.
۵۵۵۵۵
-Chapter Eleven -
Interlude
What a Difference a Day Makes
۵۵۵۵۵
Routines. That's all it really came down to. Schedules ... patterns. Routines. Just a map to find your way through the day. If your routine was decent, then life was okay.
Sometimes routines changed all at once, overnight, turned upside down by a Big Event. In the blink of an eye, everything was different. Leon was no stranger to cataclysmic change; he'd been through it a time or two.
But most of the time, change came more slowly, in smaller doses, piece by piece. Then it was simply a matter of making minor adjustments: slide one piece over, trim another one back, slip the new piece in place. Slip, snip, snap. A routine, a life. It wasn't so hard.
Leon would never have classified Cloud's arrival in Traverse Town as a Big Event, so it was no surprise that his routine hardly missed a beat. Cloud simply slipped right into his day, quietly, unobtrusively, barely causing a ripple on the surface of Leon's life. It happened so smoothly, so subtly, that Leon couldn't even have told you how it had happened, or when; couldn't have picked out a specific time and said 'Then', or pointed to a particular place and said 'There'.
Take his morning routine, for example. Leon had started off his mornings the same way for as long as he could remember: drinking his two cups of coffee – no more and no less – on the steps outside his little house, alone. And then one morning, Cloud was just there, like he was supposed to be there, like he had always been there, and now Leon couldn't recall what his mornings had been like without him.
That first morning, he had been surprised when Cloud walked out and sat down beside him. He was unaccustomed to sharing his steps, or his mornings, and he hoped that Cloud didn't expect anything. But Cloud had just sipped his coffee in silence, and the tiny little ripple had settled right down into Leon's life.
The second morning found him glancing towards the house, wondering if Cloud was going to join him again, and when he looked up just in time to see a headful of blond coming out the front door, he couldn't help the small smile that stole its way onto his face.
By the third morning, he was setting Cloud's favorite coffee cup out on the counter, and that's the way it had been ever since.
No, nothing had really changed, yet everything was different.
He still made his morning rounds with Yuffie, fighting the Heartless and protecting the town, but Cloud's addition to their team made it seem like more of a game. Most mornings turned into a friendly competition to see who could get the most kills, though no matter which one of them claimed the victory, it was Yuffie who always came out the winner; while the two men were busy arguing over head counts, Yuffie was busy claiming all the prizes.
He still helped Merlin and the mayor, doing the odd jobs around the town that needed doing and taking care of problems that arose, but now, Cloud usually tagged along, assisting when he could, or just watching Leon being capable when he couldn't.
Sometimes Cid had a gummi to work on, and though working on gummis had never been Leon's favorite cup of tea, he would lend the older man a hand while Yuffie watched the store. Cid had always been grateful for his help, but it was obvious how pleased he was to have Cloud's more accommodating assistance. Leon had been quite content to settle into the more agreeable role of gofer for the two more enthusiastic mechanics, or just watch Cloud work as he coaxed a stubborn new block into place.
He still helped with getting the new refugees settled in, overseeing any necessary housing repairs and finding temporary lodging until they could be permanently placed in Traverse Town or moved to another location, and he still settled the disputes which inevitably sprang up among such a diverse population, but these tasks didn't seem so tedious with Cloud's quiet presence by his side – not to mention the fact that one look at the giant sword strapped to Cloud's back was enough to stop most arguments dead in their tracks.
And he continued to patrol the shopping district when it was open, of course, but since the customers had unanimously sided with Merlin, the merchants had decided to cut their business hours back to three days a week, leaving the three fighters with more free time on their hands. Cloud and Leon began to work on the house in First District.
They hadn't told the girls about it yet, wanting to make the place a bit more presentable before presenting it for their inspection, but it was impossible to hide their activity from Yuffie for long – not when she was always hanging around First District, and often right next door at Cid's – and she had caught them at it the very first day. When they confessed that they were fixing it up for her and Aerith, she surprised them by volunteering to help, and what's more, even Aerith pitched in, rolling up the sleeves on a pair of Cid's old coveralls and diving right in.
Their enthusiasm left Leon a little disgruntled, for he hadn't expected such eagerness on their part to move out, and absurdly enough, he felt vaguely insulted. Still, he had to admit that living with him probably hadn't been a sunny walk in the park; they probably hadn't been any happier with their living arrangements this past year than he had.
Besides, how stupid was that, letting his silly male ego dictate such a ridiculous response in defense of his wounded male pride. He should be glad they were glad to be getting their own place, and really, he was, once he got past his hurt feelings. It was certainly better than having to deal with petulant female pouting or a fit of feminine pique.
So he put aside his misplaced pride and put the two girls to work, though he sometimes had to wonder if he and Cloud couldn't have gotten the job done a lot faster without them. The girls seemed to think it was just another opportunity to socialize, and some days very little actual work got done.
