When Cloud woke up, he was in a bed, and there were plugs in his ears. It was warm, and he lifted his head to find that he was in his underwear and not that dressed, and his feet were rid of those heels, but even if he moved them, they still were rather sore.

He looked around at his surroundings and blurry as they were, he knew he was at Tifa's house. He looked down at his blankets and noticed that they hadn't been changed since he had left that afternoon. He was also aware that it was light outside again.

Getting out of bed, he received a head rush from standing up too fast. He rested his forehead in his hands for a moment to adjust. He waited until the room was clearer to his eyes, and then he decided to try and walk. His clothes, the regular ones, were laid out for him on the chair. He decided that was a nice gesture and he put them on.

He walked into the main room barefoot, because he had been too lazy to put on his boots. There was a smell wafting in the room, and he was starting to realize exactly how hungry he was.

Walking over to where his nose led him, he found a plate of leftovers from two nights ago, and they had been reheated and set out the night before. They were, of course, cold now. He put them back in the microwave and set them to three minutes on high. There was a note under the paper.

"Dear Cloud, It's me, Tifa. I was going for a walk and found you... I know you're not feeling to well right now, and you were obviously drunk, so I won't ask any questions unless you want to tell me what happened. Don't worry, Marlene and Denzel didn't see you. I thought you might be hungry when you woke, so I left out some things... You didn't wake up last night though. I'll be back after I send Marlene and Denzel to the bus stop for school. Help yourself."

The microwave beeped and he retrieved his fresh-hot meal out of it. He grabbed a fork out of the drying rack and dug in, walking over to one of the tables and sat down in the chair.

Halfway through his meal, the door opened and Tifa walked in the bar. "Hey Cloud... so you're finally up, huh? You must've had a lot of alcohol... I don't think I've seen you drunk, ever."

"Me neither... You know, I think I feel really stupid now." He gave a forced laugh. "I must have looked like a complete idiot..."

"I must admit, you did. However, pink and gold are really good colors on you. Even though you were asleep at the time... You would have made a beautiful girl, Cloud." As she moved, her earrings tinkled.

He shrugged. "I... made a mistake, okay? I'm entitled to those most of the time." He shook his head. "I'd take it back if I could, alright?" He got up after finishing his leftovers. "I just... had a hard night..."

"It's okay, Cloud... I know this has to be hard on you. And I know that I haven't been very supportive of you recently... You must hate me for getting so emotional... It's just... I knew it was over long ago, but I just... never wanted to admit it to myself, I guess..."

"It's none of your fault, Tifa. You were a good person... I... Everything's my fault. I never deserved you... and I don't deserve Sephiroth. I don't deserve to be happy... I cause everyone else pain..." He sighed as he got up. "Thanks for the food, but I think I'm going to be leaving now."

"You should stay for a little bit, Cloud... You're still a little hung over. You should get some more rest or something. Did you have enough to eat? Would you like me to heat up something else? Would you like me to make you anything else?"

"That's sweet, but... I think I'm just going to go, now." He started walking towards the exit. "Thank you, Tifa, for everything. Maybe... if Sephiroth never existed, things between us wouldn't have fallen apart."

"And if it weren't for Sephiroth, I wouldn't have realized that I was in love with you. I know it sounds weird, but as sad as I am, a part of me is relieved." She smiled warmly towards him to make sure he understood.

"Yeah, because now you can be with someone who can focus all his attention on you," he replied. "I'll be going now, for real."

With that last statement, he walked out of the door of Seventh Heaven for more times in the last two days than he could remember doing for the last few years. He had left so quickly that he didn't hear Tifa's "Come back safely."

He realized that Fenrir was outside the stairs of Seventh Heaven in their nonexistent parking lot. So maybe he was wrong; someone was able to hijack Fenrir. Except, that was probably because Tifa had found the keys in his pants pocket.

Getting on, he started the ignition, and before long, he was on his road back home... The landscape passed quickly. All of it was a dull murky gray-brown, just like it had when he had come. Except, in the last two days, it had gotten slightly colder.

He just went faster, and the faster he went, the colder he became. Gloved as his hands were, they soon became slightly frozen and they slightly stung of pain, but at least they weren't numb yet. Faster, faster, faster. The wind whipped through his hair and felt like it was slapping him in the face.

He finally stopped as he reached his front door. He got his keys out and opened the door... And it felt just as chilly inside as it was outside. He kept walking in, and turned on the heat...

