gaps. Sound good?"

"Yes," Sephiroth answered, and his voice was softer than it had been. Cloud glanced up and Sephiroth was paler, barely clinging to this world.

The ghost fixed him with a strange look. "Thank you again, Cloud," he said and then faded away.

"It's my pleasure, Sir," Cloud answered, unsure if Sephiroth could hear him. He headed back to his car, exhausted from standing so long and stretching out his hand which cramped from all the frantic writing. The discomfort, though, along with the tiredness he felt as he drove home with the gas needle dangerously close to empty was worth it. How could it not be when Sephiroth—Sephiroth!—fixed him with such an expression of genuine thanks and appreciation?

At 10am the next morning Cloud stared at the back of Squall's head, a familiar sight. He could not help but think of Seifer and their recent get-together and all they had talked about. The other blond had not seemed too surprised to hear that they dated—they gave off a, what was it, "weird vibe?".

It had been a lot more than dating, all right. They lived together, worked and studied together, loved each other deeply. Cloud had even gotten an engagement ring, a beautiful band masculine enough not to hurt Squall's pride, but soon after everything went to shit for no reason. Cloud cried in public when he returned it.

Squall greeted Shelke as she came in; they were friends, or as much friends as anyone could be with Shelke. Cloud diverted his attention and said hello to his own friend, Firion, as he sat down in the chair beside him. "You look tired," Cloud noted.

Firion scrubbed at his face with his hands and rolled his neck. Cloud smacked him soundly on the back a few times. "No kidding," he said. "It's really tough trying to find time to work with the Emperor going on the rampage as e is. Sales are down a bit this quarter so I'm on shift all the time."

"If you guys really need to sell some stuff I'd gladly take Tsurugi off your hands…if you knocked it down a couple thousand Gil."

"Mateus would kill you," Firion responded simply.

Cloud made an over-exaggerated pout. "That's not nice. C'mon, I'd take good care of it."

"I know—why don't you take my job and save up for it in store credit instead of getting a paycheck? That's a win for everybody."

"Not interested."

Cloud was faring better than most of his peers in terms of stress, anxiety, and tears. The hard thing, Cloud realized, was figuring out what to say to people about his research while not giving it away that he had some extra help in the form of a ghostly spirit of the research subject himself. How was he supposed to defend his research to a panel of cutthroat academics who would call him out for suspicious acquisition of information, for that matter?

He made up some garbage about focusing on primary sources for figuring stuff out and dodged everything else in his small-group discussions with Yuffie, Firion and Cid. When class ended Cloud was a little hot and sweaty under the collar from nerves but pushed his worries away as he walked to the parking lot like usual with Reno.

"And he told me all about Genesis, Angeal and Zack," he narrated, flashing the pages and pages of scribbled notes, "Even some stuff I've never read in any book before. It's nuts, Reno."

"Damn. Think you can get him to remember?"

"I hope so. So far my prompting has helped. I really think that if I teach him enough about himself and the war he'll just…remember how he died."

"If you say so, yo."

"You're a huge help. Really motivating."

Reno shrugged. "I don't know how ghosts work, yo. It seems like a lotta luck to me is all. I'd have a backup plan just in case."

"Yeah…you're right."

"I'm always right."

After going their separate ways Cloud got in his car and tsked to himself. It was foolish to think it would be as easy as passing along information to Sephiroth and having the man solve the mystery on his own. Lazy, too. As for what exactly would be required of him he was unsure but he had to be proactive about it.

Squall was probably at the library again, the predictable jerk, and Cloud quite honestly did not have it in him to deal with the brunet today. At home there were chores to do; he neglected things like laundry and dishes when stressed and busy. That did not sound appealing either. Instead of going to either place Cloud drove to his favorite bar with his favorite female, whom he had not visited in too long.

Seventh Heaven was a cheap, crappy hole in the wall when Tifa bought it but these days was a fine establishment. Despite being the middle of the day there was a lunch crowd in; she opened at noon a few days a week and at five p.m. other days. Cloud ducked inside and smiled widely as Tifa handed a margarita to someone and then caught sight of him over their shoulder.

"Cloud Strife," she accused, drawing a few heads, "I wondered when you would remember to pay me a visit."

"Sorry," Cloud apologized, "I've been busy!"

