Monday 3:37 PM

Zack told me to meet him in the gym today after school, at 3:30. I still don't see him anywhere, but my attention has been caught. There's two guys on the far side of the gym, fencing. They're both about the same size, broad shoulders, lean and tall. However, one is taller, and he moves with more grace than the other, more ease and skill.

They've assembled quite a crowd too, each cheering on the two fighters. The shorter one laughs when he stumbles and falls, dodging a vicious strike from his opponent. I recognize that laugh.

"Zack?" I move forward, pushing my way through the line of people.

Zack is still laughing as I reach the front of the crowd, his face just below me as I stop at the edge of the mat. The mask stares blankly back at me, but he's still laughing.

"Hey! There you are, Teef!" his voice is muffled slightly, but he whips his hand up and pulls his mask off.

"What…what are you doing, Zack?"

"Fighting an intense battle, of course; for glory, honor…and perhaps a date?" he grins.

I roll my eyes, before reaching out to pull him up. He jumps as I pull him up, grinning widely.

"Zack…are you okay?"

"Perfect."

"You're sort of freaking me out, here."

"Zackary has quite the track record with that, miss," the other guy says, walking up.

Did he just call me 'miss'?

Strange.

The guy reaches up, pulling off his mask, and I am envious of his hair. It's long, probably just as long as mine if not longer, very healthy, and it's silver. Whoa. Nifty. I look up, meeting his eyes. He's got a strong face, serious expression, and green eyes.

Green.

"Ah, Ti, I'd like you to meet my older brother, Sephiroth."

I blink, surprised. I didn't even know Zack had a brother, and…what a name.

As if Zack reads my mind, he leans over into my ear, "Family name, you know…carry on the honor and what not. He's the fifth."

"Pleasure," Sephiroth the fifth extends his hand, and I shake it slowly, "I'm assuming you are the infamous Tifa Lockhart?"

"Nice to meet you, Sephiroth," I turn towards Zack, "Infamous?" I ask, confused.

Zack elbows his brother in the gut, or attempts as Sephiroth easily evades it.

"Oh wait; you just did a no no," Zack interrupts, patting his brother on the back, "Ya see, no one calls Sephiroth Sephiroth except for dad, cause he's all serious like. We like to call him Sephy."

I think I just heard Sephiroth growl.

Excuse me, Sephy.

Sephiroth turns his deadly gaze on his brother, and Zack gives a small laugh, "Or…rather, sometimes, we like to call him Sephy without the –y cause just the –y can really freaking piss him off. And, since we don't have the rights to use Sephy-kins—

"Zackary—

"Mother's choice name, we just call him Seph…to avoid death and disfiguration."

"O…kay…"

"I apologize for my brother's antics. I don't see how you put up with him," Sephiroth sighs, annoyed.

Zack throws an arm around my shoulders, "Oh, and another fun fact…Seph has massive vocabulary that will just…like…blow your mind. Crazy talk, that's what I call it. See, Seph here graduated a couple years ago. He's helping me out with fencing, so I can look more natural for the play."

"You do fencing on a regular basis?" I ask Sephiroth.

He nods his head curtly.

"And you didn't?" I ask Zack.

"Nope, I was more of a basketball kid. While I went to basketball practice, he went to fencing lessons. When I played video games, he memorized the dictionary."

Zack ducks a fist, playfully laughing it off.

"That's…interesting…I would've never figured you two for brothers," I state, noting the physical differences.

"Yes, get that a lot. I'm adopted," Zack grins.

Sephiroth rolls his eyes, a bored expression, "Wouldn't doubt it," he mutters.

"No, seriously, Seph just takes after mother-dearest. I take after pops," Zack states.

"Well, Zackary, since we are done here, I must get going."

Zack frowns, "Aw, already Seph?"

Sephiroth sighs, "Yes, already. So soon, I know…such a tragedy," he turns his attention to me, "It was a pleasure, Tifa."

I nod my head, "The same."

Zack, with his arm still around me, turns me, leading me out of the gym, "You smell," I say.

"Thank you."

"I didn't know you had a brother."

"Yep, he was the artsy smartsy type. They've still got a few of his paintings up around the school. For as cold, and stiff as he is, he's a really amazing painter."

"He did seem…different."

Zack frowned slightly, shrugging, "I know. He just takes a while to warm up to people. He's like…a genius, perfect…one of those guys. I'm in his shadow, tragic, I know. Seriously, though…he liked you."

"How can you tell? He was so…emotionless, other than bored and annoyed at you, which I could see why—

"Ouch."

"—how can you tell? I mean, he was polite and everything, but…he wasn't very friendly or warm."

