Author's Notes: Plot stuff! Fun, fun plot stuff! And a little bit of angst... I'm sorry about so much of it, but it'll all stop eventually, I promise! Next chapter will be somewhat happy... I haven't planned on having this go on for so long, and I almost want to scrap it but for the sake of FINISHING something for once, I will continue.

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There was no safe haven from monsters on the roads. Sephiroth was actually more accustomed to marauders than monsters. The few creatures that he saw were small, meaningless dwarf creatures with gaping stupid faces that made him want to kick them around before killing them outright.

Then he thought about Cloud. He was as powerful as he remembered. Maybe a little less. He grew stronger under the duress of the journey of defeating him... but that felt like a non-memory, a distant flashback that no longer really held significance. The work was relatively easy. He still recovered from his trials even though he was riding out almost once every two days. Spare time allowed him to walk alone in the streets of Seway and make himself at home in the cafes and taverns filled with friendly laughter and smiling faces. Often Cloud insisted that he join him.

It was good to sit next to someone and talk. It was awkward; what would he say to Cloud? But it seemed they talked nothing more than of the weather, about the people. Often they talked about their past. Sephiroth was less enthusiastic about relating his story. In fact, he never told Cloud exactly how he came to be here in this world at all. He figured if he brought it up, it would jinx the peace he had obtained and cause havoc, even if Ansem promised protection.

He never saw or heard about Hikaru. But he always listened for tales of the yellow-eyed demon, that lust-filled monstrosity wrapped in a man's body. He could almost remember the touch of him close-by, like serpent-flesh on his skin whenever he touched him. And he smelled like death and roses.

Cloud watched him drinking his water, he himself now deep in thought. The conversation was halted, since Sephiroth's eyes had wandered and then finally closed at the mention of someone's name. Zack. Another ghost from a distant, irrelevant past. What a waste of time.

What the hell could be on his mind that he just shuts me out? Then...well, he always did that to me. It's nothing new to me. But he talks so readily, almost like a normal man. If there's anything he's hiding, would it matter for the safety of the town... of the world? Cloud chewed the inside of his cheek, trembled a little and dug his hands into his pockets, leaning back in the wooden chair. The tavern was full up with the warmth of the living. Sephiroth smelled like soap and mint, intoxicating with the trace of sweat and leather.

"Trouble seems to follow you everywhere," Cloud commented blithely, laughing to himself. "Just... a clue would do me fine. I don't know what's on your mind, but if you'd just tell me the jist of it..."

You don't have to be afraid, a voice said in Sephiroth's heart. You can speak my name. He'll remember the coliseum, death, suffering, but I don't think it will matter now. Too much has happened for him to make any judgments.

He has always judged me. I deserved it. Please stop pushing me toward him, Ansem...

"Are you going to say something?"

Sephiroth's blood chilled slightly and he panicked. What would he say? He swallowed, tipping more water into his mouth before he set the glass down, making the chair squeak as he leaned forward, pressing a palm to his forehead in a display of indecision. "Lost someone important to me. We loved each other. He's gone now. There's nothing I can do about it now except live. I was tortured, mutilated, by the Heartless until he came. Ansem."

"Ansem?" Cloud was unconvinced. "Ansem came to save you? From the Heartless?"

"There are other worlds than these. You know that. It may not have been the same one. Maybe there are twins or something. You never know... but he told me about what he had done. Yes, he saved me. This world was full of the dead -- mindless pale walking things that felt nothing, saw nothing. They were empty shells... what was left of the living... somehow we got away. We followed the light."

Cloud shifted his legs. Uncomfortable but avid, nothing distracting him from the other man's pensive face, he too scooted his chair in and bent his head close to his. "How the hell did you get here? What happened?"

So Sephiroth related his story. It was long and somewhat detailed, and briefly Cloud had to get up and stretch occasionally. It wasn't choppy, the tale consistent to what he said before, and obviously omitting some things that were meant to be left out. In the end, the tavern was empty and Cloud was sprawled, his feet propped up against another chair and his hands knitted together at the back of his head.

"...and here I am."

Cloud tilted his head. "...Ansem is... running around the universe, 'fixing' things?"

"I know not what he does. Only that he isn't flesh and blood anymore, not until his job is 'done'... so the Source had spoken. I'm not sure what happens after that. I don't suppose Hikaru will appear again." Sephiroth looked tired. He appeared as though every word was a mile and he had traveled each one with perseverance.

The blonde man was still trying to absorb all that had been said. Especially the part about loving someone. He wasn't going to say that Sephiroth was below loving, or incapable of the emotion. It was just impossible to imagine. Sephiroth was supposed to be the untouchable villain, rotten to the core -- downright evil, if you really want to know the truth.

He felt a rise of pity choke his throat slightly. This man was hurting somehow, in some way. If Ansem still had any influence in his life, in one way or another, it would most likely be to haunt him. One way or another, Ansem was gone again. It was apparent on Sephiroth's face that something was happening that made his despair grow deeper, like a great chasm that expanded the longer he stayed in Mr. Rin's business.

"I'm sorry to have asked you... I've pestered you too much already. Let's go home, man, okay?" Cloud stood up, offering his hand before pausing to rethink the gesture. It looked too friendly. Too close. The thoughts raced in his head that he merely looked like one man helping another to get up out of a chair that was clearly too small for him. Or maybe Sephiroth was too tall.