"Uh-huh. That's what you always say." She quickly tended to someone needing a refill and returned as Cloud slapped a few bills onto the counter.

"'Cause I'm here I guess I might as well. Can I have a—"

"I don't want your money," Tifa interrupted, handing him his money back. "I'd rather you work for it." She handed him a rag and fixed him with big brown eyes, "Want to clean that table over there for me?"

"Sheesh, alright," Cloud grumbled, but it was all in jest. He obediently went to the right table and gathered the plates. Her usual busser must not be in.

Sometimes Cloud worried about Tifa who managed Seventh Heaven with just a few staff on hand to cook and clean. She was strong and tough, however, and always proved him wrong so it was all probably for nothing. After cleaning off the table and wiping it down he returned to the counter to have Tifa drop his favorite cranberry-pomegranate concoction in front of him with a thanks.

Tifa was busy, bustling around while dealing with hungry customers. Cloud watched her quietly, proud, and he finished his drink as he waited for her to be free. Once the crowd mostly left she found the time to come over with a glass of water, which she placed carefully on the counter away from Cloud's open notebook which he was writing in.

"How goes the thesis?"

"Alright." Cloud gave Tifa a critical look, trying to decide whether he would open up to her as he did Reno about what was really going on. That had not been his intention when coming to visit, finding he missed her presence more than anything. She probably would believe him and would not judge but something held him back.

Instead of anything about Sephiroth Cloud opened his mouth and confessed, "I think I met a guy."

"Really?" Tifa waggled her eyebrows at him. After the break-up with Squall Tifa was the one who witnessed most of Cloud's anger. She understood him. "Who is it? How'd you meet?"

"His name is Seifer Almasy. We met at the library, actually."

"Great," Tifa huffed playfully, "Another nerd. Great for you then."

"Haha, he's a nice guy—hot too, I swear. It's just—he, ah…"

"Hm?"

"He knows Squall."

Tifa winced. "How?"

"They kind of…hate each other, actually. Were neighbors as kids. We ran into Squall in the library too and I thought they were going to attack each other. Remember how Squall has that scar?" He drew it on his own face, and then a mirror image. "Seifer has one in the opposite direction. He told me they did it to each other as kids during a fight."

Tifa sighed and let her forehead rest against the countertop. "Cloud," she groaned, "Squall's evil nemesis, really? How does that even happen to you?"

Cloud laughed. "No idea. I like him though. Tell me it's a bad idea and that I shouldn't pursue anything."

"Well, I don't know about that, but… he better be damn cute if you're willing to go through all this. There are so many red flags with dating someone so connected to Squall."

"I know, I know."

Tifa sighed and then left him alone for a few minutes to check on the kitchen, and when she returned Cloud abandoned the talk of Seifer and Squall and asked her instead how she was doing. Tifa obtained a degree in business management in the last 12 months, going back to school. Seventh Heaven was doing better than ever, she recently hired another employee and she actually had a date for the upcoming weekend with a man she met at a wine tasting she attended recently looking for new products.

As kids the two of them always stuck together against the world and were known as troublemakers in their small hometown. Fondly Cloud could remember them sneaking into Nibelheim Manor, a long-abandoned mansion on the outskirts of town only to run out hand-in-hand when they thought they heard a scary sound.

Tifa's life seemed so put together these days though, and Cloud couldn't help but feel a little jealous. Tifa cupped his face with her hands and looked him evenly in the eye in her usual businesslike manner. "If you're having a hard time you can come to me—remember that, won't you?"

"Yeah. I will. Thanks."

With a kind smile Tifa clapped his cheeks gently and then handed him another damp rag. "There's two more tables that need cleaning."

As Cloud ate dinner at his kitchen table that evening he sighed in frustration after yet again failing to get anything of interest on Hojo. He found no records, no birth info, no anything! The only thing that kept resurfacing was the Hojo Science Foundation, which he had discovered a few days ago. The blond pulled out the post-it he wrote the HSF's contact info on and after some deliberation called it; why not?

"Hello, you've reached the main branch of the Hojo Science Foundation," gushed a too-happy female secretary. "How can I help you?"

Cloud could give as good as he got. He put on his patented innocent-student voice. "Hi! My name is Cloud and I'm a history student at Midgar U. I'm really interested in Barnaby Hojo—I was just wondering if you could tell me a little bit about the Foundation?"

