Doubts. So many doubts. Regrets permeating his anxious mind. Cloud found it hard to think straight with everything rushing through his mind. His friends’ disappointed horror. Sephiroth’s irresistible allure. The fear that he’d made the worst mistake of his life getting this close to Sephiroth. 

He tried to hide away, to think, but it just seemed to make things worse. He was almost panicking by the time Sephiroth found him. He wasn’t surprised that the man would find him so easily. He always did. 

Being touched, held, always calmed him. He often felt like he had an ache deep down to his bones, and it always eased up the moment Sephiroth touched him. Now was no different, and he immediately leaned into the silver-haired man’s embrace. It would have been embarrassing if he hadn’t been so out of it. 

“Seph--” was all he managed to get out before he was kissed. A soft sound left his lips in response. It immediately calmed some of his raging anxiety. Like a balm for his mind. 

[ continued from here ]

"What? No." Honestly, he was taken a little aback. He was talking to Kadaj, wasn't he? Why would he assume he wanted to find someone else?

A little hurtful, but maybe that's just something Kadaj is used to.

“Is it fear that stops you?”

An intriguing threat, what the Turk had extended. But was it all for show? This red-head was sometimes all bark and no bite. Maybe a taste of his own medicine is due.

x

Smug bastard.

Cloud's eyes narrowed, his gaze full of rage to hide the unsettled fear that would always pool into the pit of his stomach when he found himself face to face with his living nightmare.

"You're insane." Yet, Cloud couldn't deny that Sephiroth had a point. He definitely felt something, some sort of connection to the one-winged monster in front of him. He didn't want to acknowledge any of that though. "I don't feel shit." A lie, one Sephiroth would probably be able to see through.

Cloud held his sword by his side, his hand on the hilt as he let the sharp end rest against the ground. He felt calm. No animosity towards the remnant on the ground before him. He mostly just felt pity. 

He shrugged. “You may have a point, but it doesn’t justify any of the horrible things he did. Maybe we’re not good or evil, but we’re capable of good and evil acts. Any good his actions caused... was just a side effect. Not the intention.” Sure, Sephiroth had hated Shinra, but his hatred for humanity as a whole had been far greater. Had he just wanted to destroy Shinra, they could probably have found common ground. 

Cloud's not much for birthday celebrations, and once the congratulations have been given, he retreats to somewhere a little more private so he can be alone with his thoughts. Of course, a certain someone makes it so he's never truly alone. For better or for worse.

He flinches when the words enter his mind. He'll never get used to that, no matter how many times it happens. Get out of my head, is the response Sephiroth gets back as Cloud glares at nothing. He hates it when Sephiroth speaks in his mind. It's even worse than when he just appears in front of him. At least that doesn't make him feel crazy.

The question from the younger male broke the silence that had been permeating the air between them for long enough for Sephiroth to find it disrupting. From where he stood, stoic and motionless at the very edge of the sharp cliffside looking down on the faraway barren landscape, his head turned ever so slightly towards his shoulder. The wind was nearly absent, only disturbing the tips of his long hair. It was as though the Planet itself was holding its breath around them.

How this had come to be, he still didn’t know. All he could confirm was that he was here, in the flesh. Not as a visage using the power of the alien Jenova, nor as the possessing spirit taking control the body of a clone or remnant. This was his real self. His own body which had perished and been consumed by the Lifestream had been returned to him, by some unphatomable will. He was certain of this, for he sensed his own mortality. The beat of his heart in his chest; the rush of his own blood; the limited amount of energy, which was so unusually low for what his god-like mind had gotten accustomed to. Right now he wouldn’t even be able to soar the skies if he tried.

Like a fallen soldier barely brought back to life, only the wounds were in his aether rather than scars or gaping gashes.

What was also rather surprising was that he was not alone. Kadaj stood at a short distance, as though he’d always been there. Sephiroth barely remembered the boy, from their shared days in the laboratories. Hojo had never really encouraged them to socialize, and Sephiroth’s personal interest in the other specimen had been superficial at best. By the time the younger had been old enough to have some meaningful conversation with, Sephiroth’s life the way he knew it had come to an end.

But he thought he could remember, very faintly, of tracking and reaching out to that soul in the Lifestream. Driven by something he couldn’t quite explain, like many other things right now. Had he been the one to bring the young man to the surface with him, or someone else?

Who could tell? Perhaps only time.

“What could you possibly wish to feel?” He asked with dry curiosity, turning further to steal a glance from that one bright teal eye so similar to his own peeking through the long bangs on Kadaj’s face.