14 June 1985

It was loud. It was crowded. People were everywhere, and there were far more all at once than Sephiroth had seen in half his lifetime. His ears ached and he was sweating profusely, still unused to the heat of the ugly city. He tugged at his uniform, the infantryman clothes further pushing him to the point of nearly overheating.

Keeping quiet, Sephiroth straightened his entire body, standing at attention while in formation. His hands were crossed behind his back and he made no expression on his face while the sergeant slowly walked by in front of him and the other men.

He'd made it through the initial recruitment stage with little trouble, but the next few days reminded him of the long way he had to go. The drills were simple, almost painfully so, but it was dumbing down his abilities that Sephiroth had to use lots of effort to put up with. He hated it. Absolutely hated it. He hated everything about this place, and homesickness set in the longer he stayed.

Nibelheim had been bad, but there, it was quiet. There, he was practically isolated. There, he didn't break a sweat anywhere as easily except during the summer. There, he could easily get by without talking to anybody he didn't want to.

There, he had his family and Cloud. Here, he was cannon fodder for the war.

The drills began, and Sephiroth concentrated on going through the movements with some stiffness, attempting to make it look like he had not yet developed those skills yet. There was no weapon training yet, which Sephiroth simultaneously was glad for and was frustrated about. Hand-to-hand first, then ranged combat, and finally, swords. Although he had little experience with guns, they weren't a weapon he really cared for due to the noise and having to reload, but it would alleviate some of this frustration over having to sit through lessons that he'd learned long ago.

The silver-haired man didn't say a word about it all. He ignored the curious looks thrown at him when the drills were over. Despite what he wanted, he'd been attracting more attention with his appearance. It was difficult enough getting through the initial recruitment what with him having to lie about his age and provide a new backstory, and to top it all off, he was still being stared at. Nibelheim had taught him to be wary of stares, and the habit was very hard to break. Sephiroth continued to tense as he reported for hand-to-hand training, feeling as though he would snap if it didn't stop soon.

Control, he had to keep himself under control. A mere grunt couldn't do a single thing. He had no influence whatsoever yet. That constant reminder didn't help too much, but it forced him to remember his goal.

4 August 1985

Cloud stared wistfully up at Tifa's window, keeping his hands at his sides. He'd been invited into her home only once along with her friends, but it had made his entire week.

Sephiroth rarely contacted him anymore. Every time the boy got a chance to talk to him, Sephiroth always sounded...tired. Cloud wanted to interact more with his friend – he truly did, especially since Tifa and her friends weren't as inviting.

But it seemed that something was wrong. Cloud looked down at his feet, his neutral expression turning into a frown. He looked up again when he heard a door open.

Tifa was looking down as she walked out of her house, appearing sullen. Her friends followed her. Cloud waited for a minute before trailing after them, taking care not to get uncomfortably close.

One of Tifa's friends turned around and gave him an ugly look but said nothing. The other began to say something to Tifa with a worried tone.

"Don't go, Tifa! It's too dangerous! Do you really think you'll see your mom there?"

Tifa didn't say a thing. She kept walking. Cloud immediately grew concerned. She wasn't trying to go up Mt. Nibel, was she?

The young girl wouldn't listen. She seemed to have been ignoring her friends. Cloud kept silent, unsure of what to do. He knew what he had to do; he just didn't know how to convince Tifa to turn back. She was far more familiar with her friends than she was with him, that he could assume, so Cloud was sure that if they couldn't get her to stop, he wouldn't be able to, either.

Cloud kept following along, keeping his head down as his thoughts continued to scatter and leave him at a loss for what to try to say.

It was too soon when Tifa arrived at the foot of the mountain. It was too soon when she walked up the path.

It was too soon when her friends stopped their protesting and simply left running for home. Cloud refused to leave Tifa, however. He had to keep following her – he just had to.

The girl finally made it to the bridge. It was here that Cloud spoke up.

"No!"

Tifa jumped. Cloud could see her trembling. He clenched his fists and grit his teeth.

Tifa looked at him sadly, looking like she wanted to cry.

"Mama is gone... If I climb up the mountain, maybe I'll see her again..."

Slowly, she turned around again and stepped onto the bridge. Cloud sucked in a breath. He didn't understand. What did she think she was trying to accomplish?

Tifa continued to walk. The bridge swayed a bit and creaked dangerously. The boy finally began to breathe again and followed after her. Any further into the mountain and she would risk running into a monster.

