Cloud lingered outside of the Inn, that sense of foreboding gripping him again. He'd felt strangely uneasy saying goodbye to his mother when he'd left, and he couldn't help but feel as if he would never see her again. It was childish nonsense, he knew, but he couldn't shake the strange feelings that this town awoke in him. It seemed like ever since he'd returned, something was pressing at the back of his head, tickling through his mind. Not enough to make him worry, just enough that his head ached slightly and he felt out of sorts.

He lifted his hand to his temple and turned to go inside, nearly running full-force into none other than General Sephiroth.

"Sir," he said, saluting smartly, hiding in formality, in protocol.

"Sergeant Strife," Sephiroth said, and even in just pajama pants there was such an air of command about him that Cloud jumped a little at the lash-like quality of his voice. "Out rather late, are you not?"

"You said it was a free night, Sir," Cloud answered, standing at stiff attention, his hands clenched at his sides. "I used it accordingly."

"And where have you been?" Sephiroth purred, and the dangerous suspicion in his low voice confused Cloud. Surely the man didn't think he would return to Nibelheim and not see his mother again?

Out of sheer, stubborn spite, he abruptly said, "Sir, you gave us time to do what we wished, and I used it. How I used it is none of your concern."

"And was Isaac with you, Cloud?" Sephiroth murmured, a faint, unhappy smile curving up the corners of his mouth.

Cloud's lips thinned with anger and he snapped, "General Sephiroth, Sir, my personal life has stopped being at the mercy of your curiosity since over a year ago. Please, Sir, with all due respect, do not ask me such questions again. The past should remain in our memories, and not taint what shaky working relationship we currently have – "

"I'll never be reduced to a memory for you, Cloud Strife," Sephiroth said, his eyes fierce. "I branded you and held you, I took your body, your heart, your very soul. So remember who you are speaking to, my little Eromenos! Because if I so willed it, you would be back on your knees right where you belong, begging me to touch you!"

Cloud recoiled slightly as if Sephiroth had struck him, his brows drawing down in anger.

"Where I belong, Sir, is as far from you as possible!" he snapped, and made as if to move past him, appalled by his outrageous behavior and alarmed because this was not the man he knew, not even by the smallest margin.

Sephiroth caught his arm and yanked him close, murmuring suddenly, "You belong with me, Cloud – now and always."

"Stop this!" Cloud hissed, flustered and afraid. Yes, afraid! Even through his hurt and anger he was still terrified that Sephiroth might somehow find the crack in his defenses, might somehow bring him once more to tearful capitulation. He gazed up at the taller man with fierce, angry blue eyes and said, "I am nothing to you, Sephiroth!"

He pulled away, but only because the General's hand had suddenly grown lax on him, had loosened with shock. He turned to go inside, his heart pounding in mingled anger and shame, and nearly screamed with frustration when Sephiroth murmured, "You are everything to me, Cloud Strife."

Cloud fisted his hands over his eyes and moaned, "I can't do this again…I can't let you tell me lies and hope that one day they'll be true! I am nothing but a body, a thing without a heart, without any value – "

He felt Sephiroth's hand touch his back, deceiving in its gentleness. How the man lured him in, time and time again, and always with the smug arrogance of knowing Cloud would give in.

"Cloud," Sephiroth breathed, and the silvery moonlight caressed his pearly skin, made his hair shine as if lit from within. He was so beautiful to Cloud when he turned to face him, denial and terror and longing fighting for position on his tense features.

"I warned you," he said, his voice cracking on a warbling sob. "I warned you that you would never have my love! I don't care how much you use that thing Genesis gave you! I will never offer it again!"

He laughed bitterly, reminding himself that Sephiroth had no need of it. Indeed, the man had always been adamant that the last thing he wanted was access to Cloud's heart, was his love. What love could a pathetic, broken, almost-man offer a General who had anyone at his beck and call? What could Cloud ever possess that Sephiroth would ever desire?

The man just watched him, his jade eyes aglow, light gleaming on his naked chest. The air was cold this late in the evening, but Sephiroth showed no sign of discomfort. He simply stood there, looking at Cloud with something that might've been regret if he were anyone but the man he was.

