The Music Box

by Ceres Sky

Chapter Two: Nibelheim

Author's Note: These chapters are very short because I only have an hour to write them in the morning on weekdays while my son watches one of his DVDs. And I did the writing by hand. Next time, I may use my husband's laptop and type it out instead. I will probably be able to get more of the story in if I can type it. Anyway, I introduce an original character in this story who is mostly a support role for now but may become something more in the sequel to this story. Anyway, thanks to my reviewers so far. :) I really appreciate your encouragement.

When Cloud rode into Nibelheim, the sun had already set. The stars twinkled above him as he stopped at the gates of the town, senses alert for any danger. He had called Tifa a few hours earlier, telling her he would not be home until tomorrow. She had been disappointed, but he could tell she was glad that he had called to let her know. He had purposely not told her where he was going, and she did not ask, for which he was grateful. Denzel and Marlene had shouted, "Hello, Cloud!" in the background and Tifa had started laughing as they peppered him with questions at the top of their lungs. Cloud had laughed also and it surprised him how good it felt. He had said good night to Tifa and the kids and hung up, shaking his head in wonder at the power of a phone call.

Coming back to the present, Cloud scanned the town from his vantage point. The town seemed quiet, much the same as when he, Tifa, and Barrett had come to visit before, after defeating Sephiroth for the first time. Unsure of whether or not to ride Fenrir into town, he decided to hide Fenrir in the woods outside the gates. Instinct told him it might be best if his motorcycle were not seen.

Hefting a small pack containing Braden's wares onto his shoulder, Cloud walked into Nibelheim.

Zangan's store was easy to spot. It was the only building with cheery light filtering from the windows upstairs. All the other buildings were deserted, looking forlorn and lonely with their darkened, blank windows. How Cloud knew they were deserted he didn't know. His senses just told him so.

Cloud walked by his house, then more slowly, by Tifa's house. They both still looked the same, and for some reason, that bothered him. For a brief moment, he wondered what the town would have been like if Sephiroth had never burned it down and Shinra had never taken it over. Maybe he and Tifa would have married, living near his mother and her father. Maybe they would have had children... Cloud shut down his thoughts.

"You have Marlene and Denzel now; don't dwell on what could have been," he told himself sternly.

He soon found himself at the door to the lone lighted home in Nibelheim. He knocked on the heavy wooden door. The lights flickered on downstairs, and Cloud fidgeted as someone fiddled with the lock. The door opened wide, and Cloud was briefly blinded by the light shining into his eyes.

"Yes, how may I help you?" A dark-haired stood in the doorway, and for an instant, Cloud thought he was looking at his friend Zack. But the illusion vanished when Cloud saw the green eyes considering him with a polite curiosity and no recognition.

"I'm here to see Zangan," Cloud stated, with his usual bluntness when it came to dealing with people.

The man nodded, and Cloud saw that they were probably about the same age. "Not many people come to see Master Zangan. Come in." He stepped back from the doorway, allowing Cloud into the house. "If you will follow me upstairs." The man bowed slightly and turned toward the steps.

Cloud followed silently, wondering if this was the same house Zangan had lived in while he was training Tifa. He stopped as a framed picture on the wall caught his eye. It was a picture of Tifa. She looked like she had just finished a sparring session because the color in her cheeks was high and her eyes were sharpened with battle awareness. She was smiling at the camera, a hand up to her hair as if trying to pat it into place. The photo next to it was more shocking though. It was a picture of Zack, Tifa, and Sephiroth, right before she had guided them to the Mako reactor. Cloud looked away from it quickly, seeing those three together brought him too many bad memories.

The other man had already reached the top of the steps and was watching Cloud thoughtfully.

"He talks much about her," he said suddenly. "He tells me she was one of his best students."

Cloud glanced up at him and then continued up the stairs. His host turned without saying anything more and led him into a comfortable living room. An older man was sitting in one of the two leather armchairs in the room. A book lay open on his lap, which he instantly shut when he saw Cloud.

"Master Zangan, this man says he must speak with you." The dark-haired man left the room with a respectful nod to both Cloud and Zangan.

"I do not have many visitors to my store, let alone my home." Zangan waved Cloud to the other armchair. "Welcome." As Cloud settled into the chair and slipped the bag off his shoulder, Zangan said, "What brings you to Nibelheim, Cloud Strife."

"I could ask the same of you, Zangan," Cloud replied as he rummaged in his pack, drawing out the small package Braden had given him. He stood up to hand the package to the older man. "Braden sent this with me and he said to tell you hi." Cloud shrugged as Zangan took the package.

A small smile tugged at Zangan's lips. "So Braden is finally sending me items for my store." He laughed shortly. "Although he is right in assuming that I do not receive much business in this forsaken place."

Cloud sat back down, studying Zangan thoughtfully. He was not surprised that Zangan knew who he was. Avalanche and all its members had become heroes anew after defeating Bahamut in Edge, though very few knew that Sephiroth had returned for a brief time to the ruins of Midgar.

"Good to see you..., Cloud." That voice echoed through his mind and he looked around the room warily, wondering if that had been merely an echo of his memories or if he had actually heard that hated voice.

"So you can hear him too, can you," Zangan said.

Cloud glanced at Zangan, surprised. "That wasn't just..." His voice faltered.

"I can hear him also, but Shan," Zangan paused and looked toward where the dark-haired man had left the room. "Shan cannot. I have my suspicions on why I can hear him. A pity Tifa isn't here because it might help me deduce what is going on."

"No!" Cloud stood up. The idea of bringing Tifa here to hear Sephiroth's voice...

"Sit down, Cloud." Zangan's gaze was sharp as Cloud reclaimed his seat. However, he offered no more information, and Cloud realized that Zangan was waiting for him to speak.

"I will never be a memory..."

Cloud shook his head, willing that voice to leave him alone. He took refuge in his reason for visiting Nibelheim.

"I'm here to pick up parts for Braden. They're for a gift for Tifa." Cloud pulled out the list.

"I have a gift for you, Cloud." Why would it not go away? And Zangan sat in this chair, looking for all the world like he could NOT hear that voice, yet he said that he could.

"You want to know why I'm here, don't you, Cloud?" Zangan asked, taking the list from Cloud's cold hand and scanning it. "Why would I come back to a place where such terrible things have happened?" He looked down at Cloud, eyes hard. He turned his head. "Shan!" He said loudly.

Shan entered the room, his pace unhurried. He stood at ease, gaze on Zangan. "Master?" He said politely.

"Take this list and fill the order for Mr. Strife, please." Shan stepped forward and took the list. He went downstairs into the shop. When Cloud heard Shan opening and closing drawers and cabinets in search of the parts on the list, he said, "Zangan, why are you here in Nibelheim?"

Cloud realized that perhaps there was nothing Zangan could tell him until he had asked the right questions and possibly offered his help. He frowned. If Zangan needed his help, then he probably would not be going home to Edge and Tifa tomorrow. Zangan stepped backward slightly as Shan came back upstairs with Cloud's order.

"Cloud, you can either take these parts and go home and be none the wiser." Zangan took the bag Shan was holding and held it out to Cloud. When Cloud did not take it, Zangan continued, "Or you can listen to what I have to say and I will give you the original of the music box Braden is going to make for you."

The original music box? Where could Zangan could have found such a thing? And how could it still be intact after the fire? There were too many questions now for Cloud to go home. He had to hear Zangan's story.

Cloud stood up, pushing the bag away. "I will listen, Zangan, but I can't promise I can help."

Zangan still looked stern, but there was a tinge of relief in his eyes. "That is all I ask."