An odd plot bunny that decided to join the dog-pile with the other plot bunnies that are working to smother me. This is me, trying to clear the pile, if even by just a little bit at a time. This is an AU fic; in this case, ShinRa did not take Sephiroth away as a baby; they didn't take him at all. So, Sephiroth is stuck with Hojo until...well, this happens. Just one possible outcome in my head that could have happened if everything had been just right.
Rated for language and angst. :D
Can't believe this became the monster it is...over 6000 words. Wow, I ramble. Enjoy and review!
He had no memory of his situation ever being different than what it currently was.
He lived in a twelve by twelve room, with a cot, a desk and chair, and a single bookshelf that housed only a few tomes. The floor was bare, faded wood, and the color of the walls and ceiling were a dank grey. He had lived most of his life in this room, save for when he had been forced down the spiral staircase, and into the labs.
Even though he hated being locked up in his room, he would gladly stay put for the rest of his life if that meant never having to go back to Hojo's lab, to never have to endure the needles, the constant tests and the constant sneering comments from the man himself.
Under Hojo, Sephiroth learned pain, despair, and loneliness. The few lab technicians had little to no pity for him, and he learned early on to shun any physical affection that they might otherwise lavish on him. Because of Hojo, he learned to shut himself away, to make his face appear devoid of any emotion, and to enjoy being lonely. When Hojo noticed, he approved. To show his approval, he ran his never-ending tests irregularly.
Hojo had still had hope for him. He had been told more than once by the professor that while ShinRa did not initially accept him for their own, he would have other chances, and oh would he show them! He would be a god among men, the best of the best, and he would be Hojo's greatest success.
And so he was sent tutors, who sat as far from him as possible in his cramped tiny room, educating him about reading, writing, arithmetic, and tactics. He enjoyed reading, though he seldom came across any material that readily held his interest. His other favorite subject was tactics; he enjoyed thinking over strategies, and making up his own. In his free time, he would spend hours in his small room, pretending that one stack of books were home base, the bed was Mount Nibel, and the various trinkets and junk items he found scattered throughout the mansion were his troops. In his daydreams, he was a General, and his troops were his world. He would lead them to victory after victory, and in his mind, he fought alongside them, as he would were he even inducted into any worthy brotherhood. Even though he was feared by those around him, in the deepest part of his heart, he hoped to one day belong.
He felt as close to happy as he had ever felt when a sword instructor was sent to him. Hojo had said that to impress the ShinRa, they must train Sephiroth to fight, and to prove his prowess on the battlefield and his value to the company. Now his afternoons were spent outside-a rare treat for him to begin with, now with the added benefit of exercise. His instructor was a severe, but quiet man, and did not openly show his approval for Sephiroth. He did not praise the boy; indeed, Sephiroth knew he had done a kata perfectly if the man said nothing at all. He did show a soft side though, if Sephiroth showed an interest in the small garden or the occasional small animal that wandered through, and would often gruffly tell him to take a break, and shoo Sephiroth to go investigate what interested him. When Sephiroth asked him about this, his teacher merely snorted, and stated that everyone needed a hobby, even future killing machines. He then proceeded to give Sephiroth a solid beating with the practice sticks, a small smirk on his bearded face when Sephiroth recovered quickly, and started striking back.
It was nearly three years after he was apprenticed to the man when Sephiroth received his first, and only, present: Masamune, an elegant, long blade that immediately felt right at home in his hand. Sephiroth was speechless as he ran his gaze along the beautiful weapon. His master understood his awed silence, and nodding approvingly, continued with their practicing.
