Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Cloud, lend me your strength. Let us defy destiny together.”

Unarmed, Sephiroth extended his hand, willing Cloud to join him.

For a second, Cloud’s hands shook, and it seemed like he might take him up on his offer, but then he scowled, fingers clenching into fists, and he grabbed hold of his sword instead.

“Never!” Cloud replied firmly, raising his weapon.

Sephiroth clicked his tongue and looked away, unable to hide his irritation. Why did Cloud always have to be so infuriatingly stubborn?

Tilting his head, Sephiroth studied Cloud contemplatively for a time, trying to decide on the best course of action.

“What would it take for you to join me, Cloud?”

He didn’t actually expect Cloud to provide him with a solution, but perhaps his refusal could prove to be illuminating and steer Sephiroth in the right direction.

Predictably, the question made Cloud even angrier.

“I'll never join you!” he growled, gripping his sword, getting ready to attack.

“No matter what?”

Cloud glared at him with loathing and unbridled fury. The rage looked good on him; Sephiroth wished he would give into it more often. Unchecked, Cloud would be a force to behold. He could be a killer, unmatched by anyone other than Sephiroth himself.

Sephiroth believed them to be alike in all the ways that mattered; they were two sides of the same coin, forged in the same fire of pain and abuse since childhood. If anyone in this world could understand Sephiroth, it would be Cloud.

It was therefore deeply disappointing that Cloud refused to see this. That he was denying his own righteous anger, bubbling beneath the surface, refusing to see himself, and by extension Sephiroth, for who he truly was. For reasons Sephiroth couldn’t understand, Cloud was rejecting his true personality, and turning himself into something he was not.

But when he gave in to that fire, he looked nothing short of breathtaking.

Sephiroth was so mesmerized by the rage blazing in Cloud’s eyes that he almost missed his response.

“No matter what,” Cloud said with absolute conviction. But then, a few seconds later, he scoffed, lips stretching into a wry smile. “Not unless you can change our entire past,” he added, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Cloud clearly didn’t believe it could be done. He was simply saying it to mock him, but Sephiroth took that as a challenge. Cloud should really know better than to underestimate him. There was nothing Sephiroth couldn’t do, if he set his mind to it.

It wasn’t as if he truly needed Cloud’s help; he could easily turn this planet into cinder on his own. It was the principle of the thing. He wanted Cloud, and what Sephiroth wanted, he would have.

Being refused was simply not an option.

Sephiroth gritted his teeth, suppressing his fury. “Fine,” he said.

“Wait, what?” Cloud asked in disbelief, eyes going comically wide. “What the fuck do you mea—”

But he never got to finish his question. With a powerful Aeroga, Sephiroth sent him flying.

Cloud flailed, hurtling through the air, trying and failing to find something to latch onto. He held his sword in a desperate grip, trying to regain his balance even as he shot through the air, thinking he was being attacked.

Sephiroth, however, had no intention of fighting. He had a new goal in mind, and Cloud was in the way. So he shoved him back through the portal, sending him back to his friends, banishing him from the Edge of Creation.

Alone again, Sephiroth let out a sigh of frustration. That hadn’t gone the way he’d hoped, but at least he knew what he needed to do now.

With a sharp slash of his sword, he opened another portal and stepped through it.

The portal brought Sephiroth to the very gates of Nibelheim. The dusty, old, iron sign hung above his head, declaring the name of the town for any unwitting traveler who might stumble upon it.

Sephiroth stood on the threshold and glared, taking in the scenery.

The town looked just as he remembered it. The same old houses, the same rickety water tower, the same run-down inn…

A short distance away, he could see a group of children playing, running between the houses, their shrill laughter echoing in the streets. Apart from them, the town appeared almost deserted, save for a few people milling around, going about their business.

Looking at it all, Sephiroth was hit with such an overwhelming wave of hatred that it nearly brought him to his knees. His right hand stiffened at his side, magic crackling between his fingers. A small fireball began to form in his palm without any conscious thought from him. He wanted to watch this town burn; he longed to turn it into ash once more.

He remembered all those sleazy people, with their fake smiles and deceitful sweetness. They’d all wanted something from him: his protection, his attention, or at the very least, a picture they could sell to the papers to make themselves rich. Disgusting parasites, every single one of them.

They’d clung to him every step of the way, trying to gain his favor, offering nothing but faux friendship and platitudes. And in his own moment of need, when he’d needed a few days to think, to collect himself and figure out what he needed to do, they’d all turned on him. They’d accused him of abusing their hospitality, of overstaying his welcome and not helping them as he’d been sent there to do. As had been was his duty to.

Even in his darkest hour, they’d kept asking for more, demanding more and more, more than he was able or willing to give, and not one of them had ever thought to ask if he needed anything in return. No, that had never even crossed their puny little minds. As the great hero, Sephiroth’s sole purpose had been to serve. He’d had no right for needs of his own.

Even now, thinking back on it made his blood boil. None of these people had ever seen him as a real person. To them, he was but a thing, an obedient lapdog trained to do their bidding. And the moment such creatures started thinking for themselves, no longer playing their part of useful, subservient slaves, their owners would put them down, discarding them like broken toys.

But not Sephiroth. He would never let that happen to him. Instead, he’d chosen to go for the throat, killing his owners first, starting with these pathetic people in this wretched little mountain town.

If Cloud hadn’t stopped him back then, he would have left a trail of blood all the way to Midgar, where he would have put Hojo’s head on a spike. After all, the Shinra Tower was where his true owners had been hiding, and Sephiroth had had every intention of making every single one of them pay.

Even now, he still longed to do that.

The fireball in his hand solidified and grew. He remembered how good it had felt to burn it all down, to channel his rage somewhere, instead of letting it consume him from within.

This time, he could make his dream a reality. He could kill them all, and Hojo would never see him coming. After all, Sephiroth was currently all the way in Wutai, committing massacres on Shinra’s behalf. They would never know what hit them.

Sephiroth could almost taste the delicious vengeance in the air. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to picture it. His fingers twitched, and the fireball pulsed.

“Get him!” a child yelled, and a group of about five boys sprinted in the same direction.

A few houses down the street, a child with spikey blond hair set off in a run, scrambling to get away. All the other boys were significantly larger than him, and probably older, too.

Cloud.

Even as a child, Sephiroth would recognize him anywhere.

His hand froze, the fire dimming.

That’s right, he’d come here to find Cloud. He hadn’t come to exact his vengeance, no matter how appealing the thought may be. If he burned down Nibelheim now, Cloud would die along with the others, and that wasn’t what Sephiroth had set out to do.

He did not want Cloud to perish. That was the whole point.

Sephiroth couldn’t quite define the nature of these feelings he had for Cloud. All he knew was that there was this pull inside his chest, like a magnetic force, drawing him to Cloud; a longing, a need to have Cloud at his side. Was it Reunion or a feeling born of Sephiroth’s desire alone? It did not matter when every cell in Sephiroth’s body told him to heed its call.

And so, reluctantly, Sephiroth clenched his hand into a fist, reigning in his anger, along with his magic. The destruction would have to wait, but its time would come. And it would be all the sweeter for it.

For now, he had to set his plan in motion, and what he’d just seen could prove to be useful. Very useful, indeed.

At a leisurely pace, Sephiroth followed after the children.

If he hurried, perhaps he could stop them from hurting Cloud, but that was not his goal. Being bullied was a great reason for Cloud to hate these kids; this entire town, even, as none of the adults had bothered to intervene.

Being hated and abused, being treated like an outsider, should help Cloud understand where Sephiroth was coming from.

Of course, Cloud must have already experienced this before, in his original childhood, Sephiroth mused as he traipsed through the dirty streets. Yet in spite of it, Cloud had never desired revenge. He’d never wanted the townspeople to die or pay for their sins.

Sephiroth couldn’t understand that. They’d both been abused by people lesser than them when they were children, so how could Cloud’s reaction be so much different from his own? The only explanation Sephiroth could come up with was that Cloud had to be suppressing his anger, denying his thirst for revenge.

In the past, in their original timeline, Cloud had gone against his rage, against his very nature, but here, things would be different. Sephiroth would make sure of it. He would guide Cloud in the right direction by offering him what he’d always wanted—friendship, companionship, and understanding.

As Sephiroth moved through the town, everyone took notice of the man so clearly out of place; some cast surreptitious glances, while others openly stared. In a small, remote town like this, visitors weren’t exactly common. After all, there was nothing there, apart from an abandoned reactor.

And Sephiroth, with his long silver hair and unique appearance, wearing a full set of armor, would have made heads turn just about anywhere, even in Midgar. He was not an easy man to miss. Most of these people were probably wondering why someone like him was in a rural town like theirs. But Sephiroth was used to being gawked at, so he paid them no mind. None of them mattered, after all.

When he passed through the town square, he saw a blonde woman standing in front of a house he remembered well. The woman’s face had faded from his memory, and he wouldn’t have been able to recall it if he’d tried, but her identity was easy to deduce. Even if she hadn’t been standing in front of the house Sephiroth recognized as Cloud’s childhood home, the resemblance between her and her son was uncanny, leaving no doubt about her identity.

