Of Troubles and Truth
By: Miroir du Symphonie
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slight Violence, Language
Pairings: LeonxCloud
A/N: Well, here we are with the second installment! As some of you have noticed, I have scrapped the arc-arc idea and instead have chosen to make it all into one fic. The chapters will read as they were originally meant to, however, which would make this more of a sequenced fic collection than anything else, I suppose. Technically, it's still an arc, just...together. xD
About the Shukumei contest—I didn't realize until after that there were actually two Crisis Core references instead of one. So, the winners of the contest are both Inami and Lady Gunblade, for respectively catching the Loveless and the "Cloud, run!" references. This installment is dedicated to both of them. (They were also the only reviewers for that fic, a thought that depresses me.) Amethyst Grey also gets a dedication for one of the most beautiful reviews I think I've ever gotten.
And as usual, everything I write is dedicated to my lovely and talented Oblea. :3
Another thing I wanted to mention – I recently started a LJ for the sole purpose of letting my readers know what's going on with me and my progress on my fics. So people don't think I'm, you know, dead or something. The Homepage link on my Bio goes there, so check it out when you get a chance. :3
Um, things to look out for. There are an epic bunch of allusions to things that will happen in the arc's future. Two cool FF people make their first appearances. And...yeah. xD
Well, I hope all of you enjoy this one, and look forward to the upcoming installments. Don't forget to drop me a review line when you're done. :3
Glasses and Braces II
Of Troubles and Truth
The sun shone brightly over the emerald green grass, its rays disrupted in curious patterns by the swaying of leaves in the wind. It was an unusually warm day for mid-March, and the only jackets that could be seen were at one particular table—the marks of the high-school elite.
Including their leader.
It seemed as if this day had been made to backlight his glory: sunshine highlighted his metallic locks in meticulous detail, playful sprites of wind rippling it behind him like a silky cape. His bangs cast his eyes into shadow, but that only served to lend an air of mystery, subtle and alluring. The foliage was undone by his eyes' intense green, the pale white of the garden's pansies put to shame by his skin's moonlit hue. He exuded confidence. He radiated charisma. He oozed attraction.
And yet, he reflected to himself, all he seemed to draw in were steroid-ridden retards and vapid bubble-gum bitches. Otherwise known as the football and cheerleading teams.
Sephiroth sighed from his spot at the table's dead center, taking in the conversations around him with a disinterested air and fielding all attempts to draw him into them. Yes, it was always nice to be the center of focus, and the vain side of him that'd been nurtured by his mother was thriving on the attention.
On the other hand...the only reason he tolerated these people was because of the emblem on his varsity jacket. It had been his choice to join the team in sophomore year out of sheer boredom—and all it had done was acquire him an even larger entourage than those that had followed him for his beauty. He was still bored, moreso than ever, and an opportunity for amusement didn't look to be forthcoming anything soon.
With another put-upon sigh, he let his eyes roam the large lawn before they fixed themselves upon another silver head. His brother had had much better luck in finding intelligent friends, despite their mother's protests that he looked like a painted fool—Riku seemed perfectly happy with the group he hung out with, makeup and all. The Strife twins in particular had invaded the Yamani home more than once, and Jenova hated them. Quite ironic, really, when they possessed more intelligence in their smallest toes than all of Sephiroth's friends combined.
Speaking of Strife...
Sephiroth's eyes narrowed as he scanned the expanse of grass for the oldest child.
Cloud didn't even register a blip on the school's radar, and yet his hair made him laughably easy to spot. Predictably, he had been denied the privilege of a picnic table and was eating under a large tree, school bag lying on the ground beside him. If it was an ordinary day, Sephiroth would have merely snorted at the somewhat pathetic sight and turned his attentions elsewhere. However, something caught his notice that stirred the first bubbles of anger in his blood.
Cloud wasn't alone.
Now, this fact by itself wasn't enough to anger the quarterback. If by some miracle of the Goddess the blonde's pathetic social skills had drawn in a friend, all the more power to him. Said friend didn't appear to be anyone particularly cared about, an equally inept-looking brunette with thick-framed glasses and an acceptable face. It wasn't even the fact that Cloud was obviously enjoying himself with this mystery guy.
It was the fact that the two were more than friends.
Much more.