It was shortly after he received Masamune that Hojo started setting his experiments on Sephiroth, cackling and chuckling as he watched the boy dance, doge, dip, dive, and duck around the monsters as Hojo stood, safe behind glass, taking notes. Sephiroth hated these sessions, hated that his newfound skill was being put to use as executioner for Hojo's experiments, but he could do nothing about it, not unless he wanted to give Hojo more ammunition. Hojo's experiments on Sephiroth had turned nightmarish- he longed for the days when the worst he could expect was a few shots from needles, and pages of awkward questions that would make any sane teenage blush. He earned scars for his successes, mako burns for his obedience, and broken bones for his silence. He suffered through it all, and learned to shelve these memories of pain and torture onto a dusty, never-used shelf in the back of his mind where he rarely ventured, and that made it bearable.
Then, without warning, it all changed.
He remembered that day clearly; he had been sitting at his desk, studiously working on his homework laid out by his math tutor when Hojo had burst in without so much as a warning chuckle or knock.
Apparently, judging by the fact that Hojo was now throwing him around while clutching his silver hair, he had failed some key test.
Hojo was mad with rage; yelling and screaming things that did not make sense to the boy, save for snatches of words. "ShinRa!" "Failure!", and "Dispose of you!"
He had often heard that phrase "Dispose of you" from Hojo, and it was always to experiments who had failed, and who no longer served any other purpose.
He knew what happened to them.
He wasn't sure when he reached a conclusion, but when Hojo's limp body crashed to the floor, and the mansion blurred into nothingness that then burst into whiteness- then Sephiroth realized that he had fled the only home he had ever known with Masamune in hand, and had quite possibly killed his care-taker.
Shouts and the sound of gunfire drew him from his thoughts, and without another wasted second, Sephiroth fled from his pursuers, and vanished into the mountains.
It was a terrifying first night in those mountains, but he had survived. His pursuers had given him up once darkness had fallen, and Sephiroth soon realized why.
The wolves that seemed to emerge from darkness itself were nightmares, even to someone who had trained for years as he had. Larger than any other wolves he had seen described in his books, these monsters easily came to his chest, and had the build of lions, complete with a furry mane that made it difficult to slice their necks.
He survived that night by settling in a small cave, shivering with his back against the wall, and his sword clutched in his numb hands, alternating between fitful sleep and wakefulness when the wolves came calling. It helped that he was clothed only in his sweatpants and tee-shirt, and that the constant howling of the wolves kept him wide awake.
The next morning dawned, and he noticed that the sky was foretelling a storm- probably a blizzard, if his understanding of the seasons in this area were correct. The only time it didn't threaten snow here was in high summer, or early fall.
What that morning taught him was that mountain inhabitants could not be picky eaters, as he watched the remaining wolves drag off the carcass of one of their fallen, already nibbling and tearing chunks from it as they went.
So Sephiroth followed their example, and after carefully skinning the animal and gathering the proper supplies, had wolf meat cooking over a small fire a few hours later. He clumsily fashioned a cloak out of the skin, and though he was far from toasty, it at least made him feel warmer as the night came early to the mountains and the temperature plummeted.
Several days passed in similar fashion; he fought off the wolves at night, which never seemed to decrease in number, and by day he cooked and foraged for his food, gathered more firewood, and gingerly explored the area around his temporary home.
He was shocked to find that his pursuers had never followed him further than the foothills, and that there was a small village just on the other side of the ridge.
Curiosity eventually got the better of him one day, and strapping his blade to his back, stealthily made his way into the village. While he knew he really had nothing to fear from normal people, years under Hojo's thumb made him wary nonetheless. It was always the small, weak ones that were cunning and fast, he had learned. And they were nearly always the ones to watch out for.
When he arrived, he was amazed by what he saw- so many people that dressed strangely (not a white coat in sight!), and smaller beings that ran around hooting and hollering…children, he thought they were called. Yes, that sounded right. Unsure of the situation, he stationed himself in a tight alleyway, hidden by garbage canisters that stank of rotten meat the butcher had thrown out.
His attention was caught by a small boy with the strangest hair Sephiroth had ever seen- the blonde spikes reminded him of a Chocobo's backside, at least from the pictures he had seen of the giant birds. Curiously, while the other children took after the wolves and ran in packs, this one seemed alone, aloof, and…
Sephiroth blinked, confused by the gentle tugging in his chest. The other boy seemed…sad. Lonely, even.