"Oh, sure! Well, as you know Mr. Hojo was a brilliant scientist back in the day. He was close friends with the great President Shin-Ra, even. He made all sorts of advances in science that were almost lost forever! His great-great grandsons, Nero and Weiss Hojo, didn't want that to happen so they built this place in his name in order to keep Hojo's work and his passion for science alive."

"What kind of advances in science did he make?"

"I—oh, I… I don't really know." The secretary seemed puzzled. "There is a very small exhibit here on Hojo's life and works, if you would like to see it."

"Where are you guys?" She told him and Cloud wrote down the address. He then coaxed, "Do you know anything else about Hojo? It would really help me a lot."

"Huh. Well, I understand some of his experiments were controversial, although I don't know why. Nero and Weiss don't tell me these things."

"Would one of them be around?"

"Nero is still in his office, I believe, but—"

"Can I talk to him? Please?"

"…Oh, all right—you can try. I'll send you through to his line."

"Thank you so much."

"Sure. Good luck on your project, sweetie."

Cloud rolled his eyes as he quickly shoveled more food into his mouth before he had to speak again. The phone clicked and then a masculine voice said, "Yes?"

Sounded like a total asshole. "Hi," Cloud said, "My name is Cloud and I was just speaking to your receptionist, I presume—she's great by the way."

"Get on with it."

"…I'm a history student at Midgar U and I really admire Mr. Hojo but I'm having a lot of trouble finding more information on him for a paper I'm writing. I was hoping you could help me fill in some of the gaps of my research—like what exactly he did around the time of the Civil War, toward the end of his life?"

Very smoothly Nero answered, "Ah, I'm sorry, Cloud, but I can't help you there."

He did not give a reason and Cloud asked, a bit awkwardly, "Why not? If anyone knows about Hojo I would think it's you and your brother?"

"Unfortunately much of Hojo's life is a mystery, even to us."

Cloud did not buy it one bit. "Surely you can help me at least a little bit? Anything you can tell me would help with my paper."

"I cannot. Apologies." Nero's voice was dangerous and low.

Cloud clenched his jaw. "Look, man—are you hiding something? 'Cause I don't believe you at all. There is no way you don't know anything at all about the man you have a whole foundation for. I—"

"I am a busy man," Nero interrupted, "and I don't have time to assist college students with papers. I am sure you understand."

"That's not—"

"I suggest you leave Hojo's research alone, Cloud. Trust me—it is in your best interest."

Nero hung up and Cloud gaped at his cell. Was he just threatened? "Holy shit," he breathed, and frantically scribbled a note in his notebook: Nero Hojo—hiding something.

What on Gaia was he supposed to make of that?

"Good evening," Cloud greeted Sephiroth a few hours later as he hurried across the still-muddy field to where the ghost was waiting. He had with him a cheap beach chair purchased at the corner drugstore as he didn't know if he could stand another night of standing while attempting to listen, write, and balance a flashlight so he could see all at the same time. "I brought my stuff with me today. I was thinking we could start working through biographies of your personal history and all, then move on to some literature about the war itself. It should help you a lot. I brought my favorite biography about you, actually—as far as I know mostly everything is accurate."

Cloud set up the chair and dropped into it, organizing his work and flashlight so he could do everything comfortably. He opened his Sephiroth biography to the first page; the book was dog-eared and covered in highlighted passages and notes. He looked up expectantly. Sephiroth was leaning forward with his hands on his knees, however, frowning at the book.

"Actually," he said once he had Cloud's attention, standing back up smoothly, "I was wondering if we could talk about something else instead tonight."

"Oh. Uh, yeah, of course." Cloud shut the book. "About what?"

"You."

"Me?"

Sephiroth nodded. "Tell me about yourself, Cloud Strife." He smiled and stuck his hands in his pants pockets. "I don't understand why you are trying so hard to help me. Who are you?" He shrugged one shoulder and looked out toward Nibelheim. "What is it like to be alive today?"

"Oh. Wow." Slightly mollified, Cloud thought as he forced his stuff back into his backpack and set it all on his lap. He turned off the flashlight partly because mosquitoes were swarming around the light but also because the moonlight was bright enough to chat under if not read and maybe because Sephiroth's question made him a little self-conscious.