Now, said tidbit of information was something that most wouldn't pick up on (assuming they cared enough to look). But Sephiroth had enough practice with girls attempting to hide their sleeping with so-and-so behind whoever's back. He knew the signs, and they jumped out at him now: the duo was abnormally close, heads bent intimately and back positioned to the lunch crowd as if asking all not to disturb, please and thank you.
Sephiroth even caught the sporadic twitching of their fingers, as if aching to grab the other's to hold.
You would not accept me, Cloud. Yet you take this person.
Suddenly unable to stand the clueless conversations around him, he abruptly stood and left, ignoring the alarmed cries for him to wait.
He'd found something to do, alright.
The weather itself seemed to approve as they sat at its mercy, shady branches shielding the pleasant warmth above from becoming excessive heat. A cool breeze reminded them that March's ides were still afoot, but it served more to soothe than to chill the frame. The grass felt soft and downy instead of its usual prickliness, and for the first time the tiny ache to be at a table of friends had dissipated completely.
Comfortable silence hung between them, conversation having ceased for the moment and each wrapped up in their own thoughts. Cloud's gaze was to the sky, his namesakes lazily drifting across the blue expanse, but despite the tranquil scene he felt internal unease. They had one week so far, one paltry, trivial, pathetic week—and already his whole routine had distorted itself into something unrecognizable. If he believed in such things, he would have sworn that Yuffie had turned occult and was casting her spirit on him to make him a clumsy, uncoordinated fool.
Lines of dry history seemed to dance before his eyes, reading like poems and nonsensical nothings. Numbers that made perfect sense rearranged themselves until he calculated caricatures of a smooth, defined face. Steady hands, deftly transferring a lab class corrosive, began to quiver with the faintest thought of gray eyes and the end result was a hole in the table.
His mother hadn't been pleased at the bill.
Life at home hadn't even been a reprieve from the nonsense. In lieu of his usual gracefulness he'd been tripping and stumbling over everything, a constant source of amusement to his brothers. And he'd earned himself a lifetime ban from the kitchen after four shattered glasses, two piles of toppled cookbooks, seven spilled liquids, and one quivering knife embedded into the kitchen wall. He was still trying to figure out how that one had happened.
Cloud couldn't concentrate on anything.
The blonde let out an inaudible sigh, still staring up but not really seeing. His distraction was beginning to show up in his grades and the last thing he needed was for his dream college to see the drop and rescind him because of Leon. Something needed to be done.
He was broken out of his thoughts by a tentative hand, cautious fingers tracing his knuckles in careful circles. Leon's hand was warm and his touch gentle; despite Cloud's prior thoughts he couldn't stop the rush of affection that flowed into his chest. Their fingers laced together with a reassuring lock and he leaned closer, seeking more of that warmth.
Spending lunch outside with the brunette had certainly been more interesting than spending it in the library alone. He'd been surprised to know that he and Leon had spent all this time a bookshelf away, and the thought that he could have had a friend years ago was a little saddening. Nonetheless, the sunshine had held too strong a pull for even them, and it had lead to soft conversation and the most deliciously moist brownies with macadamia nuts that Cloud had ever tasted. While he wasn't one for foods with excessive carbohydrates and proteins like brownies, he wasn't going to refuse anything Leon offered.
Especially if he was consuming it off the other male's utensil.
"Cloud?" Leon's voice held soft inquiry, breaking him out of his pleasant reverie. The blonde turned his head. "Are you well? You seemed...distant for several moments."
The bell rang in the distance, spurring a flurry of movement from the assembled students. "I am quite fine, Leon." Cloud stood slowly, like a foal tottering on its first legs, eyes smarting slightly from the blur of moving colors awash in the blinding sun. "Simply lost in thought." He offered a small smile, watching the older male's expression soften. "I didn't intend to worry you."
Cloud turned to collect his bag, dusting the small amounts of dirt and stray grass blades off it with sharp motions. He heard the brunette moving about behind him as they prepared to leave, but he wasn't expecting the hand that shyly caught his, stopping his progress.
"You...you would tell me if anything was wrong, right?" the brunette asked, tugging him a little closer with an eye on their surroundings. There weren't many other stragglers around, and the few there paid them no attention.
"Yes," he replied quietly. In truth, he hadn't been planning on saying anything. There wasn't exactly a way to talk about the recent happenings without coming across as some kind of lovesick idiot. Leon certainly didn't seem to be burning holes in tables.
