Summary: Time travel. Sounds like fun, right? No. No it's not. Cloud was determined to get back home, the past be damned, but with Aerith haunting his every step it didn't look like that'd be happening any time soon. No pairings.

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Remnant of the Vacant
Chapter 2: Just Can't Win

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Cloud was pissed. Beyond pissed, as a matter of fact. He'd hoped being insubordinate and knocking out his instructor would be enough to get him kicked out of the Shinra military program. Turned out it wasn't. No, instead his superiors were delighted by his show of skill. They were now letting him train on his own, which he supposed was a good thing, since he didn't have to work with the rest of the cadets.

But he was still stuck in Shinra. And Aerith was laughing at him. Loudly.

Over the next week most the cadets learned to steer clear of him. They also learned to ignore how he often talked into the air, which Cloud found a bit odd. He had yet to be asked about it by even a single person. He'd have thought that Shinra would be more selective about who they let work for them.

Then he remembered that Hojo was the head of the science department.

When in class, Cloud generally sat in the back of the room and made paper airplanes out his "notes". There were a few classes where he found he knew even more than the teacher on the subject, but there were also a few classes where he knew nearly nothing. Tactics was a perfect example of the latter; the rest of AVALANCHE were generally the ones who took care of that sort of stuff. He was usually the one who just walked in, killed everything, and then walked out. He'd simply never needed tactics.

But he had to admit that it was a surprisingly interesting class.

Exactly one week from the day Cloud first joined—was physically forced to join—Shinra, he had his first Materia Class. Personally, he thought it was insane to give a bunch of kids materia and then tell them to run wild, but he supposed it was good to give them at least some instruction in the subject.

"Line up," the instructor grunted to the class. "You'll each get a materia and attempt to cast a spell on the target in front of you. How well you do will depend on both your experience and your aptitude towards magic. Speaking of which...How many of you have used a materia before?"

Half a dozen of the cadets raised their hands, Cloud included. The moment his eyes fell on Cloud, the instructor twitched.

"It figures," he sighed. "Who the hell let you near a materia, Strife?"

Cloud gave the older man a bright smile. "Well you see, there was this one incident with Sephiroth—"

"I'm sure," the instructor cut him off with growl. "Just...Don't blow anything up. You've already caused more than enough property damage to the building since you got here."

Cloud's smile turned razor sharp. "Are you sure about that?" he asked. In his opinion, there was no such thing as too much damage to Shinra.

The instructor ignored him in favor of passing out the materia. When in came to be Cloud's turn, the blond was almost given a Fire materia, but the instructor instantly switched it out for a Restore materia. Cloud glared at the man silently.

He liked fire.

With a sigh, Cloud fit the materia into the bracer on his wrist. The rest of his mastered materia were already there and Cloud fiddled with the idea of using one of them instead for a moment. It was surprising that no one had tried to take away any of them yet, but he though that that was most likely thanks to Aerith's intervention—it was probably the same reason why no one was capable of noticing his obviously glowing, mako-enhanced eyes.

One SOLDIER had attempted to take First Tsurugi away a few days earlier. Cloud had tossed the man through a second story window—what? He was a SOLDIER, he'd survive—while ignoring Aerith's disapproving glare. There was no way in hell he was going to let someone touch his sword.

Cloud sighed once again before holding his hand up and casting Cure. Instantly the materia glowed so brightly that the room was bathed in a blinding light. Once it had faded everyone was left groaning and blinking dark spots from their eyes.

"Dammit Strife!"

"What? It's not my fault," Cloud protested. He shot a glare at Aerith. "Did you know that it was going to do that?"

Aerith was wearing a grin that was attempting to look innocent, but failing miserably. "Of course not," she answered.

"Right," Cloud drawled sarcastically. "That's believable."

"It's not my fault if the Planet likes you."

"Oh, so now you're blaming it on the Planet? Real mature."

"You've got a lot of experience with materia," Aerith said, ignoring Cloud's comment. "It's only natural that they would respond better to you."

"Yeah, maybe, but not that much better. This isn't a side affect of the whole 'pocket dimension' thing, is it?"

"Maybe."