Like everyone else, Claudia Strife was staring at him, but her expression seemed more neutral than the others. While the rest of the townspeople appeared guarded and unfriendly, all but telling him to get the hell out of their precious little town, she looked merely curious.

Their eyes met, and she blushed, embarrassed to have been caught staring. She inclined her head in greeting—Sephiroth responded in kind—before picking up the baskets full of vegetables she’d left on the ground and retreating into the house.

Memory was such a funny, unpredictable thing. Sephiroth had forgotten her face, but he could still clearly visualize her lying in a pool of blood, taking her last breath.

He remembered running her through with his sword, the yield of her flesh beneath his blade, her body convulsing at his feet. He remembered how she’d begged for him to spare her son, screaming at Cloud to get away.

Back then, she’d held no special significance to him. From her words, he’d understood that she was the mother of one of his troopers, but at the time, Cloud hadn’t mattered to him either. Sephiroth hadn’t chosen to kill her because she was his mother. She was simply one of the townspeople and therefore needed to die.

Now that she was alive, Claudia Strife was probably Sephiroth’s greatest obstacle in the pursuit of Cloud’s mind. If she appealed to his conscience and encouraged him to do good, she might sway Cloud away from Sephiroth yet again, and he couldn’t allow that to happen.

Perhaps he should get rid of her first, before doing anything else, Sephiroth wondered, and the idea appealed to him greatly. But in the end, he decided against it. Losing his mother at such a young age would leave Cloud with no means to fend for himself. This path could lead to Cloud’s ruin—a fate Sephiroth wished to avoid—so he reluctantly abandoned the idea.

Eventually, Sephiroth reached the edge of the town and headed into the forest.

The children were long gone, and he could no longer see them, but he was certain he was heading in the right direction. After all, what better place to attack a helpless little boy than in a secluded forest, far away from prying eyes and meddling parents? Not that anyone would have lifted a finger to help Cloud, had they assaulted him in the middle of town.

Sephiroth had only been walking among the trees for a few short minutes when he heard a commotion in front of him. Loud, stomping footsteps heading his way. Five teenage boys were running, snickering and jostling each other. When they came upon Sephiroth, they faltered, staring at him wide-eyed, almost scared, and quickly ran off back toward the town.

It didn’t take long for Sephiroth to come upon Cloud. He was sitting in the tall grass by the side of the road. His face was dirty, hair disheveled, blood running down his chin, still oozing profusely from his split lip. It appeared that he had a broken nose as well.

He looked absolutely pathetic. Small and pitiful. Nothing like the mighty warrior he would grow up to be.

Inexplicable rage curdled inside Sephiroth. He didn’t want to be here, wasting his time with this child. He wanted to be with his Cloud, his fated companion, the only person who could understand him, the only one who could match him in strength. Not this feeble brat who couldn’t even fend off a handful of children.

Sephiroth schooled his expression, swallowing his anger and hiding his glare as he drew closer.

Cloud was wearing a pair of frayed denim shorts and a white shirt, although it was mostly green and black now, after he’d been dragged through the grass and mud and left there.

He tensed when he heard Sephiroth approach, slinking down into the grass, curling up into a ball, refusing to look up. He stayed perfectly still, as if hoping to remain unnoticed, that Sephiroth would simply go about his way if he waited long enough.

Unfortunately for him, Sephiroth had nowhere else to go. He was precisely where he wanted to be.

When black boots entered his line of vision and stopped right in front of him, Cloud froze. He was barely breathing.

Wordlessly, Sephiroth offered him a handkerchief.

That finally made the boy look up. His gaze was wary, full of suspicion, unbefitting of someone so young. Cloud was clearly unused to kindness and had long since learned to question it.

“Take it,” Sephiroth said, nudging the handkerchief closer.

“Who are you?” Cloud asked. He still refused to take what was being offered, so Sephiroth threw the piece of cloth onto his lap.

“I’m just someone trying to help. You should learn to be grateful.”

Cloud’s eyes narrowed, but he finally took the handkerchief and used it to wipe the blood off his face. He dabbed at his broken lip gingerly, wincing as pain shot through him.

“Ma told me not to talk to strangers,” he said, his voice coming out muffled as he pressed the handkerchief against his nose.

“By the looks of you, I’d say your mother should have warned you about your little friends instead.”

Cloud jumped to his feet instantly, fire blazing in his eyes. “What’d you say about my Ma!?”

“I meant no disrespect,” Sephiroth said, raising his hands in a placating gesture.

He fought the smirk threating to give him away. There was nothing more entertaining than needling Cloud. It had always been easy to get a rise out of him, but even more so now that he was merely a child. And that fire! Oh, how he loved it. That righteous anger and indignation! Sephiroth was elated to see it, to know that it was still there, even in such a tiny vessel.

At the sight of it, Sephiroth was more certain than ever—there was a wealth of rage hidden inside Cloud that he was suppressing. They were far more alike than Cloud wanted to believe. It shouldn’t take long to force him to admit that he was just like Sephiroth.

Cloud wiped the blood coming out of his nose, looking small and dirty, but unbroken. He never stopped glaring at Sephiroth, even after his apology, and he never expressed any gratitude or appreciation for Sephiroth’s random act of kindness.

Sephiroth scoffed, annoyed but unsurprised. Cloud had always insisted on making his life difficult. But no matter. Sephiroth had never expected this to work overnight. It would take some time and effort to win Cloud over, and he was prepared to do whatever it took.

“You keep that,” he said, nodding at the handkerchief, and without another word, turned around and left.

As he was walking away, he could feel Cloud’s eyes on him, tracking his every move, glued to him until he got out of sight.

Afterwards, Sephiroth followed the path through the forest and headed to the only other place in town he knew—the old Shinra Mansion.

Being there filled him with unease. The memories of those days were mostly lost to him now—a distant jumble of reading and frustration and white-hot blinding rage. This time, he knew what was hiding in the basement, and it was tempting to go back and re-read all those books. To try and go over all that information again, and see if he’d missed anything the first time.

But again, that was not his aim here.

Sephiroth had come to Nibelheim with one single purpose in mind—to find Cloud and change his past so he could change their future.

If he looked at those books again, Sephiroth couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t get sidetracked, that he wouldn’t lose himself to his rage, as he had back then. It would be so easy to become obsessed with the thoughts of Mother once more.

No, the temptation of it would be too great to resist, so Sephiroth decided to forego the books altogether and focus on his plans instead.

Rather than go into the library, Sephiroth climbed up, following the curved staircase as far away from the lure of the basement as he could get.

There were several rooms on the second floor, all with simple furnishings—just a bed and a wardrobe and a peeling wallpaper—so Sephiroth picked one at random and settled in.

He would set up his hideaway here, in this dirty old mansion, and wait for Cloud to fall into his grasp.

Chapter Text

Sephiroth ventured out into the forest the following morning. It felt strange, walking through those woods. They seemed familiar, as if he’d passed through them a thousand times before, yet he had no such memories. It was a peculiar feeling, like a word sitting on the tip of his tongue that he couldn’t quite remember.

It was too early in the morning, barely past dawn, and the forest was empty, devoid of all people. Birds and other beasts could be heard in the distance, but none close enough to pose a threat.

Sephiroth took a deep breath, and even this scent—a mixture of fresh grass, rotten leaves and wet soil—struck a chord deep inside him. For some reason, it reminded him of his childhood, which… should not have been possible.

As far as Sephiroth knew, he had no ties to this place, not beyond the fire and flames that had bound his and Cloud’s destinies together forever. But this wasn’t about that. 

He remembered thinking the same on the first day of their infamous Nibelheim mission. Even back then, the landscape had felt eerily familiar—a feeling at odds with its foreignness. 

Perhaps he’d spent a portion of his childhood there; perhaps Hojo had even raised him inside the mansion… but why couldn’t he remember?

Sephiroth would probably never find out.

Knowing that there were parts of his past that had been stolen from him felt deeply violating. It infuriated Sephiroth that he had ever allowed himself to be put in such a position. He would never give anyone that kind of power over him again.

As for the past... There was no doubt in Sephiroth’s mind that Hojo’s notes held the answers to all of his questions, but he couldn’t decide whether he truly wanted to know them. The last time he’d searched for answers inside that mansion, his whole world had come crashing down, shaking the very foundations of his existence. It had left him weary, and now Sephiroth wasn’t too eager to go poking around for more. 

Besides, the past wasn’t a pressing concern for Sephiroth. Throughout his life, he’d obsessively searched for answers about his origins, but now that he knew about Mother, the rest of it no longer mattered. He didn’t care what Hojo had done or tried to do to him. The only reason he was even thinking about this now was because of Cloud.

After all, it was nice to imagine that, perhaps, he and Cloud had come from the same place. That they’d both played in these woods as children. That they’d both gone through terrible trauma and tragedy within the bounds of this same wretched old town.

