23 May 1982

Cloud ran through the grass, swinging his stick around. Yelling excitedly, he chased after Sephiroth, who was walking as slow as ever. He tried to hit him, taking care not to swing too hard and accidentally hurt him, but it didn't matter in the end as Sephiroth caught the blow with his hand and pulled the stick away from Cloud. The boy hung on, his feet kicking the air as he tried to swing his weight around and force Sephiroth to let him go.

His palms began to sweat and he started to slip. Stubbornly, Cloud tried to scramble back up, but Sephiroth took advantage of his struggle and yanked the stick away, leaving a pouting boy looking up at him from where he had fallen in the grass.

"Don't make so much noise," Sephiroth lectured. "It lets the enemy know you're coming. You need to be quiet and sneak up on them that way you catch them by surprise."

Cloud took in the information, wishing that he'd thought of that earlier. He stood up, dusted off the butt of his pants, and leaped at Sephiroth to take his stick back.

"There's no point in trying to do a sneak attack when I know what you're doing," Sephiroth said, amused. He pulled the stick up to where Cloud couldn't easily reach it.

Cloud jumped for the stick, but Sephiroth held it up higher when the boy did so. He tried again, only to get the same results. By the fourth try, Cloud knew that Sephiroth was cheating. On purpose.

"Give it back," Cloud whined. He kicked Sephiroth's leg when the man didn't do as he said. He crossed his arms and turned around, pouting again. He felt a firm tap on the top of his head and, in a frenzy, rushed to get the stick while he had the chance. Quickly, it was held out of reach again.

"Give it back," Cloud said again, this time with some frustration.

"Get it yourself."

"I can't."

"Yes you can."

Cloud jumped at Sephiroth again. The man kept the stick higher and higher out of reach. No matter how hard or high Cloud tried to jump, he barely even came close to getting the stick back.

Giving up, Cloud crossed his arms again. He stared up at Sephiroth, waiting for him to take pity and return the stick.

The silver-haired man didn't. He continued to hold on.

Cloud pouted again, getting closer to Sephiroth and tugging on his pants to practically beg him for the stick. The man ignored him and held the stick up higher.

Cloud's hands clenched on Sephiroth's clothes, and he was struck with an idea. Pulling harder, he reached up for the man's shirt, jumping up to get a higher grip. With difficulty, he climbed, eventually reaching the stick and taking it from Sephiroth before falling back down to the ground.

"What did I tell you?" Sephiroth said with a small smile.

Cloud whacked him on the leg. "You said you were gonna teach me how to hit, not take my stuff away," he replied grumpily.

"There's more to fighting than just hitting. If you had lost your weapon to the enemy, they would not have given it back to you if you had asked for it. You have to take it from them yourself," Sephiroth explained.

Cloud understood. But he really wanted to learn how to hit and slice things as well as Sephiroth could. If he could do that, then having weapons taken away wouldn't be a problem, would it?

"You can't always rely on skill. Things happen sometimes, and it's important that you know how to fix the problem. Here, try to hit me." Sephiroth sat on his haunches with both his arms hanging lazily off his lap.

Cloud turned away, setting off in the general direction of the town. He counted a few paces, then turned around with his stick held high. He yelled before swinging downward onto Sephiroth's head.

He was swept off his feet as Sephiroth yanked the stick away from him again and pushed him lightly.

The boy blinked. Sephiroth had moved too fast for him to be able to comprehend what had happened, let alone see. All he could see now was one end of the stick pointing straight at him, the other end in Sephiroth's grasp.

"Can you show me how to do that, too?" Cloud asked, amazed.

Sephiroth nodded. He began to demonstrate some techniques which Cloud focused all of his attention on, eager to learn.

He was in the dining room, mentally reciting the Grinning Wolf, when his brother returned with the kid. He didn't have to look back to know it was them; his younger brothers usually weren't active until the late evening.

Sephiroth passed by without acknowledging his presence, taking the kid upstairs to let him have a bath and to do a few activities before bed, as was normal nowadays. He'd make sure the kid was asleep, come downstairs for a little bit, then go back upstairs to sleep.

Yazoo couldn't really say that he liked the change. His insomnia had him awake for several days, pondering more on the subject than he really should have. He could understand that Sephiroth had become attached to the kid. Yazoo didn't mind that at all, but the changes happening had him feeling disconcerted.

His mother was slightly on edge after the war with the Shinra was confirmed. The small amount of anxiety had spread, infecting everybody besides the kid, who was oblivious. Each reacted in their own way over the matter.

Jenova stayed secluded, hardly speaking a word to anybody. Yazoo was unsure whether she really wanted to be alone or if it was he and his brothers who stayed away.

He decided to go see her, thinking about how Loz had changed. His brother seemed more serious when making his war scenarios with his figures, as if preparing tactics to use on the Shinra. The actions seemed to fuel Kadaj's irritated behavior, making him prone to snapping at anything, even if it had nothing to do with the kid.

Sephiroth seemed to become even more attached to the kid, spending almost every second of his spare time with him, as if wanting to protect him from the Shinra. It wasn't entirely unusual for him to change like that, but it was a drastic amount in a small amount of time in Yazoo's eyes.

He opened the door to his mother's room, relieved at finding it unlocked. He relaxed a little more when he saw no signs of fresh blood in the interior of the room. She lay with her back to him on the bed, and as he sat down next to her, he was reminded of how he and his family despised change.

Change seemed to come more often as the centuries passed by. Too soon, it dwindled into decades, and then, eventually, years. Small changes didn't bother them too much. However, the bigger and major ones were like stabs in the chest. Yazoo could easily remember the change of language and how he and his family tried their hardest, refusing to give in to the change. In the end, they were forced to learn the new way of speaking, and the other changes following that one managed to force them to adapt as well. Once again, they were changing, and Yazoo did not like it. Not one bit.

"They won't," Jenova said quietly.

"They could. They probably remember us; it would be too much of a risk if one of us tried to interfere."

"I won't let them."

"Don't do it. If anybody should go, it should be one of us."

"You're not."

"Will I?"

"You won't." It was more of a command – the final say.

Yazoo wasn't going to let his mother win the argument. He couldn't.

Notes:

Started: 2013年11月18日（月）

Finished: 2013年11月22日（金）

Seven in the morning, and I gotta go. Laptop is busted, so it will be a while before anything else is updated and before I can properly go back to fix errors. Sorry for that, but I swear there will be another updating frenzy in at least two weeks...