And there she went with the cryptic reply thing, Cloud thought with an internal sigh. He swore she did that just to toy with him. The blue eyed swordsman glanced away from Aerith and saw that the class was staring at him again. They didn't look fearful anymore—though they certainly had the first few days he'd been there—just morbidly amused.

"What?"

The instructor sighed. "Only you could manage to hurt someone with a Restore materia, Strife."

Cloud did his best to look affronted. "I didn't hurt—"

"Wagner has retina damage," the man interrupted.

Cloud suddenly noticed that the man's hand was on the shoulder of a young cadet who had his eyes tightly shut and was whimpering quietly. Cloud winced; he hadn't meant to do anything like that. Briefly, he shot another glare at Aerith.

"This is all your fault," he grumbled. This time she did look sheepish. Cloud glanced back at the instructor while lifting the Restore materia again. "I can heal him—"

"No," the instructor said quickly. "Just...Take him to the infirmary. They'll take care of him there."

Cloud shrugged and dropped his arm. "Your loss."

When Cloud turned towards the door however, he found that someone was already there, watching him. He froze for a moment, positive that he was looking at Zack. The man's features registered in his mind a second later and Cloud's shoulders drooped slightly. While this newcomer did look a lot like Zack, there were a few noticeable differences. This man was older, for one, and he was taller and broader too. His hair was also no where near as spiky as Zack's had been.

The man raised one dark eyebrow as his eyes swept over the class. "What happened, Tanner?"

The instructor straightened instantly. "Lieutenant General Angeal, sir!" he said with a salute. "There was a mishap during the cadets' practice with materia."

Angeal frowned. "His eyes?" he questioned, referring to the injured boy.

Tanner looked hesitant. "It was a Restore materia," he admitted grudgingly. "Wagner was near it when it was used and the light blinded him."

While this conversation went on, Cloud had been staring at Angeal with something akin to shock. Angeal? This was Angeal? The man who was Zack's mentor? Cloud had heard so much about him, but he'd never met the before.

Abruptly Cloud's thoughts came to a halting stop before screeching backwards. Zack! Zack was alive!

"Holy shit!" Cloud shouted while simultaneously dashing past Angeal and out the door.

"Strife!" Tanner roared after him, but he was already gone and out the door.

"Cloud?" Aerith asked as she floated along with him. She didn't have run and instead was drawn along by some invisible force. Damn ghosts.

"Zack's alive," Cloud replied shortly. His eyes were scanning each corridor he passed with unwavering intensity and a sharp skill that could only come from experience. "I've got find him—"

"You're only just realizing this now?" Aerith asked dryly. Cloud glared at her—something he seemed to be doing quite often lately—but she only shrugged. "Slow down, Cloud," she continued. "You don't know where Zack is, or even what rank he is."

That comment gave him pause and Cloud reluctantly slowed to a stop. "What do you mean?" he demanded.

"You met Zack when you were sixteen, yes?" the Cetra began patiently. "But technically right now you're fourteen. So, even if Zack was a SOLDIER 1st-class when you met him, he could be a 2nd or even 3rd right now. You don't have the faintest idea where to start looking."

Cloud scowled fiercely and proceeded to spend the next few minutes attempting to bore a hole through the wall with the force of his gaze alone. As much as he loathed admitting it, Aerith was right. He had no way to figure out where Zack was. Hell, he couldn't even ask Angeal about it because he might not have met Zack yet.

"Come on," Aerith said softly. "Let's go back, yeah?"

Cloud didn't bother to reply.

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Genesis was utterly baffled. It was not an emotion he was used to feeling, which both annoyed and intrigued him. What made the situation all the stranger was that said bafflement was caused by a young cadet who didn't look like he could be older than twenty.

But that wasn't what his registration papers said. No, Cloud Strife's age was reported as being -213. Not just 213, but negative 213. Genesis couldn't help but gape at the blond's papers. Everything on the sheets was completely and utterly bizarre.

Name? Cloud Strife. – Normal enough, if one ignored the fact that he was named after the weather and an emotion.

Hometown? "Where the ashes of the original Nibelheim now rest." – Direct quote. Curious about that one, Genesis had taken the time to do a small amount of research on the town, only to find that it had never had any major fires, let alone one large enough to burn down the "original Nibelheim".

