The clogged air in the alley was somehow less oppressive than the perfumed club, and Cloud exhaled sharply once he was alone with his thoughts. He had no desire to celebrate, no wont for company in this place, and he especially couldn't stomach companionship here. He couldn't afford attachments, not even with Tifa.

Especially not with her.

They'd grown up together, or rather, were neighbors as kids. They weren't close in those days, but hell had a habit of making strangers instant bedfellows. Pain and anguish brought them together and chained them down, and it was a connection Tifa and Cloud would never escape. He was certain of that now more than ever.

In another life though… He would have found a lot of comfort in her closeness if circumstances were different. They were different, in fact, until coming to Midgar. He was in love with her then, he was pretty sure. Meeting Zack, and in turn Aerith, changed everything and even now he felt swept away by the tide. Tifa was still on the shore, she still had a chance, he wagered. Cloud wouldn't let her get dragged into the undertow if he could help it, even when she looked at him with those pleading eyes like she was already drowning. What was a little more water in her lungs, she'd say.

The fervency stabbed at him, guilt flaying more flesh from his poor bones. Tifa would lash herself to him without Cloud needing to ask because she loved him. He knew she did, and while his younger self was idiotically oblivious, it was impossible to miss it now. Maybe if he'd realized back then, while they were still young and trying to pick up the pieces of their obliterated lives, they never would have come here. It was pointless to dwell though, because here they were.

He'd share their mutual revenge with her, he wouldn't dare shut her out of that. But Zack… and Aerith… They were his. He was going to burn the whole Syndicate down, and he wanted Tifa to be standing well away from the wreckage.

She had a chance, after all. Maybe a life could be made out of the ashes if she wanted it. She deserved that more than anyone, after all.

He didn't anymore. Didn't want, nor deserve it after all the blood and lies and rage. The means unjustified the ends, but he would have his ends. Cloud would watch the life leave Sephiroth's eyes, and he would set Aerith free. Saving her couldn't possibly absolve him of everything, but it was the only absolution he wanted or needed. And it was selfish as it was.

He knew she'd give it, without hesitation. His heart ached in his chest at the thought, and his altered blood blazed in his veins. A moan was strangled in his throat as he doubled over, grasping at his skull. He gripped his head as if he could squeeze the pain out of his temples with his bare hands. Then his vision doubled, and his ears began to ring.

These fucking side effects would probably kill him before he ever got to Sephiroth at this rate. It would probably serve him right.

"Mister… you okay?" It was a young man's voice cutting through the sound of blood pulsing in his eardrum.

Shit.

With severe effort, Cloud straightened, and his gloved hands dropped to grip the brick wall behind him. His eyes were still screwed shut, and he could feel the heat on the back of his lids, but some of the pain ebbed away with his intense focus.

"Mister?" The kid sounded worried, but extremely suspicious.

"Yeah, yeah kid, I'm fine…" he ground out. There was a beat, and he could feel the boy's disbelief radiating off him.

"You don't look fine. You overdosing on somethin'?" There was a distinct curl of distaste at the mention of drugs, and it forced Cloud's eyes open out of instinct. The kid gasped and flinched back, fear and awe warring across his face as he watched the blond man fight his internal battle. His attention was locked on Cloud's eyes though, and the mobster knew what was captivating him. It was the neon glow of his cerulean blue eyes, and the way his pupil now bisected the iris like a slit.

"Rude to stare, kid." Cloud managed to regain some of his grit, and the wonder on the sandy-haired lad's face fell away along with the luminescence that'd transfixed him, the horrifying blue eyes returning to normal.

"Wh-what was that?" His little frame shrank in on itself as if he were gauging how dangerous a wounded animal was. Cloud crossed his arms defensively across the sweater pulling over his broad chest, even as he fought the desire to reassure this street kid. He was young, too young to be out here this time of night, and it was obvious he had nowhere to go, no one waiting for him with a hot meal. Some of the rigidity went out of Cloud, and his shoulders relaxed.

"I've got a medical condition."

His young face twisted up at that, and suddenly he looked like he wanted to fight.

"You're lying, I know Shinra drugs when I see 'em!" he accused. It was hardly a rare thing, seeing as how a person couldn't walk a block in these dark alleys without tripping over someone trading their life force for a few blissfully altered hours of consciousness. But nonetheless, Cloud felt for the boy.

"What's your name?" He knelt, still in his mission fatigues, to get at eye level with the young man. It was the softened tone of voice that did most of the disarming, though. Indecision flickered in those large, equally blue eyes as he stared down the much more intimidating adult.

"Denzel."

"I'm gonna tell you a secret, Denzel." Cloud was gravely serious, and the boy leaned in, suddenly invested in what the man was about to say. "I'm going to destroy Shinra. For good."

Unadulterated hope flooded Denzel's entire being, and he fidgeted with nervous energy. He wasn't sure why, but he believed Cloud with every fiber of his little body. "But… you are Shinra… aren't you…?"

Something unnamable flashed through the kyodai, and he dropped his gloved hand on the boy's shoulder. "Yeah. But only to take them down. It's an inside job."

A smile lit Denzel like a thousand watt light bulb, and he gripped his little fists in barely restrained excitement. Now he really did look like he wanted to fight, but this time it wasn't Cloud. After a moment, some of the brightness faded, and his lips turned down at the edges thoughtfully.

"Does that mean you'll go down too?" His voice was small, and it caused Cloud to sigh, bowing his head.

"It might. But that's what heroes have to do." It was the only response he could give. Referring to himself as a hero might be a bitter joke, but Cloud could at least be confident that his intentions were pure at their core, even if he himself couldn't claim to be. Not anymore.

Someone slammed a door open with the clank of a crash bar, disrupting the relative quiet of the scene. "Oi, Cloud! Yer girlfriend's got next round up! Come on!" Cloud stood, yet his hand remained on Denzel's shoulder.

"Roger, I'll be just a minute." He watched carefully as the steel portal latched closed once more, again sealing in the noise he was outside trying to escape. Silence spread a few moments before his gaze fell back on the kid. "Be careful around this neighborhood, kid. Anyone messes with you, you let me know." Denzel nodded, naked admiration shining through his wide eyes.

When Cloud broke away and didn't re-enter the club, the boy stared after him. The strange blond mobster sauntered off into the fog of the night, pointedly disinterested in carousing with his cohorts and drawing an inescapable distinction between them.

For some reason, it made Denzel feel much better. "Cloud…"


A/N: Sorry for the weird, random chapter lengths. There is only a hint of rhyme or reason for that.

Oyabun = Family Head, Father, Leader

Kumicho = Operational Leader (in charge of managing rest of the kobun, and executing the oyabun's desires)

Kobun = All Members (general term used to describe the entire body of the family organization)

Saiko-komon = Senior Advisors

So-honbucho = Headquarters/Section Chief

Waka-gashira = First Lieutenant (regional gang leader)

Shatei-gashira = Second Lieutenant (gang leader)

Shingiin = Legal Affairs (assumed law enforcement liaison and PR manager)

Kaikei = Accountant

Kyodai = Team Captain (referred to often as Big Brother out of respect)

Shatei = Lowest level (referred to as Little Brothers, often young and inexperienced)