Aerith usually showed up around noon, bringing lunch for everyone with her, and Cid would close up shop for an hour to join them. Then the five of them would sit around on the living room floor, the girls chattering away about nothing in particular while Cid threw in an occasional grunt or obscenity, and Cloud and Leon ate their sandwiches in silence. Or sometimes they would all have lunch at the cafe, lingering far too long over coffee and dessert while Leon glared impatiently, and no work at all would get done. Ten days stretched into twenty, and twenty started looking more like a month.
But for the most part – even though slowly, and not always smoothly – things progressed steadily enough, and Leon supposed it was good to have the extra helping hands, in spite of the fact that those hands were often more of a hindrance than an actual help, trying his already limited patience and taxing his heart; a paintbrush in the hands of the hyperactive ninja was truly a terrifying thing to behold. He quickly reassigned her to ripping off wallpaper instead, a job for which her temperament was more suited.
In Aerith's hands, however, the paintbrush became a tool for latent artistic expression, and they often lost her for hours amidst the sweeping swirls. For the first few days, Leon had attempted to correct her, interrupting his own work repeatedly in order to instruct the flower girl on the proper way to paint – up and down, up and down, always up and down in straight little lines that Aerith found unbearably boring. She would listen attentively and nod in understanding, "Yes, mm hmm, like that, I see," only to return to her own freestyle method as soon as his back was turned.
His attempts at getting her to use a roller were met with similar defeat. "But rollers have no personality." She would pout coquettishly. "Their texture is so impersonal." And then she would smile up at him sweetly, all innocence and emerald eyes, and go back to her beloved brush while Leon rubbed at his scar. Cloud just chuckled quietly to himself and wisely stayed out of it, knowing that Leon would have to learn for himself that there really was no stopping the unstoppable force that was Aerith.
Eventually Leon did give up, forcing himself to simply look the other way, and on the occasions when it all got to be more than he could handle, he would grab Cloud and head for the waterway; there was nothing like slashing at things with your sword to put things in their proper perspective. Leon had always needed a generous amount of 'training' time for maintaining his mental health.
Aerith had another name for it, though she supposed it couldn't technically be called 'hiding' since everybody knew where he was. And she had to admit that since Cloud started going with him, there might even be some actual training going on, for they often returned bearing bruises and cuts, though she knew that they both carried potions. She suspected that they left their wounds intentionally in order to prove that they hadn't been just goofing off.
Both men looked forward to their afternoons in the waterway, just the two of them, and Leon watched with satisfaction as Cloud's body grew strong – still slender, but no longer sickly. He steadily regained his power and speed, and every day it became more of a challenge for Leon just to keep up. Had he still had even one of his Guardian Forces, they would have been more evenly matched, but without them, it was only Leon's expert skill with his blade that enabled him to hold his own against the blond's genetically enhanced strength.
Leon suspected that even during their wildest spars, Cloud held himself back; that even when fighting the Heartless, he never fully let himself go, and Leon was convinced that he had not yet witnessed the true extent of Cloud's power. But the glimpses he caught whenever he succeeded in pushing Cloud to the edge were exhilarating, and they left Leon more determined than ever to break through Cloud's restraint and unleash all that power, even if the prospect was a little daunting. Every day he pushed himself harder to push Cloud past the brink, and every day their bouts reached new levels of intensity, their blood flowing hot with adrenaline and excitement. Then, bodies spent and minds at peace, they would sit together in comfortable companionship, enjoying the shared silence and solitude.
And snacks. Cloud always made sure there were plenty of M&Ms.
A few days after Cloud first discovered Leon's secret weakness for the colorful little candies, Leon had gone into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee, just like he did every morning, but on this particular morning, unlike every other morning, his coffee cup greeted him with a cheerful little tinkle when he grabbed it from the shelf. Thinking that his favorite cup had somehow gotten chipped, he peeked pessimistically over the rim, but the pieces of broken ceramic he expected to find turned out to be nothing more sinister than a couple of M&Ms. After that, the little candies starting turning up everywhere.
He found small bags of them stashed in his drawers, hidden under boxers and tucked into socks, and little tubes of minis in his boots. They were taped to the handle of his gunblade and tied to the buckles on his belts; nestled next to the novel on his nightstand, buried in the can of coffee in the kitchen, and concealed in boxes of kleenex all over the house. One evening, after sneaking into the bathroom for some aspirin, Leon found his beloved bottle filled with M&Ms instead, a spiky-haired happy face drawn on the label. He got the message loud and clear, and took his headaches to Cloud from there on out.
The first time Cloud pulled out the bottle of oil he had purchased, calmly informing Leon that he would have to remove his shirt, Leon had balked, obstinate as a mule, and practically babbled like an idiot for five full minutes. Okay, so maybe it was more like glared silently for two, arms folded protectively over his still-covered chest, but Cloud had firmly stood his ground and patiently waited him out, unmoved by every excuse that Leon could come up with. When Leon finally sighed in defeat and pulled his shirt over his head, the sight of his strong, bare chest finally did to Cloud what none of Leon's excuses had been able to do; it moved him.
