Death was cold.
A ringing in his ears drowned out distant voices, their shouted words lost to the wind. The edge of consciousness was a dim place, where somehow the blood flowing outside of Cloud's body, trickling from his wounds like lava to the pavement under him, felt warmer than the blood in his veins.
No matter how many close calls they had, the adrenaline tasted the same. Any moment, he'd feel the familiar burn of life returning to him.
A feather floated down to him. In his fading state, he assumed it was his salvation and reached for it. As he brought the shape in, which had only been a silhouette against the mixture of smog and light pollution above, he realized something was wrong.
Phoenix Down wasn't black.
Soot was his first guess, soot was what he wished it was, but he knew better.
The feather ignited anyway.
Cloud gasped and shot up as not only his life force but the world around him caught fire, the loathed figure of his supposed savior standing in the flames with him, his back was to Cloud, yet the figure was unmistakable.
Gratefulness wasn't on Cloud's mind.
"You won't even let me die."
Sephiroth had his eyes on the sky. "You think so?"
Cloud steadied himself on his feet. He knew how this would end; he'd rush Sephiroth with his sword drawn, miraculously miss or hit only air, and he'd wake up having done something horrible. Despite knowing the ending, he drew his heavy blade anyway. "Why?" he asked. "Over and over. Why?"
"I wonder when you'll understand," replied Sephiroth, at last turning to face him. His wing was a stark shadow against the flames, the depths of blackness in it so deep it seemed to suck out the light around it. "There's nothing you can do that's beyond the scope of me, Cloud. Fire kills you, then it revives you." He stroked his primary feathers, pensive. "I'm the falcon that hunts you and the phoenix that gives you life. Haven't I told you as much before?"
I am your everything.
There was nowhere to run from Sephiroth's shadow, not even back into the fire surrounding them. Sephiroth would reconstruct him from ashes as many times as it took for Cloud to give up.
His entire existence was eclipsed by Sephiroth, who had come before him, and still lingered after him.
Potent, acidic wrath simmered in Cloud's gut, yet another reaction he knew Sephiroth would praise. Every card he had was a win for Sephiroth. The totality of their connection was stifling, choking Cloud like the smoke swirling around them in this hell of their own minds.
"So what's your angle this time?" grumbled Cloud, tightening his grip on his useless broadsword.
Sephiroth smiled, feline eyes lighting up with something half playful, half unnerving. He was close to Cloud in just a few lengthy strides.
"I try so hard to help you," murmured Sephiroth, stroking Cloud's face with the back of his fingers. Cloud bit the inside of his cheek to keep from reacting, resisting an altogether different kind of heat from rising inside of him. "If you let me, it'll be over quicker."
"Fine."
Cloud practically spat the word out, but Sephiroth took the victory in stride.
Sephiroth ran his free hand through his feathers, his left hand still on Cloud's face. The texture of the leather and tailored seams made Cloud's mind go blank for the moment Sephiroth needed. He presented Cloud with a few softer, smaller feathers, draping them in Cloud's hand. Cloud stared at them. "Just like that?"
"You can't fall before you reach your goal." Sephiroth took Cloud's hand in his own and curled his fingers closed, guiding Cloud's now cautiously clasped fist to his heart, where Sephiroth's touch lingered, holding their hands together. "You should be honored."
It was shockingly intimate- or would have been, if anything Sephiroth did could be shocking anymore. Cloud was so jaded he didn't flinch from Sephiroth's touch. His practical side argued that Phoenix Down was Phoenix Down, and that he should take it without complaint.
"I'm leaving."
"Without so much as a thank you?" Sephiroth leaned close, lips against Cloud's neck. "Then I'll take my own thanks from you." The kiss made Cloud's breath shake as Sephiroth hummed with amusement. "I'll teach you manners someday."
Cloud opened his mouth to reply, but the world went dark.
The darkness was soft and warm, cushioning his body like he was wrapped in a thick comforter- pliant like feathers in the abyss of his dream. He was sinking slowly into nothingness, feathers brushing his exposed skin as they swallowed him like quicksand. The down was meant to wake him up, not take him to sleep-
"Cloud!"
Tifa, that was Tifa.
He jolted, eyes flying open to the scene he'd left seemingly long ago. Tifa and Barret were with him in an abandoned lot, the corpses of their enemies littering the ground. Cloud's sword was coated in fresh blood he didn't remember shedding.
"Damn," commented Barret. "You fought like a demon, even after the last of them were out." He laid a hand on Cloud's shoulder. "You alright?"
Cloud nodded, pressing a hand to his temples. "Yeah. Sorry."
When he lowered his hand, a few black, delicate feathers were still in his palm.