He ducked back when the boy jerked, head whipping around to stare at the spot where Sephiroth hid. The boy did not blink, and Sephiroth did not breathe.
Eventually, the boy turned away, and with the sounds of other children coming nearer, quietly made his escape before the other boys could spot him.
Sephiroth made the trip to that village every day he could from that day forward; no one ever saw him, and he never approached the blonde child, but even so, he felt that perhaps he could help the other boy's loneliness just by being in the same area.
It wasn't long after this habit became ingrained that he came one day to find his quiet blonde companion in what looked like a training simulation with several other children.
His quiet, nameless friend was fast, and tougher than his frail frame stated. Where the other children seemed to have strength on their side, the boy had speed and cunning in his favor.
Sephiroth watched this unfold from his hiding spot, his pride and confidence in the other boy faltering when the other children did not let up on their punches and kicks, even though clearly they were supposed to leave him alone now that he was down and curling around himself-
Before he knew what was happening, he was moving. The other bodies flew away with startled cries, and with a few well placed punches, Sephiroth sent the rest running.
He glanced down at the fallen child, who was peeking up at him from between his arms, where he was cradling his head, still ready to curl back into a ball to protect himself.
Sephiroth did not blame him. He knew how intimidating he could be after a fight, even if he was still a teenager.
"…thank you," the boy murmured.
Sephiroth blinked. That was…unexpected. Polite, of course, but still unexpected.
He winced when he heard yelling that was getting closer- the children had run and informed the adults.
Without a word, he turned and ran full-tilt back to his cave, his sanctuary.
That night, the wolves did not come, and for the first time in weeks, Sephiroth slept the whole night through.
A trembling, earth-shaking roar woke Sephiroth the next morning, and without thinking, he grabbed his sword and dashed out of his cave.
It didn't take all that long to track the source of the noise down, and Sephiroth paused for a moment to take in the creature.
Large, reptilian (though he thought they wouldn't make it here in the mountains, being cold-blooded and all), and with wings, currently trying to dig something out of a hole-
He saw a flash of yellow in that hole, and his mind was made up.
The green dragon fell with a silent snarl still fixed on its' face, and Sephiroth withdrew his sword with a smooth, quick motion, flicking the remaining blood off his sword.
His instincts had been correct- it was the blonde child from the village.
The spiky hair emerged from the hole first, cautiously peeking up at Sephiroth. The child seemed to deign him not a threat, and climbed out of his hiding spot.
"Thanks again," the boy said, this time offering a shy smile. "Sorry you had to go to all that trouble."
"It was no trouble," Sephiroth said, and it was true. He had fought harder battles with some of Hojo's rejected experiments.
"I'd guess that, from the lack of Nibel Wolves in the area at this time of year," the child said, looking Sephiroth dead in the eye. "Have you been killing them off?"
Sephiroth nodded slowly. "Yes. They've been attacking me every night since…since…" He frowned. "For several weeks, I have fought them off nightly. They just keep coming."
"That's because they can come back from the dead."
Sephiroth stared at the small child before him who spoke in such an earnest tone, he wanted to believe him. But the idea that animals could come back from the dead was-
"Ludicrous," he breathed, eyeing the downed dragon warily now. "Nothing can come back from the dead."
"Nibel Wolves can, and do. They're special."
That simple statement of fact made Sephiroth chuckle. "I guess they are. They left me alone for the first time last night. I was actually able to sleep."
"You live around here?" the boy asked, blue eyes widening. "But there's no cabins or shacks on this side, and there's only a cave…wait, you live in a cave. With winter coming in a few more months? Are you nuts?"
Sephiroth, under Hojo's tender loving care, had been called many things: magnificent, experiment, divine, godlike, beautiful, strong, and even the occasional 'lovely'. He had never been called 'nuts'.
He found it rather amused him.
"Yes."