"Well, my name is Cloud Strife," Cloud joked. "I'm 24. I live in Midgar. I wasn't born in Midgar. Actually the house where I grew up is about ten minutes that way." He pointed. "My mom is still there.

"As a kid I played out here a lot—saw all the monuments and plaques and stuff that told me about the Civil War battles. Your victories. About all the people who died. It really fascinated me, I guess. When I went to college I studied history." Cloud's cheeks warmed with a blush as he then severely downplayed his obsession with the man in front of him: "I was always particularly interested in you, actually."

"Why? All I did was kill people."

"That's not true," Cloud protested, "You're an inspiration! Everyone kills in war—you did what you were ordered to do."

Sephiroth did not answer but he didn't look like he believed him at all. Cloud hesitantly recounted the rest of his academic career and said that he was working on a First Class degree now. "That's me, I guess," he said nervously, trailing off into silence.

The General sat on the ground, and Cloud almost stopped him before realizing he was a ghost and couldn't get muddy. Cloud looked down at him while feeling strangely exposed—he did not want to reveal himself to his hero. He cared too much about what he thought.

"What about your friends?" Sephiroth asked softly, leaning back on his hands. "I told you about mine."

"I have a good amount," Cloud said with a smile. "My best friend is this guy named Reno." He did his best to summarize all of Reno's eccentricities and uniqueness in a few sentences and found it hard, and then told Sephiroth about Tifa who he grew up with, Aerith from Sector 5, Firion from the weapons shop and Yuffie, his study buddy. Sephiroth did not seem bored at all; he soaked up Cloud's words like a small child being read a story.

"And you're 24," he said after Cloud finished. "Are you married?"

Cloud snorted. "No." In Sephiroth's time people did marry a lot earlier, true. Arranged marriages were the norm as well, as evidenced with Scarlet. His smile faded and he added quietly, "I almost was once."

"Really?"

"Oh. Yeah." Cloud waved his hands like it was no big deal. "We broke up last October. It was a shame. I'm over it."

"To who?"

"Oh…" Cloud swallowed and glanced at Sephiroth. The ghost watched him evenly. "It was, uh…a classmate of mine, actually—it's pretty awkward. This guy named Squall." Then he hurriedly added, looking away, "It's—being gay or dating someone of the same gender—it's not like it was when you were alive. It's far more accepted these days than it was for you, so…if that grosses you out, sorry."

"You were going to marry a man?" Sephiroth asked, his eyes wide and every trace of his usual imposing self gone in his wonder and confusion.

"Yeah."

"That's legal?"

"As of about a year ago, yeah. Not everywhere in the world but on Gaia at least."

Sephiroth studied him for a moment and then offered, "I was in a relationship with Genesis. It is a shame attitudes were what they were."

Cloud's breath caught. Sephiroth waited calmly for Cloud to say something. There were rumors, yes, rumors that Cloud had studied extensively when figuring out his own sexuality as a teen and hoping that he could relate to his role model in another way, but nothing was definitive. Instead of feeling overwhelmed or upset or like Sephiroth was betraying the historical record he was just happy for him—happy that Sephiroth was able to experience something like that with Genesis, and happy that the General felt like he could trust Cloud with that information.

"I'm sorry you guys couldn't be together. You're right—it really is a shame."

Sephiroth pursed his lips. "I want to see him, Cloud."

"You will, Sir. I swear it. We'll get you there."

"Angeal and Zack too."

"I promise."

Sephiroth nodded, holding him to it.

The General then wanted to know about other aspects of Cloud's life—more about why he studied history, what his classes were like, and then smaller things about his life, his home, and his relationships. Sephiroth was…was dead, and Cloud had so much life to offer—so he put the thoughts of history and solving mysteries out of his mind for the moment and concentrated his energies on letting Sephiroth live, just the littlest bit, through him instead.

Rufus and Reno's antics made the ghost smile. Stories of Cloud's mother made him admit that he never knew any mother of his own. Aerith seemed like the kind of girl Zack would have gotten along well with, Sephiroth confided. Instead of monotonously offering information they had a conversation, an easy one with no goals that ebbed and flowed naturally as conversation did with old friends.

When Sephiroth faded away a time later he glowed—with happiness, with the slow recovery of his self, and even a small spark of life.