The old wood suddenly snapped under Tifa's feet. Screaming, she fell down. Cloud immediately sprinted after her, barely managing to grab her by the hand.

It made little difference, however. Tifa's weight and momentum brought the both of them down.

His body ached. But what hurt the most were his knees.

Cloud hissed, feeling his knees burn. He opened his eyes and grimaced at what he saw.

He'd skinned them. His knees were bleeding, and they burned even as a cold breeze flew by. Panting a bit, Cloud winced and tried to get to his feet.

Tifa lay near him, unmoving. Cloud hobbled over to her side, afraid. He shook her a bit, but received no response. The boy was about to try to pull her up when he heard a yell.

"Don't touch her!"

Cloud let Tifa go and looked towards the sound of the voice with wide eyes. It was one of the villagers. He angrily strode over towards the both of them. Cloud backed away, watching as the man lifted Tifa and tried to wake her.

No response again. The villager quickly set off towards home with Tifa still in his arms. Swallowing nervously, Cloud followed him, his legs wobbling from the pain. Every step hurt him, but he kept on, stopping only when he was near the town limits.

Mayor Lockheart gave him an ugly look and pointed an accusatory finger at him.

"Leave. Now."

Cloud stiffened in fear.

"My daughter is like this because of you! I don't want you near her ever again!"

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT!" Cloud screamed, wrenching his eyes closed. He felt a tear run slowly down his cheek. He opened his eyes when he heard somebody whisper in horror.

"Demon woman."

Mayor Lockheart was in front of the blond with his hand raised, as if he were about to strike the boy, but he was not looking at him.

Cloud turned around.

Jenova was much farther away from the town than Cloud was, yet her presence still seemed to petrify all of the villagers present. She approached them, standing behind Cloud and causing the villagers to back away. She appeared sickly again, with random streaks of black in her hair and she looked a little paler than how Cloud remembered her to be. Her eyes, however, looked a little less dull from what Cloud could recall. She held out her hand to Cloud in invitation.

Hesitantly, Cloud took the hand. He sniffed and looked back as he let Jenova take him away.

The looks he received in return didn't promise anything good.

Jenova lifted Cloud and held onto him with one arm. The boy began to protest here.

"I want my mom."

"It's about time you returned to us for a while," she said, her voice sounding scratchy. "You can return to that human later."

Cloud sniffed again. Seeing Kadaj was the last thing he wanted to do today. However, no matter how hard he pushed against Jenova, she refused to budge. He grew tired long before they reached the house at the peak.

5August 1985

Agitated, Sephiroth went through his exercises, preparing for the hand-to-hand lesson that he had to relearn. He let his mind wander a bit, though some of his concentration was still focused on downplaying his abilities. He became aware of a melancholic feeling that did not come from him. Mentally, he reached towards it, coming into contact with Cloud.

Hey. What's wrong?

I hurt myself. But Baba healed it yesterday.

You're back with her again?

She made me. I wanted to go back with mom.

I'll talk to her. How did you hurt yourself?

Cloud hesitated. Then, I wanted to help a friend. She fell down and I fell with her. So I got hurt.

Those humans again. Sephiroth's mood soured a bit.

But... They blamed me. They said it was my fault she fell. She hasn't woken up. It's not my fault. I only wanted to help.

Sephiroth bitterly said the only thing he could.

You shouldn't have done that.

Notes:

Started: 2014年5月30日（金）

Finished: 2014年8月19日（火）

When owner and doll are separated, there is no guarantee that the doll will be perfectly safe.

I'm disappointed in myself, honestly. This is getting ridiculous. Hell, there were crap-tons more updates for this fic last year than there were this year. I'm very sorry, guys. I'll do my best to update this more. I missed this story so much, too, you don't even know. But writing started to feel like a bit of a chore until yesterday. It was going well, and then the commission I ordered was finished.

Needless to say, I love it. Just look at it! www .xcd123. deviantart dot com /art/Commission-Sephiroth-Cloudstrife-476542121

It's a literal interpretation of what Seph and Cloud are (and will be more like eventually), but still. I nearly started screeching like a dying cat after seeing it. ;w; So beautiful. XcD123, the artist, has many thanks from me.

Okay, dying cat is a terrible way to say it, but I squee'd very, very hard.

Next chapter: a new canonical character is introduced, and things steadily get worse for dolly.