"You originally lived in the old ShinRa mansion, didn't you?"
The boy's insight was startling, to say the least. "How did you know?"
The blonde shrugged, head bobbing apologetically as he stepped closer. "Some of the guards would come to the village to get drinks in the off hours, and a few of them liked to talk about an experiment of Hojo's that they thought was both terrifying and beautiful." The boy looked up, face flushed either from the suddenly biting wind or embarrassment. "And you fit the bill."
The boy froze when light gleamed from the blade in Sephiroth's hand. "I am not going back," Sephiroth said softly. "Do you understand, boy? I won't go back."
"And I wouldn't send you back," the boy murmured softly. "Put the sword down, I won't hurt you."
As if he could, Sephiroth thought, but obeyed, strapping his blade back onto his back. He was wary of this small child, and would have to remain on his guard until he knew the boy better.
He frowned. He wanted to believe the other boy…badly. But experience was making him very hesitant to continue the conversation, let alone pursue a friendship with the other.
"I'm Cloud," the boy said, offering a shaky smile. "Thanks again, you know, for the boys and the dragon."
Sephiroth stared at him for a long moment before coming to a decision. At least the boy hadn't tried to touch him, thank gods.
"I am Sephiroth," the other stated. "And you are welcome."
Apparently, the boy had been tracking him since the night before, and had brought some meager supplies that Sephiroth nonetheless was grateful for.
"Here's some lighter fluid," Cloud said, pointing out the white bottle. "For when it's too wet to get the wood started on your own. This is a pack with the stuff to set up a cot-not the most comfortable, but definitely better than sleeping on the ground. Here's a sleeping bag to help keep you warm, and here's some Nibel Wolf repellent. It won't work if they are starving and mad, but if they're healthy, it'll keep them away. Here's some actual clothes; I can't believe you haven't frozen yet, even with the extra pelts. I also brought some food to make stew."
"Stew?" Sephiroth asked, head cocked as he looked up from assembling his cot.
"Yeah; it's a Nibelheim staple," Cloud said, looking at the meat that was currently being burnt over the fire in the cave. "And one of the most coveted ingredients is Nibel Wolf."
"I'll try anything that offers the chance of a different taste than just wolf," Sephiroth frowned. "I know I can't be picky, but gamey-tasting wolf gets old really fast."
Cloud laughed, and Sephiroth smiled. He…he liked this small child. There was no need to showcase his strength to the boy; he knew how strong he was already. There was no need to hide from the boy; he could be himself.
He wondered if this comfort with another was what friendship was like. If so, it was worth pursuing, in his opinion.
"How old are you, Cloud?"
The boy shifted, looking embarrassed now. "Um…I'm going to turn thirteen in another month."
Sephiroth blinked. Oh. He had thought the boy to be around eight or so. He really was small for his age.
"How old are you?"
"Eighteen."
Now it was Cloud's turn to blink. "Wow, really? You don't look it."
Sephiroth smirked, eyes turning sly as he looked at the suddenly nervous-looking boy. "And how old do I look?"
"Early twenties I thought," Cloud answered, shifting slightly. "Sorry, that was rude of me."
"No, that's alright. I don't mind."
And to Sephiroth's surprise, he really did not mind.
Life settled for Sephiroth, and with that settlement came the routine, and expectation for him.
Every day, Sephiroth would awaken, greet the day with an hour long kata exercise, and then gather some of his essentials, and head over the crest, and meet up with Cloud in Nibelheim. They always met in private, of course, so the guards who were still looking for Sephiroth would not see him. Normally they met up in an alleyway, just to talk or for Sephiroth to show Cloud some basic hand-to-hand techniques. The boy, while lacking the strength to be a real powerhouse now, was a fast learner, and even faster on his feet. Sephiroth held the private thought that with proper training, Cloud would be an excellent training partner for him, and an equal. He started dreaming of the day that they would one day leave to go on adventures, and they would become known far and wide as an excellent team; Sephiroth with his strength and grace, and Cloud with his speed and cunning.