The brunette seemed placated, however, and Cloud smiled again as he was pulled into a short but sweet kiss. He would worry about the other things later. Right now, he was where he wanted to be.
Cloud was acting strange.
Those four words seemed to reverberate around and around, making spring boards of the walls of his mind before diving to the depths of his heart, leaving bewildered ripples in their wake. His appetite was nonexistent as he poked at his chicken, the silence torn to pieces by his father's incessant chatter.
Ice had been touched by the faint strains of spring, the air becoming heavier with faintly green aromas and promises of color. The tang and zest of academia in winter was tapering into a dull humdrum, rendering the students despondent and the teachers vague. Even those at Leon's speed were beginning to tire: neat rows of numbers turned opaque in the flutter of emerging butterflies. Cloud seemed to be suffering from more than spring fever, however, and thoughts of the possible problem were making him anxious.
Leon possessed no knowledge of friendship's semantics, and to learn he had observed the readily available subjects around him. Finding information on the typical relationship had been no different a situation and he approached this investigation with his usual thoroughness. What he deduced had been enough to give birth to a wide array of frightened notions, fears that he had worked hard not to show that day in the little bookstore.
But being with Cloud was like nothing he had seen or felt: neither the simpering worship nor the almost cruelly beckoning tolerance that one partner held for another.
Cloud was every bit as mentally stimulating as Leon guessed he would be, and finding out that he wasn't the only one with pages of private theories was nothing short of cathartic. They'd spend hours talking about personal findings and complaining about the slowness of school. For the first time the brunette felt connected to someone. Working alone at home suddenly didn't feel the same.
They hadn't passed the friendship stage yet, outside of hand-holding and the occasional kiss. Yet, he found he didn't mind: neither possessed the lust-ridden dispositions of their slightly unhinged classmates.
What he did mind, however, was the earlier look of confusion that had been etched all over Cloud's face. The blonde had said he was fine and was perfectly receptive to his small affections. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, however, and it disturbed him.
Odd squelching noises brought Leon's gaze up from his now deformed poultry to meet a saggy-looking fortress made of...mashed potatoes. An eager hand was wielding a fork with child-like enthusiasm, and the teen had to suppress an exasperated sigh.
"See, Leon?" Laguna's voice was its usual degree of peppy, and a goofy smile was stretched across his handsome features as he eagerly heaped up the puréed substance. "I made a fortress!" Jade eyes shined.
Leon gave the structure a once over before looking back down at his unsightly plate. "It will collapse in a short time period," he said dismissively. "The foundation is too unstable."
"Nonsense, son, I made it with the utmost—" There was a slopping noise as the potatoes toppled over. "—care. Damn." A distinct pout was on the journalist's face, an expression that looked somewhat unnerving to Leon on a man pushing fifty.
The younger brunette said nothing.
Laguna picked up his fork, shooting Leon a worried look. "Something wrong, son? You're quiet tonight." A wry chuckle. "Well, more so than usual."
Gray eyes flashed as he pondered the question, fork moving across porcelain in idle motions. Leon had always had problems talking to Laguna, especially after the...situation with his mother. But he couldn't deny the growing urge to discuss Cloud with someone, especially after today's episode.
"I made a...friend."
Urge or not, however, Leon wasn't stupid. There was no way in hell that he was exposing the nature of their connection to Laguna. The man would turn paparazzi on him and he'd never be able to bring Cloud over.
They'd have no peace.
Leon thought of his father's hidden microphones and shuddered.
"Really?" Laguna looked nothing short of ecstatic, and the thought that making friends shouldn't be momentous caused a small pang of bitterness within him. He quickly pushed it away in alarm when his father all but leaped over the table, nearly spilling a glass of water in his rush to reach his son. "Who are they? What are they like?"
Strong hands grasped the teen's shoulders before pulling him into a tight hug. Leon was frozen in place at the sudden display of affection and it took him several minutes to recover. "I'm so proud of you, son," the man whispered into chocolate locks, squeezing him tighter. "I was so worried that we'd scarred you—Raine and I."
He stiffened at the mention of his mother, but said nothing.
"But I—I'm happy for you, Leon." Laguna squeezed him once more before letting go, eyes warm. The teen watched as his father dropped into the adjacent seat, pulling his plate across the table and digging in. "So, tell me, what are they like?"