Perhaps they’d even met as children, somewhere along those narrow streets. If they had, it was a shame Sephiroth couldn’t remember it, but it pleased him to think they might have even more in common than he had originally thought. 

It confirmed his suspicion that their destinies were inextricably intertwined. Sephiroth simply needed to give Cloud a little push, to steer him away from this cycle of violence they were stuck in, and lure him over to his side.

And that was what Sephiroth needed to focus on—on Cloud, his sole reason for being there. Everything else was secondary, and none of it mattered.

Although… Sephiroth couldn’t stop thinking about Mother. About the fact that she was up there, all alone, chained up inside the reactor. It was a cruel and lonely fate, and Sephiroth longed to free her. It would be so easy to go to her now and change the course of history. Cloud was still only a child, and would be powerless to stop him.

It was incredibly tempting, and part of Sephiroth desperately wanted to do just that; to reunite with Mother years ahead of plan and claim an easy victory. In doing so, Sephiroth would obtain everything he’d ever wanted without even having to fight for it.

Everything, that is, except for Cloud.

And that was what stayed his hand. Because it wasn’t enough to simply win; that part was easy. He could have done that even in his original timeline, but he wanted more. So much more. Most of all, he wanted a path to victory that would help him win Cloud over in the process.

And going to Mother now would render that impossible.

Besides, Sephiroth hadn’t come here to change his own future. Paradoxically, getting killed by Cloud and falling into the Lifestream had been one of the best things that had ever happened to him. He’d once called it the crowning moment of their time together, and that was what it had truly been.

Being inside the Lifestream had opened Sephiroth’s eyes to limitless knowledge and imbued him with powers no human could conceive of. It was a good thing. It had helped him grow and evolve beyond this mortal soil, so he wouldn’t want to change that, ever.

What he wanted was for Cloud to stop being stubborn and learn to obey him.

And Mother, despite her infinite wisdom and celestial powers, couldn’t help him with that. It was something Sephiroth had to do on his own. He was the only one who could control Cloud, who could steer his beloved puppet in the right direction and make him see the world for what it was.

So, in the end, Sephiroth chose to abandon Mother for a while longer and stayed true to his original plan.

He would offer Cloud a hand in friendship, make him believe that Sephiroth was someone he could trust, and then he would open his eyes to the truth, make him see that these people were scum, unworthy of pity. They all needed to die, and there was no need for Cloud to protect them.

Unfortunately, Sephiroth knew nothing about children. He had no idea how to talk to a child, much less how to befriend one.

Another thing he had come to realize was that he knew shockingly little about Cloud’s past. It had surprised him to learn that Cloud was an outcast. As an adult, he’d always been surrounded by friends, and Sephiroth had never pictured him as a loner.

But this was good; it was something Sephiroth could use to his advantage. It was also yet another thing they had in common, and that pleased him.

Sephiroth knew what it was like to be hated, to stand out and be shunned because of it. What he couldn’t understand, however, was why this was happening to Cloud. He seemed like a regular child, no different from the others. And he’d never been weak—Sephiroth knew that better than anyone—so he wouldn’t make easy prey. It was most curious. And infuriating, because Sephiroth hated the thought that there was any part of Cloud he knew nothing about. How could these strangers know something he did not?

Sephiroth yearned to find out what flaws Cloud possessed that had made the other children hate him. To discover sides of him he’d never known before. Making Cloud open up to him and tell him all of his secrets became one Sephiroth’s new goals.

There was a lot in this world that Sephiroth didn’t understand, and he hoped he could get to the bottom of it quickly, so he could adjust his plans accordingly.

When he’d just arrived in this world, Sephiroth had seen a girl, a familiar face—Tifa, he thought her name was. She’d always been one of Cloud’s closest friends, and yet… Sephiroth had seen her playing with his bullies, doing nothing to help him when they attacked. 

This was certainly something he could use to his advantage.

Sephiroth had repeatedly tried to drive a wedge between Cloud and his friends, especially Tifa, and it had never worked. But knowing what he knew now, if he started early enough, if he planted seeds of doubt before the two of them even got close, Cloud would surely be more willing to listen when the time was right. 

“You’re still here,” a voice said from behind him, drawing his attention.

Sephiroth bit back a smirk.

This was turning out to be even easier than he’d hoped; Cloud had come to him on his own, without him even having to seek him out. Perhaps Cloud was feeling drawn to him without realizing it; perhaps destiny or Reunion were already pulling their strings and they could do nothing but follow.

Sephiroth turned around and there the boy stood—suspicious and defensive, but no longer covered in blood, wearing a clean set of clothes.

Cloud had never been a tall man, but he was downright tiny now, the top of his head barely reaching Sephiroth’s chest. His hair was tied back in a short ponytail, but his bangs were still as messy and spikey as ever.

“Why are you in the woods alone? It’s not safe out here,” Sephiroth said, feigning concern, using it as an opening to start up a conversation.

But it was the wrong thing to say, because Cloud immediately tensed, looking more belligerent than ever.

“I’m not scared! I always come out here on my own.”

It was easy to guess why he was there; it was probably the only place where he could escape his bullies. Wild beasts were nowhere near as dangerous as other humans. Even at such a young age, Cloud had learned that lesson well.

A small smile tugged on Sephiroth’s lips.

“Aren’t you afraid of being attacked out here? Even if you screamed for help, no one would hear you.”

“I’m not a coward!” Cloud bristled, puffing up his chest, and Sephiroth couldn’t help but chuckle.

Oh, Cloud. You have no idea what kind of monsters could be lurking in these woods.

“I never said you were, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. What’s your name, kid?” Sephiroth asked, making sure Cloud told him before he slipped up and used it.

“I’m not a kid!” Cloud insisted petulantly, sounding more like a child than ever. “My name is Cloud and I’m the head of my household. That makes me a man!”

He was a tiny little thing that couldn’t have been more than twelve; Sephiroth barely resisted laughing in his face.

“Nice to meet you, Cloud.”

He extended his hand, just as he had back at the Edge of Creation, and just like then, Cloud left him hanging. He stared at Sephiroth’s hand suspiciously and refused to take it.

“So, what’s your name?”

“Hmm…” Sephiroth hummed, loving this game of cat and mouse he was playing. “I’ll tell you once I get to know you a little better.”

“Hey, no fair! I told my name.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to tell you mine,” Sephiroth said. The anger on Cloud’s face made him smile; it was almost too easy to push his buttons. Sephiroth was having the time of his life.

“Yes, it does! That’s how these things always go!”

“How would you know?”

“What?” Cloud blinked up at him, stunned speechless.

“It’s just that you don’t seem to have that many friends.”

An angry flush rose to Cloud’s cheeks. “I have friends,” he muttered, but his burning face was giving him away. “What would you even know about it?” he snapped, hands curling into fists. He looked just about ready to storm off, which was Sephiroth’s cue to rein it in.

“You’re right. I apologize. I don’t know anything about you, and I don’t know much about having friends, either. It just seemed to me that you and I are a lot alike, but maybe I was wrong.”

And just like that, Cloud deflated. He didn’t seem angry anymore, just confused and somewhat awkward.

“Well, I mean… I guess. I don’t have that many friends, you were right about that. But I do know you’re supposed to tell people your name!”

Sephiroth hummed and nodded, pretending that he was seriously considering this new information.

“Alright, Cloud, I believe you,” he said sweetly. “So let’s make a deal: if I tell you my name, you have to become my friend.”

Cloud blinked rapidly, stunned again. He refused to meet Sephiroth’s eyes as he said, “Sure, whatever. I’ll be your friend. I mean, since you have no one else.”

The boy made it sound like he was doing Sephiroth a favor, but it was obvious he desperately wanted a friend.

So much so that he’d forgotten all about his mother’s warning not to talk to strangers. Or perhaps, now that he’d met Sephiroth for a second time, he no longer considered him one. Either way, Cloud really should have listened to his mother.

But it was too late now.

“I’m Sephiroth,” he said, extending his hand once more.

For a second, he was afraid that Cloud would have heard of him already, that he would recognize his name, but there was no recognition in Cloud’s eyes. This was still a time before Sephiroth had become a widely known hero, so no one outside of Shinra knew his name.

When Cloud finally took Sephiroth’s hand, his grip was surprisingly firm; Sephiroth felt a shiver run through him at the contact. His own hand tightened, refusing to let go.

As far as Sephiroth could remember, he’d never touched Cloud without the intention of causing him harm. They’d never come this close without trying to kill each other. It was a nice change of pace.

“Will you be in Nibelheim for a while?” Cloud asked, unnerved by the fact that Sephiroth was still holding his hand. 

“Yes, for the foreseeable future.”

When Cloud tried to pull his hand away again, Sephiroth finally let him, and he immediately wrapped his arms around himself protectively. Neither of them had ever been good at small talk, and this was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

“Are you staying at the inn? My house is right across the street.”

Sephiroth shook his head. “There’s an old mansion just outside of town. Do you know it?”

“That old place?” Cloud gasped. “But it’s haunted!”

Sephiroth chuckled. “Is it? Luckily, I’m not afraid of ghosts.”