It was odd, but while touching was a normal part of hand-to-hand combat, Sephiroth was still unused to it outside of the fighting ring. Thankfully, Cloud wasn't the most touchy-feely person anyway, so when he did touch Sephiroth, it was rarely and usually for a good reason. Like alerting Sephiroth that they were being stalked by wolves one evening, or drawing Sephiroth from his inner musings when Cloud had something important he needed to say.
Over the next year, this pattern was uninterrupted save for four times.
The first time was when Hojo found Sephiroth in Nibelheim; Sephiroth defended himself from the guards, but it was Cloud who finished Hojo. The former mad scientist was last seen plummeting from the cliffs, screaming and cursing his head off. The guards retreated, and from then on, the only people Sephiroth saw in the mansion were strange people dressed in suits that always watched, but never acted. Sephiroth left them alone, and they returned the favor.
The second time was shortly after Hojo's demise. Cloud had not been wounded during the short scuffle, but Sephiroth had been scratched by one of the guard's weapons, and while this normally would not have bothered him, for some reason his incredible immune system failed him spectacularly. Two days later, Sephiroth did not make it to Nibelheim to meet Cloud; he couldn't even pick himself up from his cot, he was so disoriented, and burning with fever. Cloud came rather quickly; one moment Sephiroth was moaning for someone, anyone, even Hojo for god's sakes to come and help him. Then, Cloud was there, cursing up a storm as he danced about the spinning cave, making Sephiroth close his eyes and wince. Everything he looked at, no matter how still or bland, was too much or too intense, and made him wish to vomit. His body and mind calmed somewhat when Cloud set a cold rag to his flushed face, and spoke to Sephiroth in oddly soft, soothing tones that he found, for some reason, comforting. He wasn't alone anymore, and Cloud was promising to stay and take care of him. Sephiroth drifted off, exhausted.
Over the next few days, Cloud helped nurse Sephiroth back to help. Sephiroth reasoned that he had been poisoned by one of the weapons the guards had cut him with, and tried to help speed along his own recovery, much to Cloud's exasperation.
"Sephiroth, you're going to have a relapse."
Even though Cloud's voice was still soft and controlled, Sephiroth heard the impatient tone in it.
"I need to get strong again, before we're attacked by wolves or more of Hojo's ilk," the older boy retorted, hands gripping Masamune unrepentantly. "Besides, isn't it good to keep the body in shape?"
"Not. When. You're. Sick."
Sephiroth ignored him, much to his later regret.
The runt had been right, he thought unhappily a few hours later as he writhed and shivered under his blankets. His fever was back with a vengeance, and now he was suffering from vivid nightmares that had him crying out and screaming.
The first time Cloud tried to pull him out of his fitful sleep, Sephiroth nearly sent them both toppling to the floor as he struggled, eyes wide and unseeing as he continued to cry out, still dreaming.
"Sephiroth!"
He awoke slowly, and stilled beneath the other boy, chest heaving from both fear and exhaustion. "Wh-what-?"
"You were having a nightmare," Cloud said, and gently ran a hand through Sephiroth's sweat drenched hair.
Sephiroth was too weak to protest or pull away, and eventually he found the repetitive movements quite soothing, and when Cloud started to softly tell him a story about a Chocobo who lost his herd and tried to find his way back, Sephiroth drifted back to sleep, this time nightmare free.
While he was still sick, he had only one more nightmare, and Hojo was the main component. He could not awaken from it until Cloud had shaken him hard for several minutes. Sephiroth had stared up at the younger boy, eyes darting around the cave, looking for the man who had made his life hell. Seeing no one else, Sephiroth indulged himself, and tugged Cloud down against him, shivering and crying out softly. Cloud squirmed a little before settling in with a soft sigh, and stroked Sephiroth's hair again, murmuring gentle things that did not make sense or register in Sephiroth's mind but were nice nonetheless.