The question gave him pause, as he debated the best way to answer it. "We have a lot in common," he said at last.
"A bookworm like you, you mean," his father said sagely. "Guy, girl, amoeba, what?"
"He is male, dad," Leon answered, resisting the childish impulse to roll his eyes.
"Made any plans yet? You know, something fun?"
Plans.
He and Cloud hadn't done anything special since they'd started dating, content to spend the few minutes before classes and their lunch periods together. There had been several phone conversations as well and chatting online about this or that, but that was the extent of it. Leon felt mild panic rise in his chest. Should he have taken Cloud somewhere nice? Was that normal?
"Leon?"
He was jarred out of his train-wreck thoughts by the call of his name. Laguna looked concerned. "Is everything alright?"
The teen felt what little appetite he'd had vanish in the face of this realization. Standing, he picked up his plate and dumped the remains of the mutilated meal. "I am fine, father. I shall be in my room if you have need of me."
Laguna's expression was bewildered as Leon swept out of the room.
"...sure, son."
Leon was in a good mood as he strolled down the sidewalk that morning, listening to his...boyfriend chat animatedly about his scientific findings. Even thinking the b-word sent delighted tingles through him, as if someone was flicking a playful feather down his spinal column.
"...and it tested pink?" he asked, shifting his books in his grip.
"Yes. It is definitely a base. I was already aware, but I thought it prudent to double check in the event I made an error." The blonde sighed happily. "I am just pleased that everything is going according to plan."
"I am pleased for you as well, Cloud." The blonde smiled at him, and he felt his breath catch at the look in those clear blue eyes. "Actually...I wanted to inquire something of you."
Cloud cocked his head to one side, golden strands falling across his porcelain face. "What is it, Leon?"
He swallowed, throat suddenly dry. "Do—do you hold any degree of interest in astronomy?"
"Well, I do find the cosmos to be a point of intrigue." The blonde looked mildly confused at the sudden change in topic. "May I ask why that is of any importance?"
"I..." Hesitantly, he tugged a flyer free of the papers in his binder and presented it for Cloud's inspection. It had taken about an hour to find—he'd had a thousand ideas and all had been discarded before he clicked something by accident and stumbled on this place. "I was pondering the notion of whether you would enjoy an outing to a planetarium this weekend." He coughed, a pink flush spreading over the bridge of his nose. "In my company."
The rising hydrogen sphere in the sky seemed to dim in comparison to Cloud's beaming smile, light catching the metal squares and making them shine.
"I would enjoy that very much."
Leon smiled back, reaching for Cloud's hand and entwining their fingers. Their conversation drifted to other things as they continued their walk, but his buoyant mood remained. His heart felt light, almost to the point of floating out of his chest, and he doubted that anything could ruin this high. It took only a few more minutes to arrive, and even the usual bereft feeling that came with releasing the blonde's hand seemed pleasantly muted.
Until he entered the double doors.
Gravity probably decided it was sick of being mocked, he thought vaguely as he registered the hundreds of eyes fixed on his figure. That would explain the weight in his stomach that was denser than stone.
"Good morning, members of the student population. Among my peers I go by Leon Leonhart, and if one would care to ignore the asinine redundancy of my chosen moniker I have an offer to present. Like my mother before me, I have obtained an interest in harlotry and would appreciate if one would contact me in pursuit of sexual pleasure..."
The flyer went on with his contact information, but Leon too stunned to notice. The papers were everywhere—taking up almost every available inch of wall space, printed in the same large font and the same lusty red ink. He heard the whispers and laughter but registered little but overwhelming shock, not aware of his own motion until he nearly stumbled.
Cloud had him by the wrist and was dragging him to his locker, the blonde's voice trembling slightly with suppressed anger. "Don't pay them any attention, Leon. Whoever posted that is an immature idiot."
"They—" He couldn't speak. None of the things on the flyer stung as much as three particularly painful words.
Like my mother...
"It'll be okay, Leon," the younger teen whispered as they reached. "They don't matter. Get your things and I'll walk you to class, alright?"
Numbly, he turned the black dial, muscle memory granting him numbers that his mind was too frazzled to conjure. It was Cloud's choked scream as the door swung open that brought him out of his stupor.
Snails.