Greatest accomplishment? Killing Sephiroth and his various clones. – Self explanatory. Genesis had seen Sephiroth not a half an hour before, which meant that he was still very much alive, and he was pretty sure the general didn't have any "clones" running around.

Previous training? Spent fifteen years mediating in the Crater on the northern continent. – Genesis wasn't entirely sure what to make of this one. It was impossible because of Strife's age—apparent, not the one he wrote down—and also impossible because people just didn't do that. Though, when it came to Strife, he was willing to make some exceptions.

Other important information? "Currently trapped in the past against my will." – ...He didn't have anything to say to that. Really, he didn't.

Genesis sighed heavily and dropped the file back onto his desk. This went far beyond odd. He was nearly ready to write Strife off as nothing more than insane cadet, if not for how his instincts screamed every time he got near the blond.

Heavy footsteps coming from the hallway reached Genesis' ears, perking his interest. It took him only a moment to calculate the approximate height and weight of the person from the sound of their footfalls and the length of their stride, and from there he recognized the visitor as Angeal Hewley, his fellow Lieutenant General. Sure enough, moments later the office door opened and the dark haired swordsman stepped inside.

"Angeal," Genesis greeted evenly. His gaze dropped back to the file before him.

Angeal grunted in reply and sank into the nearest chair with a heavy sigh. He rubbed his temple with one finger, as if to stave off an encroaching headache.

"Why can we never have a simple, uncomplicated day?" he grumbled.

Genesis glanced up with a raised eyebrow. "Uncomplicated? In Shinra? Blasphemy," he replied dryly. "...What happened anyway? You look like you've had a rough day."

Pursing his lips slightly, Angeal shrugged. "Not rough, per se, just...odd," he said. "I had to deal with a situation with a cadet materia class. One of the cadets managed to get hurt...By a Restore materia."

Now that caught Genesis' attention. He glanced up sharply, a frown stretched across his face.

"A Restore materia?" he repeated dubiously. "Did it backfire or something?"

"No. Apparently, when it was used it lit up brightly and the cadet, who was standing near the caster, got his retinas damaged. It's strange though...The other cadet, the caster, wasn't hurt at all."

Genesis chuckled briefly. "Sounds like something Sephiroth would do," he said. "Well, it sounds like either the materia malfunctioned or the cadet who cast the spell has a massive amount of magic. Who's the cadet anyway?"

"Cloud Strife."

Genesis resisted the suddenly overwhelming urge to twitch. "...Strife, you say?" he asked. Angeal quirked his eyebrow questioningly and Genesis sighed, picked up Strife's file, and tossed it to him.

The eyebrow rose a little higher at the action, but Angeal grudgingly opened the file and began to flip through. Genesis found it quite amusing to watch the swordsman's slowly falling expression as he scanned through the papers. Finally, Angeal looked back up, looking rather disturbed.

"Who is this kid?"

Genesis shrugged. He honestly didn't have an answer.

Yet.

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"What are you smiling about?"

Cloud just hummed happily, not bothering to reply. He was tapping his finger periodically on the armrest of his chair and bobbing his head, as though humming along to a song in his head. And, of course, there was a wide smile stretched across his face.

All the other cadets in the room were giving him a wide berth that day.

"Cloud?" Aerith repeated warily.

"I'm off-duty today," he finally replied. The tapping picked up speed for a moment. "First day and the only day for the next month.

Aerith's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What are you planning?" she wondered aloud.

Cloud grin widened marginally. "Planning?" he said innocently. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm just going to enjoy my off day to its fullest."

"Right. That's reassuring."

"Of course it is. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be going in 3...2...1!"

Abruptly Cloud was out of his seat and racing down the hall. The other cadets flattened themselves against the nearest walls and watched him go by with wide eyes. Cloud resisted the urge to cackle loudly for only a moment before giving in and doing so. The terrified looks he received from the receptionists as he breezed through the lobby were so worth it.

Cloud changed his course slightly once he was outside so that it took him to the Shinra parking garage, where his motorcycle, Fenrir, was currently parked. It took him only a moment to find it amongst the masses of vehicles and only a moment more to hop on it, start it up, and then drive out.