“No, seriously, no one ever goes in there. It’s really creepy. There are strange noises coming from the mansion at night.”

It was possible, of course, that some of Hojo’s experiments had gotten loose, but even if they had, they would pose no threat to Sephiroth. Ghosts, monsters, humans—Sephiroth wasn’t afraid of anything. It was them that should fear him.

“I haven’t seen anything strange, but if you don’t believe me, you can come with me and check it out.” Cloud frowned, but Sephiroth could see that he was tempted; there was an unmistakable spark of curiosity in his eyes. “Have you ever been inside?”

“Of course not! That place is dangerous.”

Sephiroth hummed. “I thought you weren’t a coward.”

“I’m not!” Sephiroth lifted an eyebrow, and Cloud blushed. “Ugh, fine. Lead the way, then.”

So easy, so predictable.

Cloud had always been easy to manipulate, but this was child’s play. Literally. Only a few words were enough to get him to do exactly what Sephiroth wanted.

“Follow me,” he said, and headed back toward the mansion.

Cloud trudged after him without complaint, but he kept his distance, staying a few steps behind him at all times. Perhaps he was indeed a little scared of what awaited them inside the mansion, or perhaps he’d finally realized that it was rather unwise to follow someone he barely knew into a secluded house, where no one would ever look for him. But, of course, he was too pigheaded to turn back now.

Cloud had always had a penchant for danger, but luckily for him, Sephiroth had no intention of causing him harm; not physically, at least.

Looking at the mansion, Sephiroth could see why the children would consider it haunted. Even in the bright light of the day, it looked, as Cloud had so eloquently put it—creepy.

The façade was covered in vines, its windows too dirty to allow anyone to peek inside. The mortar was peeling off the walls, making the building look like it had been abandoned for years, which it probably had.

Sephiroth had no idea when Hojo had stopped using the laboratory inside, but it had clearly happened some time ago. The state of disrepair was impossible to miss.

When Sephiroth pushed the gate open, it made a loud, high-pitched screeching noise. It sounded terrifying, like something straight out of a nightmare, and it made Cloud yelp and jump aside. He tried to hide how frightened he was, but he retreated a little, practically hiding behind Sephiroth’s large frame. 

Who would have guessed that there was once a time when even Cloud Strife had things that frightened him?

It was remarkably novel, seeing such unguarded emotions on Cloud’s face. Sephiroth had always enjoyed forcing Cloud to feel; getting a rise out of him was a personal challenge, a game he liked to play. Right now, it was almost too easy, but it was proof that this was the real Cloud. He could feel so much. And so strongly. It was only a matter of forcing him to admit it.

“Don’t be scared,” Sephiroth purred, unable to help himself.

“I’m not!” Cloud gasped, slightly breathless, his voice a few octaves higher than usual.

“My mistake, then,” Sephiroth lied smoothly and proceeded to walk inside. Cloud rushed after him, desperate not to lose his human shield.

The inside of the mansion was just as run-down as the outside. There was a lot of furniture strewn across the foyer, along with other seemingly random items. The place looked like someone was in the middle of moving, and had gathered all of their belongings in one place for easier transportation, only to forget about them and abandon them forever.

The wallpaper was peeling, contributing to the overall haunted look, but most of the furniture was surprisingly well-preserved, covered with protective sheets and thick layers of dust.

Cloud peeked around Sephiroth, too curious to be held back by fear for long.

“You actually live here?” he asked in disbelief.

“I do.”

“But this place is… filthy!”

Sephiroth chuckled. “It’s been abandoned for a long time, and I just got here yesterday. I haven’t had time to clean yet.”

Cloud nodded, but he seemed tense, utterly distracted, like he was barely listening. His eyes darted around the spacious foyer, glancing at the stairs and trying to see what was on the upper floor.

“Would you like a tour?” Sephiroth asked, and Cloud hesitantly agreed. His curiosity outweighed his fear.

As they moved around the mansion, Cloud refused to leave Sephiroth’s side, waiting for ghosts or monsters to attack them at any moment. They weren’t touching, but Cloud stayed almost glued to his arm, and Sephiroth couldn’t help but smile.

This was how it should be—his puppet at his side, clinging to him, scared and desperate, shaking like a leaf.

They barely knew each other, but Cloud was already coming to him for protection. His large blue eyes gazed upon Sephiroth with awe and wonder. This was a very good sign. The boy was clearly starved for affection, for companionship, and Sephiroth could work with that. Young minds were easy to mold, and Cloud was already doing most of the work for him, without Sephiroth even needing to lift a finger.

Upstairs, he showed Cloud all the available rooms, including the one he was staying in. The boy took it all in with wide-eyed fascination and open curiosity. But as the tour went on, his excitement morphed into confusion, and finally, disappointment.

“Not what you imagined, I take it?”

Cloud frowned. “It’s just a normal, boring old house.” He sounded so crestfallen that Sephiroth couldn’t help but laugh.

“I told you.”

“Yeah… I guess,” Cloud mumbled dejectedly.

“Were you actually hoping to find monsters?” 

“No... Yes? I don’t know.” Cloud muttered, shrugging his shoulders.

“Chin up, Cloud. I’ve only been here for a day. Maybe I just haven’t found one yet.” He looked at Cloud, so young and naïve, hanging on to his every word, and decided to test the waters a little. “Besides, true monsters don’t usually look like monsters at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m talking about your friends, of course. About the way they treat you.”

Cloud grew very quiet, standing impossibly still, barely breathing. Instantly, he was on edge once more.

It was plain to see that he wasn’t ready to talk about this, and Sephiroth cursed himself for being impatient. He should have waited a few days before bringing it up. After all, Cloud barely knew him, and had no reason to trust him. It would probably take him some time to open up to Sephiroth.

Unfortunately, Sephiroth was very impatient. He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. He’d barely been there a day, and he was already dying to return to his own timeline. Spending time with a prepubescent child was not his idea of a good time, even if that child was Cloud.

But annoying as it was, it was necessary.

If everything went according to plan, his Cloud would end up changed by these events. He would have a new past—one in which he’d met Sephiroth as a child, and had grown to trust him. That was crucial. What Sephiroth accomplished here would affect Cloud’s decisions in the future.

But knowing that didn’t make Sephiroth any more enthused about wasting his time with a literal child. He hated kids. And while Cloud seemed slightly more tolerable than the rest of them, Sephiroth still longed to return to the adult he knew.

“I don’t want to talk about them,” Cloud said softly, and there was nothing more Sephiroth could do. Whether he wanted to or not, he would have to wait.

In the meantime, it encouraged him to see how deeply Cloud was hurt by their behavior. It shouldn’t take much at all to make Cloud hate them. With a little nudge, with the right words whispered into his ear, Cloud should understand why these people needed to die. Why the world would be better off without them.

“We won’t talk about anything that makes you uncomfortable, Cloud,” Sephiroth assured him. “I’m your friend, and friends have fun together.”

Cloud gave him a small, tentative smile. It was probably the first genuine smile Sephiroth had seen on his face since coming here.

His own lips curled into a smirk.

Chapter Text

Cloud continued to seek him out; occasionally at first, then with increasing frequency. Soon, he was coming to the mansion every single day.

Sephiroth pretended to be his friend, his confidante, indulging him with boundless patience—even when his temper flared and annoyance took over, he never let it show.

From time to time, the boy showed up covered in scruffs and bruises, trying to pretend nothing was amiss. It happened with alarming frequency, but whenever Sephiroth tried to bring it up, Cloud clammed up and refused to talk.

It infuriated Sephiroth. He couldn’t understand why Cloud was allowing it to happen; why he wasn’t furious or resentful, as Sephiroth would have been. Why he wasn’t trying to make them pay.

Whenever he could, he urged Cloud to open up, to tell him more about his life. Sephiroth was dying to know how Cloud had become the kids’ primary target, but he was having trouble coaxing answers out of him.

Changing tactics, he tried telling Cloud how evil those boys were, how they deserved to be punished, but even though Cloud never contradicted him, he never agreed with him, either. Most importantly, he never showed any signs of his own ire, and that irritated Sephiroth to no end.

One day, Sephiroth’s patience, such as it was, finally ran out. Seeing Cloud covered in bruises, yet again, he snapped.

“Do you enjoy being hit?” he demanded angrily. The boy was practically black and blue, scratches all over his arms, a sharp cut beneath his eye.

“What?” Cloud croaked. 

Sephiroth grabbed him by the chin and forced him to look up, to face him. Cloud squirmed and tried to pull away, but Sephiroth tightened his grip, forgetting for a moment how delicate the boy was. This wasn’t the enhanced man he knew, but a normal, feeble human.

With a pained whimper, Cloud stilled.

“Why are you letting them do this to you?”

It was a genuine question. No matter how much he thought about it, Sephiroth couldn’t understand it. Cloud may be young and unenhanced, but Sephiroth knew that he was strong; he’d always had exceptional inner strength. So why was he choosing to roll over and take this instead of fighting back? Why was he allowing these worthless humans to lay their filthy hands on him?