They covered his things. On the walls, on the locker ceiling, oozing their slimy trails on the covers of his books and the folds of his backup sweater. The blonde beside him let out a squeak as one of them fell from its upside-down perch onto his History book, its nastily colored flesh oozing out of its cracked shell.
The sight was disgusting. Leon fought the urge to reacquaint himself with his recently consumed breakfast.
Around them, the laughter grew louder. Not caring who was watching, his fingers frantically searched for Cloud's, needing some small reassurance before he lost it completely.
"We are going to the office," the blonde said quietly. "They will deal with it."
It was an hour later that he sat in class, bereft of Cloud's presence and feeling more than a little depressed. He'd come from the office with notes for his teachers, but none had minded his lack of books and waved him off with sympathetic smiles. All of his things were being trashed, his books stained beyond cleaning and the thought of donning his sweater again gave him disgusted chills.
The principal had assured him that the signs would be taken down. But the damage had been done. Every word of the cruel message was superimposed behind his eyes and he couldn't forget it.
Like my mother...
Coffee bangs swept down to curtain his face as he leaned over his work, glasses askew, scribbling frantically in an effort to ignore the staring and pointing. If there was one thing he wasn't used to, it was attention, and it seemed that every second there was the cut of a cruel gaze to snip at a wound never properly stitched.
He wanted Cloud.
But the blonde was on the other side of the building, and it would be another three hours before he got to see him again.
Another eruption of whispers came from directly in front of him and he could feel someone's hot breath on his forehead. Wild red hair caught his line of vision, framing bright green eyes like a tousled mane and making the person seem vicious, feral. The voice was lowly malicious, and every word burned into his brain like a savage iron. "Think I can get you to suck me off, Leonhart? Hope your mom showed you how to take cock!"
Despair was rising up inside him. His glasses were fogging, he couldn't see—the laughter grew louder and his resolve not to react was crumbling into bite-sized bits. He wanted to make them hurt, make them pay—no one had the right to talk about her that way.
But it's your fault, isn't it?
"Alright, we're letting the closed interval a, b be the domain of function f, and—what on earth is going on over there?" The scratching of chalk on chalkboard abruptly ceased, the teacher's pink skirt flying as she whirled around. "There is work to be done! Unless there's an invisible blackboard over there, everyone should be in their seats! Leave Mr. Leonhart alone!"
The brunette shivered in relief as the crowd retreated, lenses clearing from the absence of their breath. All his anger seemed to drain like water from a rotting sieve and he was left with little more than fatigue. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to curl in his bedsheets and sleep till graduation.
With a sigh, he continued his work, letting the teacher's voice wash over him and keeping his eyes on his paper. Ink smeared his hands as he wrote out problems, his grip tight and shaking with anger and embarrassment. Time seemed to pass agonizingly slow, the clock's hands clinging to each minute like a desperate lover before forcefully pried away.
The monotony seemed to last forever.
As usual, he finished before the rest of the class, putting the ink-stained writing utensil away and chancing a look outside his chestnut veil. Authority's eagle eyes kept the staring and pointing at bay, and the only audible noise was time's grudging metronome. A tiny, sad smile found its way to his lips. He could almost pretend that everything was normal, with the scene set so.
He was getting his desk in order when he noticed the looseleaf square, sitting innocently on a corner of the table. It was small and neatly folded, with the letters of his name penned in elegant script. Gingerly, the brunette took it between two fingers, half-expecting something nasty to be concealed within its pristine folds. He managed to unfold it using only its edges and stared in exasperation at the message inside.
Have you had an enjoyable morning? Leave Cloud alone, or more fun's in your future.
Every negative emotion he had felt that morning surged up in his chest and with a single violent motion, the message tore neatly in half.
Muted noise met Cloud's ears as a swing moved back and forth, gentle creaking telling stories of happy children. The park was deserted, only disturbed sandboxes left in the wake of toddlers that played after school. They were alone in the post-dusk darkness; the blonde leaned on a support beam and watched the brunette's fingers tighten around rusting chains.
The only light was the screen of Leon's discarded phone. He'd tossed it atop his bag in disgust, and the display still lit up every few minutes.
"Would you wish for me to expunge your cellular's memory?" he asked softly, not knowing quite what to say in this situation. He couldn't meet his boyfriend's gaze: Leon's head was angled forward and brown bangs hid the world from his eyes.
"That is not necessary, Cloud. Though I appreciate the inquiry."