In either case Sephiroth fought a secret, brief battle within before he took his hand and stood up. The contact was warm and somehow static, reminding Cloud that Sephiroth wasn't thinking down the same stretch of highway that he was. It shocked him; was Sephiroth somehow trying to replace the new-dug void in himself with something? Was that why he kept hiding his eyes whenever Cloud looked at him?

What did Cloud actually feel anyway? Besides the pity, the understanding... but no satisfaction at all for Sephiroth's torment. The man had suffered since the day he was born - why should Cloud be happy about it? How could anyone smile triumphantly at any suffering? He was done with wanting revenge and sifting through his mind for ways to gratify his anger.

This man needed someone. He needed Cloud.

"You need a friend, Sephiroth," Cloud said, in all seriousness. "Let me be one. I want to be your friend." In this statement, the weight of friendship, kindness and honesty was carried by a note of sadness and acceptance. Nothing felt as good - or as bad - to hear such a thing.

Cloud clapped a hand over his shoulder.. having to reach up quite a space, but he did it, and felt the taut bone and muscle twitch and flex spontaneously. Sephiroth stepped away after a minute and walked to the door, with the other man on his heels like a guardian angel.

Why?

What do you mean why? Trust me. Sephiroth, please...

He bent his head down, toward the grass, laying in the small garden, curtained by willow trees in a bed of soft sweet grass, the sun flirting with his eyes as it flashed in between the branches and warmed the place he'd found. He wanted to rest, tired after his exercises, to keep his mind busy while he thought. Now the hilt of the sword was resting against his arm, sheathed in a pure black leather wrap.

He appeared to be alone, but only his eyes saw that Ansem was sitting next to him, stroking his hair, golden eyes focused purely on the other man's face with a fixated loving gaze.

"I want you to trust me," Ansem told him. "Talk to Cloud. He really does want to be your friend. I love you. I love you, Sephiroth, understand? I know what I'm telling you."

The man closed his eyes, shivering. "Why can't you just stay here?"

"I am here... but I'm...not. I'm... I'm like a ghost. And like a ghost, I can do certain things... but it takes a common ground to do something like that. And some deal of cooperation... and to do this, you must cooperate with me."

Seph's eyes opened again, and he sat up, laying the weapon aside and pressing himself to the other's side, raking his fingertips over his shoulder. His mouth found a place to call home against his neck, kissing and pressing occasionally while he crooned deep in his throat. It was only a minute, but Ansem touched his cheek, trailing his fingers to his chin to lift his face.

"You loved him... some things have changed. Cloud does not hate you... and he is smarter, older now. There's no reason why you should hold back."

Once again Ansem had succeeded in silencing him. He felt his hands smooth the senseless saline water that dripped down his cheeks, felt his lips on his ear as he said good-bye and slowly Ansem was gone from him again, watching all the time, a god of time and space and touch. Gone. Sephiroth shivered once again, pressing his face into the grass, breathing in and trying to remember how his touch had felt the night Ansem had prolonged his stay.

"This is different," he said wistfully. "I've never been 'this' kind of crazy before..." He rolled onto his back, realizing he'd been crying way too much.

He heard footsteps.

"Anybody home?" a familiar voice called.

Sephiroth hurriedly swept his shirt over his eyes, realizing he made the white fabric obscene gray-spotted. He grimaced, but only to look up, seeing Cloud walking the stone path then onto the grass, wearing just blue jeans and a white tee-shirt. He looked around, his gaze falling on the silver-haired man who sat in the shade, red eyes and shivering.

"I tell you this as a friend," Sephiroth said quickly, holding up his hand. Then he lowered it and spoke more evenly. "I... don't know what to do."

Cloud walked close. He sat down, one leg out, one knee close to his chest as he watched him, picking a bit of grass. "What do you mean?"

Quietly Sephiroth moved closer. He didn't want to frighten him. Jesus, if he screwed this up... he wanted to do what Ansem asked. He had no idea what he was trying to do for him. Or how he would do it. Whatever it was. But Ansem had vanished and he didn't care anymore who was close to him. "Sometimes a person doesn't understand anything... like right now."

"Do what you feel is alright. Something that won't necessarily make anyone else too uncomfortable. If it seems right, then try it out. And if it's not the right thing, don't flip out," Cloud offered amiably, under no idea that Sephiroth was inching closer.

"I was told... that I should move on," the older man said quietly, rubbing his elbow. "All that I've ever had that I loved is gone. There's one thing that is really still within my reach... and even if it was within my power to pursue, should I have it?"

"Are you asking me?" Cloud chuckled, cut short with a slight choking sound. There was Sephiroth again, close enough to touch his hair. The two of them were barely far enough apart to be two separate people. Cloud hadn't even felt him come so near. But he was all suddenly aware of the breath on his ear and the pulsing throb of someone else's heart near his shoulder.

The next moment Sephiroth stood up, withdrawing like some ghost out of a fairytale. A terrible expression dominated his features, torn apart by two dueling desires. But he walked off, stiff-shouldered and quite honestly leaving Cloud confused, seated on the grass with a reddened face.

After a moment he ambled to his feet and rubbed the back of his neck, unable to shake the feeling that something wasn't right. Someone else was out here with him, even though Sephiroth had gone. What in the hell was he thinking, trying to be Sephiroth's friend? Was he crazy, even still? Or just desperate?

Another voice, somewhere from outside or maybe from deeper inside of his consciousness whispered, Don't pretend you don't know he cares about you, and always has. Don't break his heart because you're having doubts. Take your own advice.