Cloud didn't start asking questions until Sephiroth was almost fully recovered.
"Is Hojo the reason you…you have all those marks?"
Sephiroth answered before he could stop himself. "Yes. I was his greatest experiment…until I failed to impress the ShinRa."
"You ran?"
Sephiroth paused, turning to look at the boy, who waited apprehensively. This boy had stuck with Sephiroth through a terrifying fight with ShinRa guards, Hojo, and now had spent weeks nursing Sephiroth back to health, at the expense of his own, he noted suddenly, taking in the bags under Cloud's eyes.
He thought, perhaps, he could trust him.
"Yes. He had…grabbed me, and said that he would get rid of me. I used to get rid of his other experiments," he murmured, burrowing slightly deeper into the blankets, turning his gaze back to Cloud as he did so. "I knew he would dispose of me if he found me worthless. I fought back, and ran."
Cloud mused over this for a moment, before nodding slowly. "Then I don't regret killing him."
And that was that. Cloud did not prod Sephiroth for anymore facts, and Sephiroth realized that yes, he could trust Cloud. After he had fully recovered, and they were back on their normal schedule of meeting up and training, Sephiroth noticed that Cloud would touch him more often now. Nothing major; a touch to the shoulder here, a gentle smack to the back of the head when Sephiroth called him runt, or the occasional bony elbow jab to his ribs when he would make an off-color comment about Cloud's fighting style.
The third time their routine was interrupted was when Cloud dragged Sephiroth home for the winter, and Sephiroth met Cloud's mother. THAT was interesting, to say the least. Instead of asking him normal questions like 'Who are you', 'What do you do', and 'Why are you hanging out with my beautiful child who is far too young for you', she simply looked him over, smirked, and said that she had expected him to be taller, and then promptly asked him if he would like some pie.
It was the best time of his life, at the Strife household. He was fed until he felt stuffed, Cloud's mother was kind and engaging; when she found out he liked to strategize, she broke out the old family Chess board, Hazard, and her personal favorite, BattleChocobo. She was even thrilled when she lost to Sephiroth- seven times in a row. After that, Sephiroth let her win once or twice, just to try to be polite.
It was awkward the first night though.
"I hate that I can't give you your own bed, but we're tight on space as it is, and, well," Cloud's mother fretted, offering Sephiroth a slightly apologetic look. "You'll have to bunk with Cloud."
Sephiroth was fine with sleeping on the floor, but Cloud wouldn't have it.
"It's freezing on the floor," he pointed out, and even in his sleeping bag with extra blankets, Sephiroth still felt the chill.
"Get up here."
And so, Sephiroth climbed cautiously into bed with the smaller boy. He stiffened when Cloud snuggled against his back, but relaxed when the younger boy did nothing else.
"You're not used to people touching you like this, are you?" Cloud mumbled sleepily.
"No, no I'm not."
"I won't hurt you."
Sephiroth smiled, unseen in the darkness, as he remembered those burning, feverish nights back in his cave when Cloud took care of him. "I know."
"And trust me that it is better like this instead of freezing your ass off."
Sephiroth smirked, and leaned back against Cloud. "If you say so."
After that first night of initial awkwardness, Sephiroth had no problem whatsoever climbing into bed, so long as Cloud was his bedmate. What shocked him was one morning when Cloud's mother walked in on them before they had awoken, and had politely asked him to follow her where they could talk in private.
"Like this house is big enough for that kind of privacy," Cloud snorted, turning his back to the two of them in the corner and getting dressed.
Cloud's mother, while as short as her son, could present a very intimidating front when she was trying to protect her only child.
"Sephiroth, I don't know what they taught you up in that mansion, but when a boy is as old as you, they don't share beds with others," she said sternly. "I realize that it is rather cold on the floor, but Cloud…Cloud is…"
"He is a very attractive boy," Sephiroth supplied softly. He knew it was a sore spot with his smaller comrade, who normally clammed up whenever a passerby would comment on his looks. One time Cloud had actually beaten a classmate with one of his shoes because the other boy had made a comment that sounded something along the lines of 'cock-sucking pretty boy', whatever that meant.