Where was that fiery rage Sephiroth knew so well?

“I’m not letting them hit me,” Cloud mumbled. “They’re all older and bigger than me.”

“Everyone is bigger than you, Cloud,” Sephiroth drawled, and oh, there was that fire. Cloud glared at him indignantly, furiously, and finally wrenched himself out of Sephiroth’s grasp.

Sephiroth liked that Cloud’s rage seemed to be reserved only for him; that he was the only one who could make Cloud succumb to his fury and get consumed by it. He found it flattering, and it made him feel special. But at the same time, he couldn’t help but wonder why Cloud was allowing this to happen.

“If you think you’re not strong enough to stand up to them, you should work on making yourself stronger.”

“How?” Cloud asked, hopeful and eager.

And that was how, a few days later, Sephiroth found himself making a wooden sword and offering to train Cloud.

His puppet had always been an excellent swordsman, but with Sephiroth’s help, this time around, he would be even better. He would know how to defend himself and no one would be able to stop him.

At first, Sephiroth showed him a few katas and made him practice on his own, but as time went by, eventually, he took a more hands-on approach. They started to spar.

It was an exercise in frustration; Sephiroth struggled to hold back his blows, trying to actually train Cloud instead of simply crushing him using his vastly superior strength. It wasn’t easy. He’d never been known for his patience, and it was only the hope of Cloud becoming better in the future that kept him going.

Sephiroth took great pleasure in the thought of being the one who taught Cloud everything he knew. When their blades crossed in the future, as they inevitably would, it would be all the more exciting for it.

Perhaps teaching Cloud wasn’t wise because it might make it easier for him to defeat Sephiroth in the future, but Sephiroth didn’t think so. After all, if everything went according to plan, Cloud would lower his blade and take up his rightful place at his side, and there would be no more fighting between them. 

Time passed quickly, and before Sephiroth knew it, a month had already gone by. So far, his plan was progressing smoothly.

After only a few short weeks, Cloud had already become very attached to him. Every day, he spent countless hours at Sephiroth’s side, enjoying his company, craving it.

At first, Cloud had been skittish and shy, nervous in the presence of someone so much older than him, but Sephiroth had done his best to reassure him, to appear unthreatening and supportive, to act the way a friend would. And Cloud, who’d been so alone and starved for affection, had welcomed him with open arms, naïve and guileless, soaking up every crumb of friendship Sephiroth threw his way.

They’d spent the first few days cleaning the foyer. It had quickly become apparent that Sephiroth didn’t know the first thing about cleaning, so Cloud had taken charge. He’d done the bulk of the work himself, but it hadn’t taken long for him to start ordering Sephiroth around, too.

Unexpectedly, this had done a lot to break the ice between them. It had put them on an equal footing, in a way, and made Cloud realize that, despite their age difference, he was allowed to tell Sephiroth what to do, and even snap at when he deserved it.

Sephiroth didn’t particularly enjoy this, of course, but since he wanted to pretend to be the boy’s friend, he had to treat him like an equal, and allow Cloud to do the same—preposterous as the idea may be. It felt strange, having someone speak to him so casually, so bluntly. No one had done that since Genesis.

Yet friendship was an integral part of Sephiroth’s plan; it was the only way to earn the boy’s trust, so Sephiroth allowed these small indignities to continue, reminding himself what was at stake, dreaming of the moment when his Cloud would be at his side.

Afterwards, when everything looked pristine and there were no more dust motes floating in the air, they explored the rest of the mansion together. There were a lot of rooms that even Sephiroth had never set foot in, and it was surprisingly enjoyable to watch Cloud run around and look his fill, indulging his curiosity.

He made sure to keep Cloud away from the basement, though. Not only was it dangerous—there was no telling what kinds of monsters could be lurking in there—he certainly didn’t want Cloud to come across his sleeping friend.

Vincent Valentine was a volatile, unpredictable variable, and Sephiroth didn’t want to leave anything to chance. The man was also the only one in this backwater town who could recognize Sephiroth and reveal his true identity, so keeping him away from Cloud was imperative.

As time went by, Cloud steadily grew to trust Sephiroth more and more. He still refused to talk about the bullying, but he seemed to trust Sephiroth with just about everything else.

Cloud was a quiet, introverted child who didn’t like to talk any more than strictly necessary—or at least he appeared that way at first glance.

Once he became comfortable around Sephiroth, it was a like a dam breaking. He clearly had a lot to say and no one to share it with. These days, he would tell Sephiroth everything—boring him with every passing thought, recounting every pointless interaction in excruciating detail.

Sometimes, Sephiroth missed the quiet—those days when they’d spend hours in companionable silence—but he told himself this was a good sign. It was a clear indication that the boy was finally starting to trust him.

At first, Cloud used to come to the mansion for an hour or two, but these days, he’d become a permanent fixture—he spent entire afternoons in Sephiroth’s company. Sometimes, he even brought homework and worked on it in silence, not even paying attention to Sephiroth, but still craving his company. Other times, he made comments about his lessons, sharing insights or grievances, going as far as roping Sephiroth into helping with his assignments.

It was really like babysitting a child, and it was starting to grate on Sephiroth’s nerves.

Still, he put up with it, staying focused on his goal, thinking of the day Cloud would be his. That alone would be worth all this trouble.

They settled into this routine, monotonous days stringing together in an endless stretch, the passage of time too slow for Sephiroth liking. Every day was just like the one before, with nothing memorable or remarkable about it.

Until one day, Cloud showed up with a dark bruise on his cheek.

He looked embarrassed, slouching his shoulders, twisting his face away, as if there was any way for it to go unnoticed.

There were multiple other injuries all over his arms and legs, and he favored his right side as he walked, implying a deeper hurt that was invisible to the naked eye.

The bruises were nothing new in and of themselves, but the overall state of him looked far worse than usual.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” Cloud mumbled.

“Nothing?” Sephiroth repeated pointedly, fury rising within him.

The bruise was dark blue, nearly black, clashing against the pale skin of Cloud’s cheek. It seemed incredibly painful. Something dark and sadistic coiled inside Sephiroth, nearly blinding him.

Infuriated by Cloud’s attitude, barely aware that he was even moving, Sephiroth strode over and grabbed Cloud’s chin, digging his fingers into the bruise viciously. Cloud hissed in pain and fought to get away.

Sephiroth had never wanted to hurt him like this, not since coming here. Violence was humming through his veins; he wanted to crush him, to show him what pain was, to introduce him to the true meaning of weakness.

Who was this pathetic creature who allowed others to walk all over him? Where was the man Sephiroth had admired? The one who, even as a useless trooper, had bravely taken a stand against him?

“Who did this to you?” Sephiroth demanded. He should kill them all for daring to touch what was his.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Taking a deep breath, counting backwards from ten, Sephiroth tried to regain the last shreds of his patience.

“You cannot let those brats walk all over you, Cloud. What is the point of teaching you how to defend yourself if you refuse to do it?”

“It’s not…” Cloud sighed. “It wasn’t them, okay?” He clammed up again, but now Sephiroth’s interest was piqued.

“Tell me what happened,” he demanded. When Cloud continued to hesitate, biting his lip and gazing at the floor, Sephiroth tried a different approach; he softened his voice and added, “I just want to help.”

Sephiroth wanted a great many things—he wanted to cut off the hands that had hurt his precious puppet; he wanted to make Cloud stand up for himself; he wanted Cloud to hate these people as much as he did; he wanted to go back to his own timeline and have his Cloud at his side.

Helping wasn’t strictly one of the items on his list, but in Sephiroth’s mind, it all amounted to the same thing. This was his way of helping Cloud.

He would do whatever it took to make Cloud see the truth.

And so, with a concerned and wounded expression, Sephiroth used his ultimate weapon.

“Am I not your friend, Cloud? Don’t you trust me?”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Cloud’s face twisted with guilt.

Got you.

Sephiroth bit back a smirk.

Finally defeated, Cloud reluctantly started to talk. “I used to be friends with this girl—Tifa. We haven’t hung out in a while, but… A few weeks ago, her mom died. She hasn’t been the same since. And I…” Cloud shrugged. “I was worried about her, so I kinda… went to check up on her from time to time.”

“What does that have to do with your bruise?”

“I’m getting to that,” Cloud said, and Sephiroth resisted the urge to snap at him to hurry it up. He didn’t need all the sordid details. But as a friend, he was supposed to be patient, to offer comfort, so he kept his mouth shut and pretended to care.

“There’s this legend in Nibelheim that when people die, their souls go beyond the peak of Mt. Nibel.”

Sephiroth held back a groan. What did that have to do with anything? Was he really going to have to sit through a history lesson now, on top of everything?

But instead of voicing his thoughts, Sephiroth nodded encouragingly, feigning interest.

“Tifa believed it, I guess, so she headed up the mountain, hoping to find her mother. Her friends—those guys that hate me—went with her. But halfway there, they got either bored or scared, and decided to turn back, so Tifa continued on her own. I was worried, so I followed her. Even if we weren’t friends anymore, I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.”