When he walked into his kitchen, he noticed that the window was wide open, and there were leaves in the floor. Apparently, he had left them open for the whole time that he was gone, but... He had definitely remembered closing them the night that he had received the phone call from Tifa... Yeah, he definitely closed the window. He reasoned that he had probably forgotten to lock it and the wind pushed it open.

He cleared his sink and floor from the leaves, pushing them all into the trashcan next to his drain. He put the trashcan back where it belonged, and washed his hands. It was a beautiful day outside, if a cold one. He could hear the birds singing familiar melodies, and thought that they should have been migrating instead.

His bed was extremely comfortable after nights of neglect. It was slightly cool, but the down feathers conformed to his weight, and in a matter of minutes, it was toasty warm. He closed his eyes, stopping to think for a minute how much he had been sleeping lately, and how that wasn't healthy, but ignored it. Regardless of how much he had slept lately, he was still extremely tired.

Besides, after that night in Wallmarket, he deserved it. He thought that he had learned from his lesson and would never dress up like a girl again... But no, he just couldn't have resisted. He laughed under his breath at how ridiculous that whole ordeal had been.

He closed his eyes, but for the present time being, sleep eluded him. The only thing he thought of was: "Not again..." as he turned to his side. He hated how tired he was yet how lacking his brain was in the knowledge of that feeling.

Giving up, he got up to go make himself some tea. At least, if he wasn't going to sleep, he could become energized. He decided then, that he should probably go out for a little workout afterward.

He picked up his kettle, but to his surprise, the water inside was still near-steaming hot. He decided not to question it, and poured water and tea into a mug. He hadn't remembering taking the mug out of the cupboard or the ginger oolong tea leaves out, but apparently he had a very short-term memory, because they were already laid out for him.

He sat back down on his sofa while waiting for his tea to settle. Evidently he had put the pillows back where they belonged, closed his magazine, and put it back on the rack. No, it was different. He had also apparently put them in chronological order and categorized them by name.

Now he was suspicious. Whoever had come in his house and done all these things had not only been in there recently, but whoever it was had not been malign at all. He got up to go check out the rest of his house, and to his surprise, nothing was stolen or destroyed. In fact, everything was in a better order than he had left it. The fireplace had been dusted, the silverware polished, and all his laundry had been done.

He finished his tea and walked outside to see that the leaves in his lawn, too, had been raked up. Or it was more likely that they had just disappeared, because there wasn't even sign that they had ever existed. It was obvious to him that whoever it was had done this while he was drinking his tea, and therefore, could not have gone very far.

In fact, by his measurement of time, they really should have still been in the nonexistent neighborhood, which meant, by the lack of houses and things marring the landscape, whoever it was had to have been in range of eyesight. This, of course, they weren't.

Cloud started running anyway, sword in hand. He'd make a few laps around his surroundings before he started training. He surmised that he had run about three miles before he stopped to do a little stretching. After all, it was probably due to the fact that it was cold and he hadn't stretched at the start that he was already starting to tire.

After that, he stopped to catch his breath. He sat down on the barren ground to think for a minute on who the phantom benefactor was. Maybe it had been Tifa, since apparently she had been in the area lately... Though as fast as she was, she wouldn't have been able to run to Kalm within that time being. Also, she probably would have knocked on Cloud's door for a little break, and it just was unlike her to go out of her way so much for absolutely no reason.

He got up again to do some basic SOLDIER move practices. After a few thrusts and simple maneuvers, he wished that he could have someone to practice parrying with. He decided to try it anyway, and he could have sworn that when he did, he met some resistance.

Confused for a moment, he reached out a hand to try and see if anything invisible had barred the way. Nothing... The air, like always, was intangible. There was absolutely nothing solid about it. He waved his arm around. Nothing.

He tried to parry the nothingness again, and when he did, he was met with so much force that he flew backwards and slammed, about twenty feet to the left from his beginning point.

"Thanks," he muttered under his breath. He got up and dusted himself off. "Maybe a little less maiming next time, please," he added. Thistles wavered past in apology.

Cloud smiled a little in knowing that Sephiroth was there with him. At least, he hoped Sephiroth was there with him, and it wasn't just another cruel joke to be played at his expense.

He tried sparring with the air, and it was nice, but the problem was, he couldn't see his opponent. However, every blow he made, it was met. After a few minutes or so, he could almost make out a faint outline of a glowing green. It was almost as if he could see his aura, but he had to squint to see it... and every time he noticed it and it registered in his mind, it would disappear.