"Yes, yes he is," Cloud's mother continued, seeming to inflate slightly as she became more territorial. "And if you have any ideas of taking advantage of him-"
"You mean sexually?" Sephiroth said blandly.
"How else would I mean it?" she squawked, sounding almost birdlike.
"Well, I was thinking just the other day how easy it would be for him to become a common cat burglar," Sephiroth droned. "He'd be able to slip into houses very easily, and with me as the brains of the outfit, he would likely never be caught."
The woman snorted, and offered the teenager a smirk. She seemed to understand his humor, for which he was relieved.
"Be that as it may, if you have any designs on corrupting my baby-"
"Mom, I'm a teenager now, I'm nearly full-grown!" Cloud said, tapping his foot as he leaned against his bedroom wall.
"That may be true," she said, "However, I think that since I have more life experience than you, I would know what I'm talking about. And since you've decided to plop yourself down in our private conversation, I'll make you a part of it. Cloud, I know you like your friend Sephiroth here-"
"MOM!" Cloud blushed. "What-"
"After all, why would you bring him in for the winter if you didn't like him?" she continued, ignoring his continued spluttering and Sephiroth's interested gaze. "Now, I know he might be unsure to the social customs, or most human interaction in general, but you shouldn't take advantage of him either. He probably wouldn't know what was going on, and that would be a very nasty trick of you to do that to him."
"What-"
"He might be older, but in many ways he's like a small child. Did you know that he didn't know what hugs were until a few days ago?"
Cloud blinked, and turned to Sephiroth. "Really?"
"I was surprised, and thought she was trying to strangle me," Sephiroth said stiffly. "I did replace the pie dish, however."
"It wasn't your fault dear," the woman said kindly. "Anyway, treat each other nicely. Mrs. Grubbin will be over in about two hours to go over your lessons, and I'll be at the butcher's taking orders until around three. Behave you two!"
And with that, she whisked out of the room.
Sephiroth glanced over at Cloud, who when he noticed Sephiroth was looking at him again, blushed anew.
"You…like me?" Sephiroth said slowly.
"Yes. You're the nicest, kindest, and most gentle person I've met," Cloud muttered. "And you don't treat me…like I'm bad, or an outsider."
Sephiroth cocked his head. He had never been called gentle before; he rather liked it. "How am I gentle?"
"When you're asleep, sometimes you move around, and you end up hugging me," Cloud said, looking out the window as if it were no big deal. "And even though I've seen how strong you are, you're as gentle as a lamb when you hold me in your sleep."
Sephiroth blinked. "Oh. I apologize if I've made this unpleasant for you-"
"Don't," Cloud interrupted, looking sheepish. "I, um, liked it."
Sephiroth considered him, then slowly nodded. "So…we are friends, then?" he asked haltingly. He did not like to use that word; it seemed beyond his reach, unattainable. But what else could he call Cloud? Cloud, who knew exactly who and what he was, and stayed with him anyway? Cloud, who brought him out of his shell, out of the mountains, and even into his own room? Cloud, who fought against and destroyed Hojo and who nursed Sephiroth back to health?
Cloud nodded. "Definitely friends for life," he smiled.
Sephiroth nodded, face solemn. "Is there a ritual for this, or a ceremony?"
Cloud chuckled, and shook his head. "Not that I know of, but some friends come up with secret gestures or handshakes that is unique only to them, if you wanna do that instead."
Sephiroth thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Yes. I know exactly what it could be."
He noticed Cloud stopped breathing when he bent forward, and he didn't resume breathing until his forehead touched the other boy's. With a gentle nudge, Sephiroth pulled back, smiling bemusedly at Cloud's rapt face.
"Are you okay Cloud?"
Cloud let out his breath, and nodded, laughing as he ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I just thought you were…you know…"
"What?"