Cloud knew that the wise thing to do would be to shift his eyes to some place safer, but Cloud also knew that wisdom was a quality better left to Aerith and Merlin. And even if he had attempted the impossible, the Griever pendant lying so lovingly between well-defined pecs was like a eye-catching magnet that glued his gaze to the spot. Cloud swallowed the desperate whimper trying to crawl up the back of his throat and pointed to the bed.
With a grouchy shake of his head, Leon removed the pendant from around his neck, finally freeing Cloud from its spell, and lay down on the bed, the defiance in his eyes stating clearly that this was only a one-shot deal. But Cloud's hands, sliding over his back slicked with the soothing oil, proved to be even more addicting than Leon's little white pills, and it wasn't long before Cloud began to find the brunet already on the bed – relaxed, willing and shirtless – without even having to remind him.
As the knot in his shoulder began to diminish, Leon's headaches began to diminish as well, and he soon found himself sleeping through most nights like a baby. And while his nights were the most restful he could ever remember, he found himself actually looking forward to his days for the first time in years, even though they hadn't really changed at all. Cloud had simply added a new dimension, suffusing every part of Leon's life with a hint of color, flavoring his routine with a subtle spice that was delicate, yet distinctively Cloud.
The last part of his routine that Leon allowed Cloud to share was his afternoon ritual on top of the Gizmo Shop, watching as the day fell into night. It was his favorite part of the day and the last part of his day that still belonged to him alone. He guarded it possessively, unwilling to take the risk of having it sullied, for Leon had learned a long time ago that if something was special to you and you wanted to keep it that way, then you had better keep it to yourself.
Most people thought that the light never varied in Traverse Town, but Leon had lived there long enough to sense the subtle changes, the different shades of dark. Not that it mattered, for it wasn't the transition of light that defined twilight in Traverse Town; it was the way that everything settled, how it softened and stilled. Even without the setting sun, it still felt like sunset, every bit as much as if he had been sitting on the beach back in Balamb.
He supposed it was just a silly habit of his, this obsession with trying to catch the edge of the world as it turned, but it brought him some small measure of comfort in a world where there was none; a sense of continuity in a life where the only constant was change and the only certainty, the lack thereof. It was Leon's way of making his peace with that world, and as he watched the dusk settle over the town, he too softened and stilled.
He had missed his afternoons on top of the Gizmo Shop since Second District had been closed, and even now that the danger had lessened, it was still too perilous for one person on their own. Yet Leon was reluctant to let Cloud join him in this last, exclusive part of his day, afraid of letting him get too close. Friends were fine as long as they stayed behind Leon's clearly drawn boundaries, and Cloud's toes were already well over the line.
But being with Cloud was almost like being alone. Only better.
Still, once it was done, it could never be undone. What if Cloud ruined it?
He wouldn't; he hadn't ruined the waterway.
But this was different. This was too private.
Then again, sharing things with Cloud was almost the same as keeping them private...
Leon debated the issue all day long, going round and round with himself until the only thing he had succeeded in doing was tying his head in knots. He was so distracted during their morning competition and afternoon spar that Cloud won both by a landslide. Aerith's idiosyncrasies during renovation hour went entirely unnoticed, and Yuffie's antics, specifically designed to annoy him, flew right on over his head, just like her boomerang. Even the puppies failed to divert his attention.
But when they finally reached the place where Leon could no longer postpone his decision – it was either turn right and go to the Gizmo Shop, or turn left and head for home – he stopped, looked at Cloud, and took a chance. It was a huge leap of faith for a man who didn't take chances, and like everything else in Leon's life, Cloud added a new dimension, made it better, and they sat there together most evenings now, side by side with their legs hanging over the edge.
Then one evening, Cloud lay back, arms folded under his head, and looked up at the stars. "What was your world like, Leon?" he asked in a dreamy voice, and just like that – another added dimension; a new piece of routine slipped right into place.
Leon looked down at the man lying beside him, his eyes shining softly with both innocence and ancient sorrows, and he felt something inside of himself turn just as surely as the world beneath his feet. Every night thereafter, Cloud would ask Leon a question about his world, and Leon would answer.
In a voice that barely disturbed the stillness around them, but added rather to its depth, he would tell Cloud stories of his past, of the people and places he had known, though rarely did he include his own place in the tale, almost as if it were someone else's life of which he spoke. But Cloud didn't seem to mind, and Leon sometimes suspected that it wasn't the words Cloud was listening to so much as the sound of his voice as it chased away the demons of the night – the phantoms and the fears and the regrets, the loneliness always lurking on the edge of acknowledgment.
They were good nights up there on the roof, just the two of them, and the days passed all too quickly as Leon's life adapted itself to the subtle changes in his routine. It shifted ever so slightly and then settled once more, leaving just enough extra space for Cloud.
It was a space that suited Cloud just right, and he slipped into Leon's life as easily as he slipped into an pair of old jeans, as comfortable a fit as his perfectly broken-in gloves.
And then Sora returned.