"Leon—" the blonde began weakly, but Leon cut him off.
"Why would anyone have the desire to execute such an action?" The brunette's voice was rough. "I have not done anything to offend anyone at that institute."
Cloud felt his feet moving before he registered the motion. His arms threaded their way between the chains of the swing and around the older boy's shoulders from behind, and he buried his face into the fine strands of Leon's nape.
"I was not bothered by most of the message. Our peers are immature and puerile. We knew that." Leon shuddered slightly and leaned backwards, into Cloud's warmth. "But why was it necessary to bring her into it?"
They remained in that position for several quiet moments, the phone's constant vibration forgotten in the face of their thoughts. "Are you able to tell me about her?" the blonde asked at last, voice curiously hesitant. They hadn't been together for long at all, and he didn't know if he had the right to ask those types of questions.
Leon didn't seem bothered by it, though by the stiffening of his shoulders the blonde could guess his response before his spoke. "I will, eventually. But not at the moment."
"Okay."
They remained quiet for a few minutes before the brunette took Cloud's hand in his own, kneading the digits between his own fingers. "Thank you," he said quietly. "My car is not terribly far, if you would like a ride home."
The blonde squeezed him in reply before letting go. "I would like that."
They took their things and ambled out of the playground at a steady pace, the brunette's hand working his pocket in search of keys. He found them at the very bottom and fished the shiny objects free, sending two small pieces of paper to the ground in his haste.
"Leon, you dropped something." The blonde paused under a glaring streetlight, bending to pick up the object—and stopped dead, hand still outstretched and body frozen in a stunned still life.
The brunette turned, already a few paces ahead. "Did I? What was—" His voice trailed off as well as he took in the scene, his bout of anger in calculus class rushing to the forefront of his mind.
"What is this?" Cloud asked quietly, touching the ripped papers with the tips of his fingers as if he was holding contaminants. His heart was thumping, a sense of dread threatening to engulf him as his eyes traced the slanted l's, the scrunched v's, the circles dotting the i's.
What would Leon be doing with...
"Oh. That." The brunette's voice was flat. "Someone sent it to me in calculus."
The younger teen straightened from his crouched position, excruciatingly slow, as if he'd gained decades in minutes and his joints were quickly failing. "Would you mind if I kept these?"
Leon looked confused, but nodded his head in assent. "If you would like."
Stuffing the papers in his own pocket, Cloud forced a reassuring smile, catching up and taking Leon's hand even as the realization tore at his heart.
There was a spring in Zack Fair's step as he walked down the empty hallway, relishing the end of a school day and a bright-looking afternoon. His homework list for tonight was thankfully short, there was no football practice, and there was a pile of consoles just calling his name.
The senior sighed happily. Absolutely nothing could spoil his impending evening at this point.
"Sephiroth!"
He started at the sudden yell. The halls were empty, all the students outside, and he'd been sure he was alone. But the cry of the familiar name immediately spurred a series of reactions in his body and Zack felt his lofty mood take a dive bomb from the clouds.
There were things he'd been trying not to think about—but it was too late, as the thought of piercing green eyes and elegant movements had risen to his mind's eye.
"Why are you doing these things?"
It took a moment for him to realize that the voice was around the corner, and he slowed his gait, wanting to hear the impending drama. The quarterback hadn't spoken yet though obviously present, but Zack could just picture him—his tall stature towering over the speaker and eyes filled with cold fire. His heart let out a series of weird palpitations.
Zack suppressed a frustrated groan.
"I don't know what you're talking about—"
"You wrote that message Leon received." The center heard footsteps, angry ones. "I am aware we have a history, but that is no excuse for you to treat Leon in the fashion you have—"
There was a choked yelp followed by a loud bang, and the center's curiosity grew too great for him to ignore. He chanced a quick peek around the corner and had to hold in his surprised expletive: there was Sephiroth in all his glory, pinning someone to a row of lockers. Seph's back was facing him, but the tenseness of his body gave away his anger.
That long cascade of spun moonlight hid the other person completely, and disappointment bubbled up within him. He would have loved to see who had riled his stoic friend...
...who was taking the spot he had dreamed of having.