Sephiroth bit his tongue so hard the copper taste of blood filled his mouth. Stupid child, he wanted to say. That girl befriended the boys who bully you. She doesn’t care about you at all! Why would you risk your life for her when even her own friends refused to do so?

Sephiroth couldn’t understand this. It made no sense. It went against all sense and logic, especially since Cloud had nothing to gain from it. Sephiroth couldn’t see it as anything other than sheer stupidity.

He was supposed to steer Cloud in the right direction; to teach him and guide him, to remind him to hate all those who deserved it. But it was difficult for Sephiroth to do that, when he couldn’t understand Cloud’s actions at all.

The awareness of his own shortcomings was making Sephiroth even angrier. He wanted to lash out, to yell at Cloud and call him names, to criticize him for doing something so irrefutably stupid.

But Cloud was finally opening up to him; attacking him now would only make him put his walls back up, undoing countless weeks of meticulous effort. So, with superhuman patience, Sephiroth gritted his teeth and stayed silent, keeping his thoughts to himself.

“It was dark and windy last night, making it difficult to see. And the path was slippery because of the rain, so at one point, Tifa slipped and fell off the edge of a cliff. I ran as fast as I could and grabbed her hand. I tried to hold on, to pull her back up, I really did…” Cloud’s voice was shaking now, his entire frame trembling with it. “In the end, we both fell down together.”

Sephiroth gasped, rounding on him, grabbing him by the shoulders. He didn’t even have to fake the shock and dread he was feeling. Cloud had come so close to dying, right under his nose!

Looking him over again, intense and almost manic, Sephiroth carefully catalogued his injuries. There were bruises all over Cloud’s body, but nothing that signified that kind of a fall. He must have been extremely lucky, because this could have been much, much worse.

Sephiroth’s heart thundered in his chest; the urge to touch Cloud, to run his hands all over him and confirm that he was fine nearly overwhelming him.

If anything happened to this child, his Cloud would cease to exist, and that was a thought so chilling it didn’t bear thinking about. Sephiroth would never allow it!

He’d wasted so much time trying to mold Cloud’s mind, trying to steer him in the right direction, and to think he’d almost lost him because of that damn girl! 

Unable to hold back his rage, Sephiroth twisted away with a snarl and began to pace. He was so furious that he wanted to slap Cloud’s other cheek and give him a matching bruise. The little idiot desperately needed to have some sense knocked into him!

“Unless you landed on your face, your story still doesn’t explain what happened to it,” Sephiroth snapped.

“Well… A search party went out looking for Tifa. When they found us, everyone blamed me for taking her up the mountain.”

Sephiroth ground to a halt, tilting his head to look at the boy. “Didn’t she disabuse them of that notion?”

“Disa—what?” Cloud blinked at him, and Sephiroth gnarled his teeth, praying for patience.

“Didn’t she tell them what actually happened?”

Cloud shook his head. “She was unconscious. Still is.” He sounded devastated, like he, too, blamed himself for what had happened to her. “Her dad was so mad… He told me he’d kill me if she didn’t wake up, and then he just…” Cloud made a swinging motion with his hand, showing how the bastard must have hit him.

Sephiroth couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Without even trying to find out what had actually happened, the entire town had banded together and blamed Cloud. Instead of thanking him for saving his daughter’s life, that man had threatened and even assaulted him.

How dare they?

Righteous rage burned within Sephiroth. Cloud was his. Only he was allowed to hurt him, if he so wished. These people had no right!

Vaguely, he remembered Tifa crying and screaming at him, accusing him of killing her father, so many lifetimes ago. At least Sephiroth had the satisfaction of knowing that, in a few years’ time, he would have the pleasure of killing the bastard himself. Back then, he hadn't even realized how much that nameless stranger had deserved it.

And deserve it, he did. Just like everyone else in this wretched town.

To think that they would attack a helpless child without even trying to find out the truth! This confirmed to Sephiroth, yet again, that his actions had been warranted. But why wasn’t Cloud angry, even now? Why didn’t he hate them, after everything?

With the way they’d treated him, Sephiroth shouldn’t even have to encourage him to hate these people. Cloud had plenty of reasons of his own. He’d been mistreated, ostracized, hated and abused… but he still found excuses for them. Against all sense, he still chose to defend them.

“That man had no right to hit you,” Sephiroth told him in a tone that broke no argument, but Cloud was already shaking his head.

“He was worried and scared. I get it.”

“What happened to that girl wasn’t your fault, Cloud. Tell me you understand that.”

Cloud frowned, but said nothing, so Sephiroth moved closer and cupped his cheek. He caressed it softly, making sure not to hurt him this time.

The bruise was truly awful; it looked absolutely hideous. Such a thing had no business marring that lovely face.

A tingle of magic ran through Sephiroth’s fingertips, and before he’d even consciously decided to do it, green tendrils of a Curaga were moving up Cloud’s cheek, taking away the blemishes and pain. Within seconds, the bruise was gone, leaving only flawless skin in its wake.

Sephiroth couldn’t explain why he did it. He’d seen Cloud battered and bruised so many times before, yet he’d never offered to help; never had any desire to. Perhaps it was merely a matter of pride and possessiveness, he decided—a way to reclaim what was his. That was the only reason he could think of.

Running his thumb slowly over that smooth, pale cheek, Sephiroth watched with fascination as it reddened, turning warm in his hand.

Cloud’s eyes snapped up to his face, wide and shocked. It was obvious that he was unused to being treated with kindness; he didn’t know what to do with it. And Sephiroth, for all the time they’d known each other, had never touched him. Certainly never like this.

“The way those people treated you—the way they continue to treat you—is wrong, Cloud. Don’t let them convince you that this was somehow your fault. You did your best. You probably saved that girl’s life. They should be thanking you instead of punishing you. You have every right to be mad at them.”

Cloud stared up at him helplessly, eyes brimming with emotion. He looked so fragile, like he was a breath away from breaking down.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “You’re such a good friend, Sephiroth.” He leaned his face into Sephiroth’s touch and closed his eyes. “And you’re right. The way they treated me is wrong, I get that… but I still don’t blame them.”

Sephiroth bit back a groan. Stubborn idiot child.

“Next time, if you decide to play hero, take me with you. I’ll make sure no one gets hurt.”

Cloud grinned at him, eyes shiny and bright. “Okay.”

The girl woke up a few days later, but her memory of the events remained hazy. She couldn’t remember how she’d ended up on that mountain, nor the circumstances surrounding her fall. Of course, she couldn’t remember Cloud saving her life, either.

It was such a convenient excuse; an easy way to save herself and pin all the blame on Cloud.

And that was exactly what happened—the town treated her as a victim, while they dubbed Cloud a troublemaker, a terrible influence who’d almost cost the poor girl her life.

To her credit, she did try to defend him, at first, but her timid nature made her sound very unconvincing, and when she was challenged, doubted and interrogated, she backed off quickly. In the end, it did nothing to sway the public opinion. After all, her words meant little without memories to back them up, so everyone dismissed them.

Cloud refused to admit it, but he was deeply hurt by the way everything played out. Sephiroth seized on it, trying to make him hate the girl, the townspeople, trying to make him see, but Cloud remained impossibly stubborn. He kept finding excuses for them all, and somehow always ended up blaming himself.

In the aftermath, Cloud became even more of an outcast. It wasn’t just the children who hated him now. Even the adults treated him like a nuisance and avoided him at all costs. To them, he was akin to a curse sent by the gods themselves to bring misfortune upon their little town.

Cloud accepted it all, took all of that hatred and carried it on his narrow, little shoulders stoically. This burden, that would have been too much even for someone much older to bear, Cloud bore without saying a thing. Without uttering a single complaint. He never blamed anyone.

Not even when those boys, who’d been bullying him all along, decided to up their game and make everything worse. It hadn’t escaped their notice that Cloud had been spending a lot of time inside the old mansion, so that became another cause for ridicule.

With the cruelty only children could muster, they started teasing him about it, calling him a freak, telling him that only monsters would be his friends. They called him a monster, too, telling him he didn’t belong in Nibelheim with the rest of them. That he should lock himself inside those musty old walls and never come out.

And Cloud let them.

When they physically attacked him, he always fought back, despite those fights being five on one, but when it came to verbal attacks, Cloud let them wash over him without saying a word. He pretended not to care, but Sephiroth could see the depth of his pain. In fact, words seemed to hurt him a lot more; they cut far deeper than superficial bruises.

In three months, Sephiroth accomplished a lot.

He became Cloud’s one and only friend, the only person in Nibelheim—apart from his own mother—he could rely on. Sephiroth was the only one who didn’t hate or abuse him, and that made Cloud cling to him desperately, hanging on to his every word, terrified of losing the only one standing between him and devastating loneliness.

Sephiroth succeeded in making Cloud doubt Tifa; he opened his eyes and made him see just how much this town hated him. On the other hand, he lavished Cloud with kindness and affection, showing him what friendship could be like.

The boy changed right before his eyes, blossoming into an entirely different person. One who knew happiness and friendship, one not condemned to eternal loneliness.