After a little longer, he was tired. There was a stitch in his side and he felt like he was about to lose. He paused for a bit, but something tapped at his sword. "Come on, I'm tired... lemme rest for a bit," he said, trying to catch his breath. Masamune pushed against the Ultima weapon hard enough to knock Cloud off balance. "I said knock it off!"

Sephiroth didn't let up the fight, though. Not that easily. Cloud thought he could hear the wind slowing, but he knew that the other man could keep going easily for another hour.

Cloud stood, waved his hand to the air, and stopped. To his surprise, he thought that he heard leather moving and supposed Sephiroth was loosening himself, becoming less tense. He gulped and stood up, which used up a bit of effort. "I told you to stop..."

He felt a pat on his shoulder as he started walking back towards his house. "Hey, man... If you follow me into the bathroom, and I find out, I'll kill you." Cloud threw his sword down by the couch and took off his shoulder armor, gloves, and shirt. He also threw those unceremoniously on the ground.

His body, not unlike his clothes, was caked in sweat and dirt. He walked into the bathroom and turned the hot water spout on all the way. He kicked off his boots and his pants. Walking into the shower, he grabbed his soap and loofa.

The steam began swirling around the room very quickly. He looked around and thought he saw steam catching onto something solid. "I told you that if you came in here, I'd kill you, you pervert." But something wasn't right... He knew it wasn't Sephiroth. As hot as it was in the shower, he felt colder than he should have, and he just knew.

He quickly finished with scrubbing himself and shampooing, conditioning, and rinsing out his hair. He stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself, another over his head. Not bothering to put on any clothes, he walked into his living room. Sephiroth's presence still wasn't there.

"Alright, you can come back now... please... I was just kidding about that pervert thing." He forced a laugh. "I mean, if I were invisible and you were taking a shower, you'd be able to see the blood spurting from my nose."

The Ultima weapon was leaned against his wall, cleaned and polished. His clothes had been miraculously cleaned and dried in the time that he was in the shower, and folded and placed on the couch. His boots... they looked like they had never been worn before in their existence.

Cloud sighed, his head resting in his hands, and sat down on his sofa. After a minute of thinking, he decided to take advantage of what he supposed was the last of Sephiroth's kindness. He put on his clothes, noting that they were still warm and smelled of fabric softener.

The mug of tea was steaming and had been refilled for him. He smiled and picked it up, pursing his lips and taking one sip. He could at least try to savor the moment, instead of taking it for granted.

He laughed again, this time genuinely, as he looked down at his coffee table. It was the same newspaper clipping that he had loved as a little boy. It was even cut like it had been, and had the crease of his mother's thumb.

He had always thought it had burned down in the Nibelheim fire.

Looking up, he realized there was another newspaper clipping on the top of his fireplace. There was one on his kitchen table, one sticking out of his dictionary, acting as a bookmark. In fact, looking around his house, he found every newspaper or magazine clipping he had ever owned about Sephiroth... Which, he mused, was probably everything about Sephiroth that ever existed in publication that was released to the general public.

He got to his bedroom and started finding the clippings from when he had joined SOLDIER, which he thought he'd lost when he was deemed "missing in action" so that Hojo could do experiments on him without much flack. A smile spread widely across his face when he found a magazine with Sephiroth's face on it. He hadn't ripped the black wrapping paper, but he knew it immediately for what it was... Zack, being cheap, had gotten it for him for his birthday because Sephiroth was the cover story. And, he also had taken a few polaroids of the back of Sephiroth's head when he hadn't been paying attention.

Those pictures fell out on his lap as he loosened the bow. He remembered that Zack had been too lazy to put any tape on it, because he wasn't able to find any for the time being, and didn't feel like pushing his luck with Sephiroth.

The front cover had actually gotten a good shot of his face, but he hadn't been smiling. Cloud remembered reading in the article that Sephiroth had explained that he thought he looked bad and unprofessional with a smile. He also remembered the countless number of smirks that Sephiroth had shot at him before.

Well, at least Sephiroth had learned how to mix business with pleasure properly. Cloud flipped through the magazine and looked. He remembered yelling at Zack for dog-earing the page, even though, in Zack's defense, he did anticipate that Cloud wouldn't have waited to look through the table of contents. He also remembered that his rebuttal was that he could have put a bookmark in it. In fact, he distinctly remembered his suggestion was that silver-plated one that he had set his eyes on that was shaped like Masamune. Zack had argued back that he was broke.