Cloud shuffled his feet. "Ithoughtyouweregoingtokissme."
Sephiroth took a second to process that, and when he did, his eyes widened ever so slightly. Cloud had thought-
"What was that, anyway?" Cloud asked, interrupting his thoughts.
"A head butt. I've seen the Nibel Wolves do that when greeting pack mates, and thought it seemed more friendly than a simple handshake."
"Appropriate too, for us," Cloud mused.
"Indeed."
And with that, they went downstairs to greet Mrs. Grubber for their lessons.
The last time this routine was broken was in the spring, when Cloud's mother passed away.
Sephiroth came over the crest that day like he normally did, and did not see his blonde friend. Concerned, he headed into town.
A small procession passed by his hiding spot, and his heart stopped when he saw Cloud following behind slowly, eyes deadened, dressed in a suit and carrying white lilies.
Sephiroth followed the small party to the graveyard, listened to the simple sermon, and watched the small gathering pay their last respects to the woman who had taught Sephiroth both how to play Chess, and make pies.
He ventured out when Cloud was the only one left, kneeling at the freshly turned earth, lilies clutched tightly in hand.
"What happened?" Sephiroth murmured.
"She died in her sleep," Cloud said, voice devoid of emotion. "She's had a nasty cough for a few years now, but I didn't know…she never told me…"
Sephiroth nodded, suddenly understanding. The woman had had a cough when he stayed during the winter, but had assured them both that it was just that- a cough, a tickle in her throat, nothing more.
"Sephiroth," Cloud whispered, voice cracking ever so slightly. "I…I don't want to…go back. I don't want to go home to an empty house."
Sephiroth nodded, and without another word, led the way back to his cave.
That night, it was Sephiroth who pulled Cloud against him to cuddle, and who hung onto him throughout the night, throughout the yelling, screaming, and crying that seemed to explode from his small friend. He weathered through it silently, occasionally rubbing Cloud's back, or doing what Cloud had done for him; an occasional hand running through the boy's unruly hair seemed to help with the sobbing, so Sephiroth used it through the night, up until his friend dropped off to sleep, exhausted.
Sephiroth did not sleep; he watched over his grieving friend, and let his mind wander where it would.
He grieved silently for the woman who had been kind to him, and had grown to like him enough to want to protect him from Cloud and himself. He silently promised her that he would watch over her son, if only to repay her kindness to him, let alone for just being a friend to Cloud.
He mused over Cloud as well. He wasn't really sure what to think; yes, they were friends, but Sephiroth often wondered if there was something more to their relationship than that. His friend was young, but not stupid or completely ignorant when it came to the ways of the world; in all fairness, Cloud tended to know more things about the social norms, social activities, and even sexuality than Sephiroth did. He was interesting, and seemed to understand Sephiroth rather well, which, understandably, was nice. He also had the potential to be a wonderful sparring partner and rival for him, which Sephiroth was eager to test; he enjoyed nothing more than sparring with Cloud, and the idea that one day, perhaps soon, they would drop hand-to-hand and move onto sword-work…Oh, yes, Sephiroth felt like a small child on Christmas Eve; eager and impatiently waiting. And Sephiroth would have had to have been completely blind and senile to deny that Cloud was attractive. His frame, while lean, was starting to get stronger, and the blonde hair and blue eyes didn't detract from his appeal either.
His mother was right to worry about him, he mused as he gently tousled Cloud's hair when the boy stirred restlessly. He was thinking impure thoughts about a child who was six years younger, after all.
Sephiroth wasn't quite sure what he wanted from the other boy; however he did know that he was happiest when Cloud was nearby. So, that meant that he would stay with Cloud no matter what.
The next morning dawned, and when Cloud quietly told Sephiroth that he was going to say goodbye to Nibelheim and join the ShinRa army to become a SOLDIER, Sephiroth merely nodded, gathered his things, and followed Cloud over the ridge, away from Nibelheim, and into their new life together.