#hisalis

For a moment this almost wasn't like how Zack usually was. He was a big puppy dog, always smiling and loud too. Always shouting about doing their best and always continuing on right? Maybe that's why she almost felt so compelled to touch his soft black hair in the first place. To show him the affection that she was always curious about showing. To let him know that she could help him when he needed it, a moment to relax and just worry about nothing for a change. He seemed to always do that for her these days. So it made sense she'd want to return the favor right?

For the last few months Cloud had been lost in a haze; blurred, dizzying and muffled were the sights and sounds of their escape from Shinra Manor. He couldn't move nor did he realise that he had even been moved. It was like he was lost in a dream as the world sickeningky twisted and turned around him. There seemed to be one constant muffle though, he couldn't make out any words but the fact he could recognise that sound amidst the deafening droning and sea of confusion, the blond held onto it like a lifeline and refused to let go.

One day Cloud opened his eyes and the world around him had structure, even if it wasn't fully in focus. He could feel the wind in his hair, hear the humming of a motorcycle. He was moving. For the first time he knew that he was moving. A voice spoke over the motor, while sounds were still distant Cloud knew that sound. His lifeline. Had it finally pulled him out of the fog?

While his head felt heavy, Cloud slowly managed to lift his head and slowly turn in the direction of the sound.

Cloud let out a pleased little noise when Zack turned to embrace him. He rested his head against Zack’s chest and hugged him tight. Much better.

“Mm... I woke up and you were gone... it got cold,” he murmured, a small pout forming on his lips. 

Honestly, it was more the fact that he didn’t like waking up to find Zack out of bed - it always made him a little anxious, but he was working on being less... well, clingy. He had to trust that Zack wasn’t going to just disappear back into the Lifestream one day (especially after Aerith had reassured him), or that he would wake up to find that this had all just been a dream.

The turning point, when it came, was lost—as all such moments are—within the dust and turmoil of a thousand individual encounters where infantrymen faced infantrymen across the distance of their personal weapons.

Sephiroth can count on one hand the number of times Shinra has engaged Wutai in all-out warfare. When they would have not had a snowball’s chance in hell of winning, noncommittal tactics gave Wutai the best odds. Sabotage, guerilla tactics, misinformation campaigns-- these were the tools that the ocean-nation relied most heavily upon, and for good reason.

This loss was nothing short of devastating for Wutai.

The men make camp on the edge of the battlefield. Lowland mist formed a layer of cover over the distant shadows of corpses and the smell of gunpowder, iron, and copper permeated the air. Sephiroth has not yet stopped to rest. Numbers were still coming in. How many dead. How many wounded. How many dying. No names. Not yet. That would came later, when they weren’t all bone-tired.

Sephiroth has blood on his face from a lateral cut which stretches across his left cheek. The wound has all but healed, the blood remains. His hair is in disarray, tangled in some places, spotted with dirt and blades of grass or leaves. He dismisses the sergeant from his tent in favor of checking in personally with the rest of the army.

Outside, several rows down demarcated by lines in the dirt and tents in various stages of construction, he finds Angeal’s protege still pitching his tent. Sephiroth stoops down to help the young SOLDIER stabilize one of the rods so that the canvas slip can be pulled over it.

It was still difficult getting used to the fact that Zack was there again. It was like seeing a ghost sometimes. Once, it was like she’d see him in the crowds, cropped black hair giving her the briefest reason to pause - and now there he was, just in front of her, like he’d never been gone at all.  

They both knew he had been, of course, but that didn’t change the fact that one day he was gone - dead, really -  and then, he wasn’t anymore. 

Coming up to him, her head tilted up to catch the sight of the sun against the side of his face, Aerith hums and produces a small flower in her hand, plucked fresh from the garden as she’d crossed her garden to get to him. Reaching out, she tucks it behind his ear.

@hisalis

Know ones enemy as one knows oneself.

He was tired of knowing the enemy. Chased to the brink of the walls and left in the shade of the tall cliff-faces of Midgar’s outer wasteland, Cloud had decided to slip back into Midgar alone. The danger was immeasurable and there had been protest after protest clattering at his ears to at least take a tail in case of danger, but more conspicuous than a state terrorist was two. Shinra had its unblinking eyes everywhere, but in the aftermath of the grand chase, the destruction of a weapon on public roads, the glimpses of dark shadows above the central tower and the death of the president… there were stories to weave. There were announcements to film, cover-ups to handle, cleaning, debris moving, a thousand bodies awoken to the dawning of a new world under Rufus’s rule… and in the sunlit chaos, he moved. There were supplies to grab before dashing to the safety of the dead outlands once more.

Cloud didn’t know what it was that drew him back to the church. With a cloth upon his head to hide the radiant gold of his hair from any cameras above, the man kept to its flanks and walked without a sound past the stretches of stained glass with a thoughtful look. Perhaps he could bring Aerith a flower so she at least had a piece of home with her-- no... that was stupid. No doubt the woman wouldn’t want him ambling up to the patch within the church to kill something so special by stealing it… plus there were muted cries within. Refugees no doubt from Seven, trying to eke out some kind of plan in the absence of their homes and work spaces. He pitied them greatly, for he knew what it was like to be without a home. To start anew amongst the rubble, tired and weary, with barely any gil to their name; yeah, he knew that feeling rather well.

The ex-SOLDIER came to a slow stop about the church's front to give a slight stretch, regarding the door for only a moment with a dull expression. Wall street awaited, and no doubt the lack of Shinra activity upon the ground floor meant that the usual easy-going daytimes of the notorious market were brimming with more life than usual. Perfect for blending in… not so great for haggling.

Some missions were more draining than others.

Shinra rebels had to be hunted down and stopped. Those that opposed Shinra had no right to live in a world ruled by it, or so the saying went. He’d been told all his life that they deserved it, that he was the reckoning of their sins, that they had to die for the greater good. And he believed it, of course he believed it. Even when he’d cause collateral damage to the innocents they managed to get involved in their agenda, it was necessary.

He could not let this bother him. Those questions, uttered by one who so feared for their life (now snuffed out). They’d been trying to sow doubt in his head, that had to be it, for what were they good at if not manipulating people to stand against Shinra? And yet... those questions were still embedded into his mind. He could not stop thinking about it.

Zack... the one person in the building he could genuinely trust. For the first time in his life, he reached out with tired arms and offered the man a tight embrace. They were representative of comfort, affection, and while he’d been raised to disregard both of those things, well... it was only them in the room. No one to rebuke him for this. He knew Zack would understand; he always did.

“Very long,” Sephiroth said quietly. The outside world no longer mattered, it was only them: him, and Zack nestled in his arms. Part of him wished to stay like this forever, but… he could not afford to express such vulnerability. This was already pushing it.

After a hug that was longer than most may find comfortable, Sephiroth let him go, looking off to the side.