All of that would surely be enough to change the course of their future.

And so, feeling confident, Sephiroth decided to return.

He opened a portal, and traveled back to the future, to the Edge of Creation, to the exact moment when it all began.

Feeling excited and sure of himself, he reached out his hand. “Cloud, let us defy destiny together!”

Sephiroth smiled, eager to feel the weight of Cloud’s hand in his own, waiting for the reward he’d worked so hard for.

But instead, he was forced to jump away, to avoid getting sliced in half.

“Never!” Cloud roared and swung his sword again.

Sephiroth blocked the attack, feeling rattled. Cloud looked furious, even more so than the first time around.

Why?

Sephiroth couldn’t understand it. The past had changed—they became friends, didn’t they?—so what could have caused this?

They spun across the barren wasteland of the derelict planet they were stranded on, caught in a deadly dance. Cloud chased after him, furious and wild, eyes blazing, deadly and ferocious. Sparks flew whenever their swords clashed, the might of Cloud’s blows shaking Sephiroth to his core.

Sephiroth was forced on the defensive, taken aback by this unexpected turn of events, struggling to make sense of it. He hadn’t come here to fight, he hadn’t expected it, but fighting was in his blood, and quickly, instinct took over. He gathered his wits about him and fought back. The fight ended very quickly after that. With a mighty blow, he disarmed Cloud, preventing him from attacking again, and before Cloud could even blink, a sword was pressed against his throat, stilling him.

Now that he was no longer fighting for his life, Sephiroth finally had a few moments to think. He gathered his scattered thoughts, but none of this made sense. His mind was all over the place.

Cloud stood in front of him, head held high, glaring at him like he was the most despicable person in the world.

Why?

Sephiroth stared in utter disbelief, unable to do naught but watch as his carefully crafted plan fell apart before him. His hands shook with barely suppressed rage.

“I thought I was your friend, Cloud,” he purred darkly, mocking, while at the same time, genuinely trying to understand.

“Friend?” Cloud spat in disbelief. “After everything you did? You killed my mother! You burned down my home!”

Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed. “Your home? You mean the town where you were treated like dirt your whole life? Wasn’t I the only friend you had?”

A furious flush rose to Cloud’s cheeks. His hands, shaking, curled into fists at his sides.

“Just because you pretended to be my friend when I was a kid, when I was stupid enough to believe you, doesn’t change anything. You can’t seriously expect me to help you! Or... join you, or whatever it is you’re actually trying to accomplish here!”

That was it; the last straw. Sephiroth let out a furious howl, seeing red.

Cloud was the most infuriating man he’d ever known! 

With an angry wave of his hands and a powerful surge of magic, Sephiroth shoved Cloud back through a portal, sending him back to where he belonged. That left Sephiroth alone at the Edge of Creation, standing in the darkness, surrounded by the vast emptiness of space.

All that time wasted, with nothing to show for it…

Unacceptable!

Sephiroth took a deep, calming breath, reminding himself that nothing was yet lost. It was still not too late to fix this. All it would take was a little more time. A little more patience. Cloud just hadn’t become attached enough yet; that was all it was. The plan was still solid, and it would still work.

With that in mind, Sephiroth summoned his patience and returned to the past once more.

Chapter Text

Returning to the past felt like a failure.

Sephiroth hated having to spend another second in that wretched town, surrounded by its vile people. The only thing keeping him going was the thought that, one day, he’d have the pleasure of destroying it all.

Nothing would change the inevitability of that moment. Sephiroth simply needed to get Cloud to join him first; to make him see these people for what they were and accept their demise.

As the weeks and months slowly passed by, Sephiroth observed Cloud and tried to get to know him better.

He knew now why the other children hated Cloud. It had nothing to do with Cloud himself, but the circumstances surrounding his birth. 

Cloud’s mother had left Nibelheim as a young woman in the hopes of finding success in the big city. For many of the townspeople, that alone was reason enough to hate her.

Nibelheim was a small, rural town, shackled by its deeply ingrained conservative values and prejudices. They looked upon all outsiders with distrust. Leaving was seen as an act of betrayal, since it inevitably led to abandoning the Nibel way of life and becoming one with the enemy.

The moment Claudia Strife left Nibelheim, she stopped being one of the townspeople. She’d lost her place among them, and they were never going to welcome her back with open arms.

But when she returned with a baby on her arm and no ring on her finger, it created a scandal. In such a small town, it turned into a huge, salacious rumor and the tongues wouldn’t stop wagging.

The women were especially cruel. Instead of showing compassion and solidarity for one of their own, they shunned her, and even taught their children to avoid her.

And not only her.

They forbade their children from playing with the little Strife boy, because he was a bastard. A child so flawed that not even his own father wanted him.

In the eyes of the town, Claudia Strife had brought shame upon herself and her family. Worse yet—she’d brought shame upon their honest, god-fearing town.

When Cloud was little, this hadn’t mattered as much. He’d been too young to understand what the adults were saying, and Tifa had been his friend, despite her father’s wishes, so he’d never felt truly excluded from the community. But as he got older, the whispers and the pointing, the fact that he wasn’t welcome in the bakery, and that his mother had to grow vegetables in their own backyard because the grocer wouldn’t sell them any, had become impossible to ignore.

The realization that people hated him had made Cloud change, withdraw into himself. He’d gone from being a carefree, friendly little boy to becoming a recluse. It had actually been Cloud who’d distanced himself from Tifa, not wanting her reputation to suffer because of him.

At first, the girl had stubbornly refused to leave his side despite his worst efforts, but eventually, after he’d repeatedly made her feel unwelcome—she had. And even though that had been Cloud’s plan all along, his way of trying to protect her, losing her had still hurt terribly. It had crushed him when she’d given up on him and found new friends, especially when those friends turned out to be Cloud’s old bullies.

It had taken months for Cloud to slowly open up and share all of this with Sephiroth. Even years after some of it had happened, it still clearly weighed on him heavily. His pain and grief were plain to see.

And yet, there was something Sephiroth couldn’t understand, no matter how hard he tried: Cloud was sad and lonely, tired of all of this injustice, but he still wasn’t angry. Even after everything, he refused to blame these people for making him suffer. It was stupid and misguided to the point that Sephiroth was actually getting angry on his behalf.

Cloud had done nothing wrong, his only sin was being born, yet these people treated him worse than dirt and shunned him like the plague. Sephiroth knew what that was like, of course, and it made him feel a strange sense of kinship with Cloud once more. The two of them were alike in so many ways, and that was precisely why he had to make Cloud see sense. This rage Sephiroth was feeling had to be burning inside Cloud, too. All he had to do was admit it.

And so, gently, patiently, Sephiroth tried to appeal to Cloud’s reason, steering his thoughts in the right direction, constantly reminding him that he deserved better, that he owed these people nothing. He used every opportunity to bring it up and talk sense into Cloud, but sadly, even months into their acquaintance, even after Cloud had trusted Sephiroth with all of his secrets, he still wasn’t prepared to hear it.

Every time Sephiroth brought it up, Cloud would turn pensive and quiet. At best, he’d nod along and pretend to agree with whatever Sephiroth was saying, but he never took his advice; he never stood up for himself. It was as if he himself believed that he deserved such treatment, since he’d been subjected to it all his life.

One afternoon, Cloud showed up flushed and unusually awkward, alerting Sephiroth instantly that something was amiss, but nothing could have prepared him for the words that came of Cloud’s mouth.

“Ma insists on meeting you.”

“What?”

Sephiroth hadn’t seen or heard from Claudia Strife since the day he’d arrived in Nibelheim, when he had accidentally come across her on the street. She must have known about her son spending time with him, of course, but she’d never expressed any interest in meeting him. Until now.

“She says I’m spending way too much time with you, and that, since you’re an adult, it’s weird or something.”

It was weird; Sephiroth couldn’t deny that. And it wasn’t as if his intentions were pure.

Sephiroth wasn’t a predator, not in the sense that she was probably imagining, but he was still trying to manipulate Cloud to suit his own goals. Claudia Strife had every reason to worry.

And that was precisely why he couldn’t meet her. Mothers had a sixth sense about these things; one look at him, and she would know that he was up to no good.

“She wants you to come over for dinner,” Cloud added, glancing at him shyly.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t think your mother would like me, Cloud.”

“Don’t be stupid, of course she would! Besides…” He paused and bit his lip, glancing at Sephiroth from beneath his bangs, “She wasn’t asking. She insists. Either you go and meet her, or I can’t come over anymore.”

Sephiroth rubbed his eyes, feeling his frustration rising. How dare this woman give him an ultimatum?

He bit the inside of his cheek, desperately trying not to say anything offensive; he wouldn’t want to alienate Cloud, after all the effort he’d put into earning his trust.

A hand grabbing his wrist snapped Sephiroth from his thoughts. It slipped down, fingers wrapping around his own, and squeezed.

“Come on, it won’t be that bad. Ma’s a really good cook.”

Sephiroth looked down at their joined hands and reminded himself why he was doing this. He needed to earn Cloud’s trust; he needed to remain his friend. It would all be in vain if he failed now.