He remembered Zack reading over his shoulder and laughing about how stiff Sephiroth sounded in the interview, and how it was obvious that they didn't just make it up, because there was no one who could be that egotistical, stoic, and apathetic at the same time.

Cloud had hit him over the head with the box of chocolates his mother sent. Zack ended up eating them all while Cloud was reading, anyway.

When he finished with the article, he thought it'd be fun to read the rest of them backwards in chronological order. It was a mark of his obsession that he, after all those years, still remembered which ones came in which order without looking at the dates.

He wished that he could rewind time as easily as it was being read backwards. As they rewound further and further, memories flooded back into his thought process. From the beginning of SOLDIER, to just dreaming about it, to getting beat up at school for having a ShinRa lunchbox (the other kids had just been secretively jealous, of course) and the stories he used to make up in his head... All the way back to those bed time stories, where most children read from their favorite picture books. Sephiroth had survived that phase, the chapter-book phase, and the comic-book phase of his generation.

He remembered vividly the very first day he had picked up the newspaper and asked his mom to read those strange words on the front. He had immediately fallen in love with what he had believed to be the greatest story ever told. He had been three years old, and Sephiroth had been twelve. Already, Sephiroth had risen to the ranks of colonel. And through the years, his mother had spent trying to find news from the three years that Sephiroth was in SOLDIER that Cloud had missed. He never knew his mother cared so much until adolescence.

Of course, every child thought about immersing themselves in their favorite fictions... He had written them down sometimes and showed them to the only people who would listen at school-- his teachers. He even had a novel going at some point... It had been ten handwritten pages long and he loved it. His language arts teacher had showed it to the class to show everyone his writing potential.

He had to clean the garbage out of his hair before his mother came home from work that day. It had taken him five rinse-and-repeats to get the smell of banana out of his locks.

Cloud smiled as he placed every piece of paper and magazine and newspaper on his dresser drawer. They were all in order now, and as he opened the drawer to stick them all in, he found the various folders that they had been kept in before, and the album he had bought specifically for the pictures that Zack had taken.

Then he arched a brow and realized exactly how crazy he had been. His obsession was borderline insane. And Sephiroth... he had probably known for a very, very long time. Cloud blushed at the thought.

In the very last folder he opened, he found a shot that he hadn't recognized from before. It was a picture of Sephiroth, and he was smiling. He wasn't just grinning or smirking, but actually smiling. It looked recent too, and seemed to be that he had taken it himself. That was strange though, as Sephiroth had been deceased, and even if he had taken it before his death, he would've been too insane to think of something so comical to do. And last time Cloud checked, he still couldn't work a camera.

He took it out of the folder and stuck the rest of his papers inside, but he got a piece of tape and rolled it so it was sticky on both sides. He stuck it to the middle of the back of the photograph and put it on his mirror. "Thank you..." he whispered as he lay back on his bed for a long-awaited nap.

After all, he was sure no nightmares, no phantom-weariness, and no stress could find him now. He was miles away from where he had been only the day before... He was almost happy.

His eyes closed then, and he fell asleep with a smile sweetly framed on his face. He hoped that it would be dreamless for fear that he would never want to wake up afterwards. To his surprise, his mind (and Jenova) finally followed his orders.

Then he awoke, and when he did, felt more rejuvenated than he had in years. It felt kind of like his first day of SOLDIER. He had gotten off the train and immediately had to go to his dorm because it had been too late to do anything else.

Every day after that, the mornings had been filled with dread and sore limbs. Oh, and getting up early to Zack's singing in the shower and refusal to get out for the better part of an hour. Cloud never really figured out what exactly it was that took Zack so long. It definitely hadn't been voice lessons.

Even though things just got worse after that, he still had remembered the very first night he had spent in the city. The artificial lights were a beautiful wonder to him, the sounds foreign and exhilarating, and the smells... Well, he wouldn't mind forgetting the scents of trash and vehicle-waste permeating throughout the entire city.

They had been the sights, sounds and smells he had fallen asleep to for a long time... But as he thought longer on it, had realized more that he did prefer his home, or at least somewhere that offered a quieter lifestyle. Even if Nibelheim had been mentally taxing at school, SOLDIER had been physically taxing. Even if the children in Nibelheim had beat him up during recess sometimes, so did his fellow cadets in SOLDIER.