"Why wouldn't you accept me, Cloud?" Seph's hands shook the body in its grip and Zack winced at the other person's cries of pain, all amorous thoughts beginning to fade as concern formed within him. The repeated smacking of bone against metal was a jarring, nasty sound. "All I wanted was to have you, and you just—"
"You frightened me!" The person—Cloud, Zack mentally corrected—sounded pained, but there was a definite edge of fury. "How dare you even fathom being accepted when you insisted on forcing me?"
Sephiroth's movements grew more violent, and Zack frantically looked around. Where was the faculty? Why wasn't anyone coming? His conscience prodded at him to help, but he was frozen in place, unable to do anything but watch.
Sephiroth had moved, now holding Cloud's wrists in a crushing, bruising grip. Zack was now treated to a profile view and he could clearly see the dangerous glare on the quarterback's face. "I've left you alone so far, Cloud, but if I wasn't good enough for you, then—"
"I am capable of ruining you, Sephiroth."
Zack's eyes widened.
There was an intense silence, broken only by pained noises and harsh breathing. Sephiroth leaned over his captive, stare deadly enough to vaporize the blonde where he stood. Cloud didn't back down, however, and the center felt his respect for this unknown figure raise several points.
"I have the note you penned in my possession. I will prove the handwriting match to the administration and they will usurp both your position and your scholarship." Zack didn't know if Cloud had caught the minute tensing in Seph's body, but he certainly had. "I was aware that you received one for athletics. I am also aware that the Yamani family lost a significant amount in the stock market last week."
His friend was clearly dying to wrap his fingers around the blonde's neck and squeeze, even as he slowly let Cloud go. The blonde's voice held a note of smugness.
"You cannot afford what I would bring upon you," he finished tersely. "Leave Leon alone."
Without another word, Sephiroth turned and left in one direction, spine ramrod straight and silver head held high. Cloud swayed on his spot, obviously dizzy, before turning to leave. Zack regained his wits enough to stand flush against the wall and Cloud passed him, thankfully not noticing. It was long after both had left that he broke out of his stupor, trying to understand what he'd just seen.
His boyfriend was late, Leon thought impatiently as he sat alone at what was now "their" table. As usual, bookstore business was slow and no one paid him any attention—and after the last few hellish days, being ignored was a mercy. The blonde's pastry was now cold and he was debating getting another when the bell atop the door jingled.
Cloud looked a right mess.
The disheveled clothing was the first thing he noticed. The blonde's tie was loose and half undone, shirt rumpled, pocket protector missing. He was greeted with a wan smile before Cloud sat across from him, and that was when he saw them. Two identical sets of blue bruises, just emerging and making macabre bracelets around pale wrists.
His first instinct was to grab Cloud's wrists for a closer look, but he regretted doing so at the blonde's pained hiss. With gentler motions, he examined the discolorations, bringing one hand for inspection and then another.
"May I please inquire how exactly you have gotten into this state?"
"It is of no concern, Leon." Cloud drew his arms back, under the table. The brunette was surprised to see a triumphant glimmer sparkling among those emerald flecks he loved so much. "Just know that your issue has been corrected."
"Issue? Cloud, I do not comprehend this." He was utterly baffled, but the blonde appeared completely calm as he tore a piece of pastry and began to eat.
"Your assailant." Cloud looked up then, and he was surprised to see a tinge of hatred in the warm stare, frigid and hostile. "I have dealt with the situation." Leon felt the blonde's legs entwine with his under the table.
"No one will be bothering you anymore."
"Cloud..." He couldn't help himself as he rose from his seat, moving to sit next to the blonde. The pleased sigh was audible as he tentatively put an arm around the smaller teen. Blue eyes had softened and showed only affection and slight fatigue as they looked at him. "How did you accomplish this?"
"I..." The blonde looked away. "It is not relevant to us, Leon. Please, trust me and let the matter die."
He was in no way happy with that answer, but Cloud's stare begged him to accept it. With a sigh, he rested his cheek against downy, golden strands. "You are entitled a favor from me, in that case," he murmured, voice slightly muffled.
He couldn't see the blonde's face, but there was a smile in the other male's voice. "Okay."
They sat there together for the rest of the afternoon, the anxiety of the last few days slowly draining away. Cloud's earlier worries about their relationship seemed detached to him now, like an adult reading a journal of his childhood emotions. Things weren't settled between them yet, even with what they'd just dealt with, and they wouldn't be for a while. But that was alright.
Cloud knew it now. He was with the right person.
fin