Zack laughs, tipping his head back, "The people he doesn't like…"

"Yeah?"

"…He won't even look at them, let alone spare a few of his precious words to them."

Tuesday 12:53 AM

They say dreams are a way to escape from reality, even nightmares. I wish I had dreams; I wish I had nightmares, but I don't have nightmares.

I have memories.

My teeth are chattering, and I can't figure out if it's from being scared, or if it's cause I'm cold.

I curl up, wrapping my arms around me knees, shaking in the dark. It's good when it's dark, I can't see anything to scare me, and if there is something there, they can't see me.

But I can hear everything, and I know it's just my house settling, but I'm still freaking out. I wish my dad was awake, but he's downstairs, sleeping peacefully. So I'll just stay here, and sit, and wait it out.

How do you wait out a memory?

I can hear my cell phone going off, muffled and distorted through the door to my closet. There's barely enough room on the floor for me to sit and my clothes brush the top of my head, but I'm not moving. I forgot my cell phone when I ran from my bed. This is the seventh time it's gone off.

I felt too exposed, like anyone could just see me. I had to get away from that, I had to. My teeth are still chattering, and my knees are knocking together, so I bury my face in my knees, breathing heavily.

I'm happy, all things considered; after everything that's happened, I'm a relatively happy, positive person. I've got friends, and I've got my dad, and I love them. I'm a pretty good student, and I can kick ass, and I love my hair. I have a good life, I'm lucky.

I guess this is how it evens out then. I like the night time, and I like the moon and stars, and I like sleeping; trust me, I am not a morning person. Still, nighttime betrays me…I guess it's because I have time to remember, I have time to let my mind wander, and that's bad.

I wish my mother was here. When I would have nightmares as a kid, she'd lay down in bed with me until I fell asleep. Half the time, though, I would wake up when she left, and after she closed the door, I'd roll over to the spot where she'd been sleeping. It would still be warm, so it'd be like she was still there, and I wouldn't have another nightmare that night.

There is no warmth for me to curl up into anymore after I wake up from a memory. I can't even pretend that she's there anymore. There is no warmth.

The first footsteps I hear, I tell myself it's the house again, even though I don't believe it.

When the door to my closet opens, I close my eyes and wince, whether out of fear or the sudden change in light I don't know.

"Hey, hey now," his voice his soft as he kneels beside of me, "Tifa. Come on, it's okay."

He slips one arm beneath my knees, and another around my back, and grunts once as he lifts me up and out of my closet. He shushes me, and his breath ruffles my hair as I curl deeper into his chest.

This isn't the first time Cloud's done this. It certainly isn't the last time, either, probably. I always tell him not to, but he does anyway, and he knows that I always appreciate this.

Usually, when this happens, I remember to grab my cell phone, and either wait for Cloud to call me, or I'll call him.

This is the fifth time he's actually came over here and gotten me out of my closet.

Cloud and I are night owls, or rather, I'm a night owl, and Cloud suffers from insomnia. Normally talking on the phone helps to calm him down enough that he can rest, and I'm normally up anyways. Rarely will I fall asleep before he calls, but if I do, I'll wake up and answer my phone, anyways. That's how he knows something is off if I don't answer the phone.

He sets me down in my bed, and I stare straight ahead, his hand still resting on my back.

"You okay?"

I nod my head slowly, "Did you put the key back?"

"Yes."

I nod my head again, "You didn't have to come."

He smirks, "It was only...what, five minutes?" his smirk falls, and his eyes become concerned, "Do you want to talk about it?"

I nod my head no.

"Are you still cold?"

He really doesn't even need to ask these questions anymore, they're always the same answer. Still, he does, and when I nod my head yes, he wraps my blanket around my shoulders, and throws an arm around me, and I hug him, and lean against him, desperate for warmth, and a friend.

I wake up for a moment, when he brushes my hair off my forehead. I crack an eye to see him walking towards my bedroom door, tiptoeing softly across the carpet, and shutting the door even softer behind him, glancing up to make sure I didn't wake.

When I hear him start his motorcycle up, I roll over to the side of the bed he was sitting on, and pretend he's still there.

A/N: Been a while, I know. I know last chapter was short, and this one was a bit, but hopefully the addition of Seph will make it all better. Weren't expecting that, were you? Anyways, I love all the reviews, you're all so kind. Thank you, seriously, that's what keeps me motivated for this story. As long as you keep reading, I"ll keep writing. Anyways, that last part isn't necessairily suppose to be romantic. If you wish, you can take it that way, or not, it's just suppose to show you how close they are.