He looked at his clock and then realized his stomach's growling. Walking into the kitchen, he decided it was best if he had something to eat besides anything remotely alcoholic. Rummaging through his things, he settled for a half-eaten turkey wrap that had been in his refrigerator for... more than two days, but less than a week. So he assumed it was safe.

It wasn't.

Tossing that in the trash and rinsing out his mouth, he tried to find something else to eat. Nothing. There was nothing good in his refrigerator or anything in his cabinets. At least, there was nothing substantial. But that was okay, he had lived off of that kind of food for the longest time in SOLDIER. Every day was a bunch of gray stuff and a bowl of poke-it-and-see-if-it-moves soup. So he settled for a big candy bar.

He walked into his living room and sat down, opening a magazine, and then he commenced reading where he left off the last time he had read from it. Still the same article, still the same magazine... but it seemed, the way the words were imagined in his head, had somewhat altered.

Just then, Yuffie walked in the house. He knew he should have locked his doors. He put the magazine down, but before he could utter a word about her rude entrance, she spoke. "Cloud, what the FUCK do you think you're doing? You're nancing around drunk and dressed up like a girl! You know what, Cloud? When Aeris and Tifa told me the first time that you had dressed up in Wallmarket, even though it was to save her, I didn't think they were serious! But this, this, Cloud, is just... totally messed up!"

"Yuffie..."

"I'm not done yet! Listen to me; this is unnatural! I don't care if this is a really low point in your life or any shit like that, because Cloud, you've been bitching about that for far too long for anyone to be sympathetic anymore. Besides, what about Tifa? Oh, but of course, you never once stopped to think about her, did you! She may act like she's not, but in truth, she is completely heartbroken over your idiotic actions, you dumbass! And there you are, embarrassing yourself in front of millions of spectators, over some dead man! Some crazy dead man! And she's still worried about your damn guts!"

Through gritted teeth, he muttered: "Yuffie, please shut up."

"No, I will not fucking shut up! She may lie down and let your dirty boots walk all over her, but I for one, will not stand back and watch her waste the rest of her life being all worked up over you!" Yuffie closed the door behind her and walked into Cloud's room. To her surprise, he didn't even lift a hand to stop her from doing so.

She had ripped his picture off the mirror. It was then on his coffee table, and as he looked up with seemingly complete apathy, her look turned to one of shock and disgust. "I never thought you would be the one to break her heart... I thought that in entrusting her with you, that it would be a safe choice. I guess it was a poor choice of characters, wasn't it?" She turned around and stormed out.

He slammed the magazine back down that he had read during Yuffie's little rant, and got up to his feet. Looking towards the ceiling, he yelled: "NOT ONE FUCKING MOMENT OF PEACE, DAMMIT!" He ran outside and caught Yuffie by the arm.

"Let go of me, kisama!" As she glared back at him, it was the most serious, most angry face that he had ever seen Yuffie have. "I thought, maybe for one second, it was all just one big hoax... but Cloud... this is absolutely insane! I can't believe you! Ugh! I just want to... to... AUGH!" She jerked free of his grip. "You're lucky that Tifa made me promise to leave my shuriken with her."

"Maybe I am, but listen to me, Yuffie. I couldn't go on being with Tifa if I didn't love her. Do you honestly think that her constantly not knowing where I am, and her constant worrying, and hoping that I will someday return, is really so much better than if I let her go? She wanted the truth and the entire truth, and that is what I gave her. She deserves at least that much. She'll get over me... She'll move on and marry someone else and start a real family, just like she's always wanted. It's my turn to waste away over someone who can never return my love. She never deserved that; I did."

"I... I'm sorry. It's just... even though she will someday realize what a rotten jerk you were and get over it, she hasn't yet. And it just... it's painful to see her go through this, at no fault of her own. She's loved you for a long time, Cloud."

"I know."

"Do you? Really, honestly. Do you?" Yuffie looked into his eyes for an honest answer, because she had the faith in him that even that much humanity was still left in his heart.

"Yes. It's not me that doesn't understand, but you. Please, I know I'm being selfish. It's another sin you can add to my list, but if I'm going to not even try and stop myself from being an idiot and an outcast, could you at least grant me the opportunity to do so alone?"

She looked down for a second, unsure of what to say. She opened her mouth a few times, but no sound emerged. Finally, she decided on something. "Cloud, we'll never let you be alone," she said, before walking off into the distance.

Cloud stood at the front of his house, and watched Yuffie walk off. Maybe, in a way, she was right after all.