As Cloud raced through the streets of Midgar with the wind whipping through his hair, he couldn't help but finally relax. He'd missed being able to ride Fenrir whenever he wanted more than he'd realized in the past month.

When the blond headed onto the highway that lead down to the lower plate, Aerith—who was once again sitting on the front of Fenrir, much to Cloud's annoyance—instantly tensed up. She gave him a cautious look, obviously curious about where they were heading. A self-satisfied smirk was her only reply—and only warning.

Cloud was able to easily wind his way through the back roads of the slums thanks to some old drudged up memories of his time with AVALANCHE. It seemed like so long since Midgar had been destroyed, even though in reality it had only been four years. Still, four years was a long time, especially to someone like him, who had lost five years of his life.

It didn't take Aerith very long to figure out where Cloud was headed. It took an even shorter amount of time for her to begin to protest vehemently.

"No," she said firmly. "No, no, no. You're not heading to my church! What if I—er, my past self, or...Whatever!—am there?"

"That's the whole point," Cloud answered cheerfully. If Aerith was going to make his life hell, then it was only polite to return the favor. "Besides, won't this help me to 'forgive myself'?"

Aerith's mouth opened and closed silently several times as she attempted to find some way around Cloud's words. Finally her mouth closed with an audible click and she settled for glaring at him instead. The swordsmen smiled smugly.

Cloud pulled up in front of Aerith's church and cut the engine. He took a moment to stare up at the majestic building, marveling at how pristine it looked when compared to his memories. Back home—in the "real world", as Aerith put it—the ceiling was almost nonexistent and the entire area was littered with debris.

And, of course, one couldn't forget the giant pool in the floor.

It was nice to see the church undamaged as it'd once been, Cloud had to admit. That certainly didn't mean that he wanted to be here, but...Maybe it wasn't quite so bad.

The blue eyed man walked into the church with more confidence than he was actually feeling. His gaze was glued on the masses of flowers at the far end of the building, where a young girl was kneeling.

"This...is decidedly odd," the Aerith beside Cloud murmured.

Cloud snorted in reply. "You think?" he shot back. "How do you think I feel?"

At the sound of his voice, the younger girl before him whirled around, surprise clear on her face. A soft "Oh!" slipped from her lips.

"Greetings, last of the Cetra," Cloud said in a forced flat voice. Internally he cackled gleefully as her eyes widened marginally. "It's nice to finally get a chance to meet you; I've heard much about you."

"...From who?" she asked cautiously. She had slowly stood up and looked ready to bolt at any moment.

"The gnomes," Cloud replied with a grave nod.

Aerith's jaw dropped—both of them. "What?" they said incredulously at the same time.

Cloud struggled his keep his face straight, but thankfully had years of experience to help him. "Yes, the gnomes," he continued. "You know, the ones that steal your socks and hide your pens. Those gnomes."

The older Aerith snorted. "Oh please," she scoffed. "Like my younger self is going to believe that—"

"The...gnomes...told you about me?"

Cloud shot ghost-Aerith a victorious grin. "Yes," he replied. "They hide in the life stream, you know."

Ghost-Aerith's jaw dropped again. "Are you calling me a gnome?" she demanded.

The blond just smiled innocently. Meanwhile, the younger Aerith looked torn between bursting out laughing and running off. Cloud nodded solemnly once again and turned to leave.

"Remember," he said as he walked out. "The gnomes are always watching, waiting for a chance to molest your socks."

Seeing the wide-eyed expression on her counterpart's face, ghost-Aerith didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

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A/N: Wow that got really weird towards the end there. And now I can't get the image out of head of a solemn looking Cloud explaining the "threat of the gnomes" to Vincent. (twitches) Sufficiently amusing, but also utterly bizarre.

Anyway, I have a lot of fun writing this story because it's a break from the much more serious stories that I usually write. Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon...But I doubt it, since I've got so much other stuff I'm working on. Regardless, I'll finish as soon as I can.

And by the way, the gnomes do exist, I swear. Every single fucking time I put the pen I'm using down it disappears and I have to spend five minutes searching for it. It was marginally amusing the first time, but after the five hundredth time it just makes me want to maul nearest inanimate object—preferably something small and furry. Maybe a stuffed animal...

Please let me know what you think!

[Eternal]