"Just let it go," Cloud whispered, shaking his head. "If you ever felt even the smallest bit of regard for me, Sephiroth…Whatever games you wish to play, whatever ugly pleasure you take from my misery, just let it go."

The tall, fierce General gazed steadily at him and quietly said, "I cannot."

"What would you have me do?" Cloud asked, desperate and furious. "I have ceased to exist for you for the last year and more! How dare you imply that anything is any different! You left me when I needed you most! When I needed you to hold me, you ran away! Why are you doing this?"

One graceful hand lifted to touch his trembling chin, and the man whispered, "Because I must."

Shaking, Cloud whispered, "That isn't enough. Not anymore. I'm not a child, Sephiroth."

"Don't I know it," the General said, and there was a touch of sad amusement to his voice, a kind of soft wistfulness that unexpectedly moved Cloud. He would rather die than show it, but the idea that Sephiroth had regrets about what had happened and how made Cloud's hard armor crack just slightly. The hand touching his face dropped, brushing down his chest as it fell back to Sephiroth's side.

"Can't you just say you're sorry?" Cloud whispered, wondering why it was so hard for such a strong, glorious man to grasp the simplicities of such basic interaction.

Sephiroth started, his muscles tightening and a strange look falling over his face.

"Is that all it would take, Cloud?" he murmured. "A show of contrition? Words to knit together your wounds?"

Cloud shook his head softly and said, "It would be a start. Even if you never felt anything for me, even if this has been all some kind of cruel, sick entertainment for you, don't you think I deserve an apology for being the butt of such a joke? I didn't know any better, and you took advantage of that. I will admit that my own ignorance is at fault for most of it, but can't you take even a portion of the blame?"

Sephiroth's soft mouth twisted with bitter amusement and he said, "Blame? I see what I have wrought with you, Cloud. I see the damage begun by your mother and finished by my own hand. When I first saw you, I wanted nothing more than to protect you. I felt I would do anything to make sure that nothing interfered with your happiness…yet I myself have been the author of so many of your tragedies…"

Cloud stopped breathing altogether. He stood there in the shadow of the inn's stoop and stared at Sephiroth, unblinking, unmoving. He had expected many things from his ex-lover, from this man who was always more cruel than kind, but never had he expected this.

Sephiroth turned his head away, gazing over the empty square bathed in moonlight, the silver light lending charm to what was otherwise dull and ordinary. And that was how Cloud felt when the man looked at him – something dull and ordinary painted in hues of the divine.

"I stayed away to keep you safe, Cloud," he whispered, his voice low and distant. "You had been terribly harmed by me, and my pride was stronger than my judgment. I had hoped that in my absence you would heal and be happy, but I see that you are not whole. It doesn't surprise me."

Cloud blinked then, startled to find warmth in his eyes, too weary to be angered by it, too surprised by Sephiroth's admission to even think of it.

Sephiroth sighed, then, and said, "How can you be whole when you lack a part of yourself? And do not deny it, Cloud – I am a part of you."

Cloud shivered but said nothing, waiting in suspended breathlessness for something, anything

"I will not be without you," the man breathed, and his fine features were solemn, stoic, determined. "Whatever I must do to prove to you that I need you, I will do. Be it kneel at your feet or tear the world to pieces with the force of my feelings for you – I will do it. For you."

Cloud took a reflexive breath but it was short, gasping, thin. The jade eyes turned to his were glowing, languid, somehow not as Cloud remembered them. As if Sephiroth had been hiding a part of himself and it had only now shown itself.

And still, the man gazed at him, silent and steady.

"I…I…"

In a heartbeat he was reduced to a stammering child, pared down to the terrified teen who had first felt the brush of passion at the same fingertips now slipping over his cheek. How had he changed so much in the intervening years and yet stayed so fundamentally the same? Drawn over and again to the same false promises, but always with the pointless hope that this time they would be true.

Sephiroth said nothing more, those glowing jade eyes spoke volumes of sadness and regret…and loneliness, yes. Cloud knew it well enough to call it home; he recognized it in this arrogant, cold man who had always been such a force of destructive change in his life.

Like so often in the past, in so many places where Cloud later wished he had pulled away and fled, Sephiroth drew close to him and bent his noble head.

And Cloud, once again, did not pull away.