This is a real oddity; a chapter that was only typed, not written on paper. That's mostly just not how I work.

Cloud's PoV

Something, I may never know what, woke me up just after sunset. I could here music from somewhere, barely there, but constant. It fit my mood perfectly; an odd, haunting melancholy. I couldn't make out any of the words, but it was beautiful. I felt slightly light-headed, barely connected to reality. Time seemed to run like a lumpy sauce, slow until a whole gob passed at once.

I climbed out the window, into the tiny niche. It occurred to me now that it would be a perfect dancing stage. The music was louder outside, clearer, and the words were in a distinctly foreign language. I guessed it was coming from the house next door, though I couldn't be sure. The flagstone formed a dancing stage; what performer could ever resist such temptation? So I danced the song that was playing, then the next that came on, another sad song that made no sense, though this was in English. When the third song came on, I was too lost in dancing to do more than pick another dance to set to it. This had always been what took me from an alright dancer to an amazing one; the ability to dance to a song I had never heard.

A fourth tune began, and I wiped sweat out of my eyes and took a seat, cross-legged on the flags. The heat was not too bad, once you got used to it. I debated taking a shower, and decided it would be too much effort; instead, I climbed on to the diving board and stepped off, into the deep near-black water. The sky had faded and the stars brightened; but you could barely see any of them. The lights of the city and the dirt in the air washed them down to pale points of light. The water was warm; not exactly what I was hoping for, but not bad. I waded over to the steps and climbed out, now dripping wet. The warm air was now almost pleasant. It was clouding over quickly, swift amethyst birds made of fog flapping lazily over the sky.

I walked over to the front yard, not through the house, but cutting through the small gap behind the garage. I felt like climbing, like being high up. At home, I had always gone up on the roof. I would do that here, too—but it wouldn't be nearly as satisfying on a one story flat roof, and my parents had expressly forbidden it. So instead, I climbed the tree in the front yard. It wasn't that tall, but at least it got me up off the ground. The music had stopped while I climbed, so I just lay back on the branch and watched the clouds come in through the crisp, scorched-looking leaves.

It wasn't more than a few minutes before I heard the sound of a sliding door opening over the traffic noise; that had been hard to get to, the ever-present sound of cars. I looked towards the source of the sound, and discovered that I was not the only one outside, but that my annoying neighbor was standing on his balcony, looking at the sky. My first instinct was to bristle like an angry cat; but in my current mood, it seemed like far too much trouble. So I simply watched him. He seemed completely different right now; more human, calm, but troubled. The wind was playing with his hair, and I wondered vaguely why he kept it long, since it looked like a lot of trouble. Then I snorted to myself. It was pretty rich for me to wonder about why someone else wore their hair long.

The rain was coming down in large, fat drops now. I closed my eyes and turned up my face, feeling the drops kiss my skin, and remembered. The images scrolled behind my eyes like a movie, time having worn the colors to dull sepia, the lines blurred like smudged chalk.

A girl in a summer dress, standing in the rain, letting it wash down her face. A boy sat beside her, his muddy blond hair tied back in a tail. The girl's expression was peaceful, calm, but the boy looked angry. "Why are you so calm, Aerith?" even his voice was combatitive. Harsher than she deserved. Yet she simply smiled an expression as gentle as the raindrops that brushed down over both of them. "Why shouldn't I be?" Her voice was soft, kind. Even over the wind and the rain, it had an odd kind of music hidden in it. "Why shouldn't I be calm?" the girl asked again, when he did not answer. She raised her hand to point at the pale grey sky. "The rain washes away sorrow. I asked your grandmother once, and she told me that that is where your name comes from; when you weep, all the sorrows will wash away." The boy merely shook his head. He had been too young to remember his grandmother, except to know that his name had been her curse. How do you go through life with a name like Cloud? When he replied, his tone had lost its heat, but not its unhappiness. "How can that be a good thing, Aerith?"

I didn't remember what I had been upset about, but that had been one of the major puzzles in my life. Since I was a child, I was told I was named for the clouds, because once the clouds clear everything is more beautiful, but as I had asked Aerith, how was that a good thing? It seemed more like a curse to me. That when I was gone, things would be better? That's a heavy burden to put on anyone. To grow up knowing, that you are the rain cloud over the sun? Sometimes I don't believe it. Sometimes I do. A great many things would be simpler without me—my parents could have their move, and no one would care. Aerith was probably cheering that I was gone. This was part of the reason that Leon bothered me so much. He had so many people, who only wanted to be his friend, yet he was so cold. He turned so many of them away. I had never had anyone who had wanted my friendship, honestly and for myself, except for Aerith. Yuffie was kind, but she was infatuated with a shell; a ghost in a soulless metal box. Not me, not myself. Just that one facet. Now even Aerith was gone. She had promised to call the day I arrived. The phone had already acquired a layer of dust; no one had called. No one.

My eyes stung, and I was glad of the rain; the tears on my cheeks would just be rationalized as rain. I wondered who would see them, then remembered Leon. He was still looking out at the storm, his eyes far away, and his wet hair whipping wildly in the rain. He was rubbing a point on his collarbone like it ached. The look on his face was that of someone trying to rub away memories, and failing. This was a facet of him I had not seen before, sad and soft and almost lonely. Each lightning flash caught in his eyes, and glittered on the raindrops running down his face in a mockery of tears. I returned my gaze to the sky, watching the lightning eat at the edges of the sky like fiery dragons. It seemed cooler now, but the water was warm and harsh. I swung lightly from the branch, hitting neatly on my feet. My parents never noticed if I was here or not, so I would go elsewhere.

I began to walk, with no idea of where I was going and not particularly caring. The rain and the darkness were blurring the streets, but it wouldn't have helped me anyway. This whole city was strange to me. I walked for what must have been an hour, slowly picking up pace until I was running at a gentle lope. I wasn't really sure why I ran; I suppose I was only trying to outrun my trouble. I always try, and fail with equal certainty.

"Cloud!" I skidded to a stop, nearly falling. Strong hands caught me and set me on my feet, and I looked into a pair of startling golden eyes. Damian. "What are you doing out this late?"

"I wish I knew." My voice was rough, nonsense even to my own ears, but Damian merely smiled.

"Yes, I know the feeling." His voice was slightly sad, with a trace of something dark in it. Like Leon, he seemed completely different after nightfall. I looked around. We were out in the middle of nowhere, a place in the park called the hill of ghosts; I had heard stories of it from Yuffie. It was better known as 'Suicide Point'. Several people had killed themselves by jumping from the landscaped cliff into the reservoir below. The water there was shallow, but fast; if the fall didn't kill you, the current would. What was Damian doing here after nightfall?

"What are you doing out?" I asked. I had no right to ask, only the need to know. It wasn't to be, though; he only smiled, but it was a haunted expression.

"I needed to think things out. Things are clearer, out here." I shivered, and not from the cold. Even with the rain slowing, it was still warm enough, but Damian's expression chilled me to the bone. "We should both be going. It's cold, and wet, and it's late out." He picked something up, and I saw steel flash in the last of the lightning. A naked blade. The chill that ran through me made my earlier shiver seem like nothing. Damian and I walked back, my eyes occasionally flicking to the blade in his hand. There was something not all sane about Damian, but it seemed to be self-directed. We finally stopped outside a battered concrete apartment complex. It looked rundown, but lights burned in some of the windows.

"You live here?" I asked. I had assumed Damian lived with his family. Then again, I supposed he still could. He glanced at me.

"Home sweet home, thankfully parent-free." Ok, maybe not. I looked around, not really wanting to look at him. Faintly, I realized I recognized the place. I had ridden past here in the daylight to get to school. "You know your way home from here?" I nodded.

"See you at school tomorrow." Something in that statement seemed to amuse him; there was real humor in his tone.

"See you tomorrow." He walked away, disappearing from sight quickly around the edge of the building. I walked back towards my house, as the rain slowed and stopped. The rain-slicked streets shone with light from the many houses, shining with oil. It was so different from home. In Boston, the rain would have whipped the trees and soaked into the dirt, carrying only a bit of dust. Here, the trees were few and sparse, surrounded by houses and streets. The whole land looked blighted, burned. I had reached my house. All the lights were off across the street, but I could still see Leon sitting on the balcony, a quiet smile on his lips. I wondered if he had known what his boyfriend was doing. No, even he couldn't be that cold. I opened the door to head in, and paused and looked up. The clouds had cleared, and the moonlight was bathing everything in pale light. That was what Leon was smiling at. I smiled myself, but it was a bitter expression with no real happiness. Everyone smiles when the Cloud is gone.

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AN: Alright. This is the first chapter of any chaptered fic that I have successfully written on a computer without handwriting it. A rarity, but definitely a timesaver. I'm not really sure where this chapter came from, but if you want a hint, look up the song In Liverpool, by Suzanne Vega. You could hear a great version, last I heard, from a band called Wild Oats. A Google search will net them easily. Hopefully, I shall have the next chapter up soon. Please review; it is your comments that keep me writing. Suggestions and calm criticism welcomed with open arms, but please review even if all you have to say is "hi." Arigatou.

Dyslexic Angel