“Please come? I really like being your friend, Sephiroth, and I don’t want to lose that.”

Cloud’s voice was small and timid, his eyes pleading, but the hand on his own was warm and steady, and Sephiroth found himself unable to refuse.

As he agreed to come, he told himself this was all a part of his strategy, just one more step in getting what he wanted, and not him admitting defeat.

That night, Sephiroth found himself in the living room of the Strife family home, exchanging greetings and pleasantries.

The room looked just as he remembered it. Right there, next to the heavy oak table, was where he’d stabbed Claudia and left her bleeding out to death on the old, faded carpet. He remembered her voice as she’d begged him to spare her boy. The same voice that was now saying his name and welcoming him into their home. 

It was almost impossible to reconcile those two images—one with a table full of delicious food, Cloud and Claudia laughing, lost in conversation, and the other, much darker, with upturned furniture, a corpse and fire licking up the walls.

Cloud pulled out a chair next to him and patted it. “Come, sit down. Let’s eat before it gets cold!”

Sitting down, Sephiroth looked at the spread in front of him; Claudia had truly outdone herself. With her limited funds and no access to most shops in town, it must have taken a lot of effort to prepare this feast. There was the Nibelheim stew, of course, but she’d also made some homemade bread, an elaborate salad, with several different kinds of vegetables, and with the smell of vanilla wafting in from the kitchen, there had to be some dessert, as well.

“Thank you for inviting me, ma’am,” he said, using his most polite voice, usually reserved for Shinra’s grand galas and television appearances. “You needn’t have gone through all this trouble.”

“It was nothing. Thank you for accepting my invitation,” she said, just as politely, even though they both knew he hadn’t been given a choice. “I wanted to meet the man my son is so taken with. I think he spends more time with you than he does at home.”

She was polite and smiling, but there was a distinct edge to her voice. It wasn’t an outright accusation, but there was some unmistakable underlying suspicion there. Sephiroth chuckled, playing along, pretending he hadn’t picked up on the subtext.

They made small talk and ignored the strange tension in the air. Claudia tried to be a good host, and Sephiroth politely praised her cooking. Not that he needed to lie; it was indeed very nice. The local cuisine was quite different from what he was used to, but it was delicious in a rural, simplistic kind of way.

When they finished with their meal, Claudia gave Cloud a little nudge. “Get the cake for us, honey. Make sure to cut Sephiroth a nice, big slice.”

“Sure, Ma,” Cloud said before hopping off his chair and darting to the kitchen.

Now, with the two of them finally alone, Sephiroth prepared himself for whatever was coming. He met Claudia’s eyes unflinchingly.

“I’m sure you can understand why I have concerns about you spending time with my son.”

“I assure you, ma’am, nothing inappropriate is going on.”

She huffed and gave him a look. “You’re an adult, spending time with a thirteen year old boy. That alone is already inappropriate.”

Sephiroth scowled, his tightly controlled façade cracking. Claudia was right and he couldn’t deny it, so he decided to do what he knew best: attack.

“I don’t know if you’re aware, but some of the local children have been harassing Cloud for months. Maybe longer.”

He hadn’t outright accused her of anything, but his intention was clear; the accusation hung in the air between them, loaded and heavy. Claudia narrowed her eyes, her back straightening, instantly defensive. The worst thing Sephiroth could possibly do was accuse her of being a bad mother, of neglecting her child. 

“I am aware,” she said coldly, glaring at him. 

“Then you must understand why I’ve been teaching Cloud how to defend himself. Now that he can fight back, they don’t bother him as often.”

He was practically saying, See, I protected him when you could not.

Claudia’s eyes flashed angrily, but she looked away in shame, her mouth pressed in a thin line. 

“He mentioned that, and I’m grateful, but that doesn’t explain the amount of time you spend together every day.”

“I give Cloud a safe space to study and have fun away from those kids. That’s all it is. But I understand if you’re uneasy about him spending time with me. Next time he shows up on my doorstep, I’ll turn him away.”

Sephiroth had no intention of doing that, of course. He was simply bluffing, telling her what she wanted to hear, because his instincts told him that was the only way to convince her. And as Claudia’s expression faltered, he knew he’d made the right call.

“If you turn him away, it will crush him,” she whispered. She looked at Sephiroth, as if trying to gaze into his very soul, something profoundly sad in her eyes. “You really want to protect him?”

“Of course.”

“Why? Why do you care?”

“When I arrived in Nibelheim, I saw those kids attacking Cloud, five on one. It wasn’t a fair fight, and I didn’t want to see it happen again. Anyone would have done the same.”

“Not anyone,” Claudia insisted.

“Perhaps. But I couldn’t sit back and do nothing. That’s why I decided to teach Cloud how to defend himself.”

Sephiroth lied expertly, using all of his powers of manipulation to work his magic on Claudia, but she was a tough nut to crack. Even after everything, she still regarded him with suspicion, weighing every single word coming out of his mouth, so Sephiroth tried to project an image of openness and honesty.

Claudia could sense there was something off about him, he was certain of it. The problem was, she couldn’t pinpoint what it was, and had nothing to accuse him of.

For a long moment, Claudia was lost in thought, but eventually, she found her voice again.

“You know, Cloud talks about you all the time. He really looks up to you.” She looked at him, her eyes begging him to understand, but Sephiroth really couldn’t see the problem. As far as he was concerned, Cloud looking up to him would never be anything but a good thing. “You seem like a decent person, Sephiroth, but Cloud is at a very impressionable age. Even if your heart is in the right place and you’re not trying to do anything inappropriate, I’m afraid Cloud could get the wrong idea. He’s a very softhearted boy.”

Sephiroth blinked slowly, unable to believe what she was implying.

What a ridiculous thing to say; the last word Sephiroth would use to describe Cloud was softhearted. Even as a child, he was scrappy and rude and resilient. He didn’t need to be coddled. And he wasn’t an idiot who would misread a little kindness and think it was more than it actually was.

And yet…

For some reason, the idea took root in Sephiroth’s mind and grew, morphing and evolving, making him wonder.

If Cloud developed a crush on him as a child, perhaps that would make him more inclined to forgive Sephiroth in the future. Maybe it would finally make him obey. After all, romantic feelings were usually far stronger than friendship.

Love was something Sephiroth had never considered before, but if there was even the slightest chance of Cloud seeing him that way, he should definitely encourage it.

He would need to think about this and assess his options.

For now, he looked Claudia Strife straight in the eye and dismissed it.

“You have nothing to worry about, ma’am. Cloud is obsessed with learning how to fight; that’s why he’s coming to me. It has nothing to do with feelings, or me as a person. He just wants to train.”

The conversation was cut short as Cloud barged into the room, juggling three plates full of cake, and Sephiroth jumped up to help him. Frankly, he was grateful for the excuse.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, and they parted amicably.

Claudia still eyed him with some suspicion as they said their goodbyes, but it seemed that he’d managed to assuage her most pressing fears. After all, the greatest fear was that of the unknown. And now that she’d met him, and he’d presented himself as a reasonable and friendly individual, her mind was probably at ease. Humans were funny like that.

In truth, she had plenty of reasons to worry; even more now that she’d given Sephiroth a brand new idea on how to approach Cloud.

Chapter Text

When Sephiroth arrived in Nibelheim, it was late spring. The forest was in full bloom, strikingly green and beautiful. Soon, its colors dulled, as it suffered the overbearing heat of the summer, slowly losing its youthful beauty, until all the leaves eventually withered and died in the fall. It was winter now, already, bitterly cold and merciless.

Sephiroth’s enhanced body could easily adapt to all kinds of weather, but he’d never experienced such biting cold before. It was the kind that got under your skin, chilling you to the bone, until it felt like you’d never get warm again.

The days were maddeningly short, which meant that Cloud wasn’t allowed to spend as much time with him, since his mother insisted on him coming home before dark. Sephiroth was dreadfully bored, longing for spring to come.

Spending so much time alone left him with a lot of time to think. And the main thing on his mind were Claudia’s words. He kept wondering, over and over again, what it would take to make Cloud like him even more. Back in their original timeline, Cloud had had no special connection to him before that Nibelheim mission, so this would surely lead to a great change in the future.

Trouble was, Sephiroth had never tried to make anyone like him before. People either adored him for all the wrong reasons, believing him to be someone he was not, or they resented and envied him, but in both of those cases, Sephiroth had done nothing to encourage them, and whatever they were feeling was their own problem to deal with. He’d never gone out of his way to get anyone to like him. And even those who did like him for who he was—Angeal came to mind instantly—did so for their own, seemingly inexplicable reasons that Sephiroth couldn’t fathom. He’d never encouraged Angeal’s attempts at friendship, but the man had stubbornly stuck by him, anyway.

So, what could Sephiroth do?

In the past, whenever people wanted to win his favor or show interest in him, they had showered him with presents. It had never worked on him, of course, since he couldn’t be bought with simple trinkets, and he’d had no interest in any of those people anyway, but that was what people usually did, wasn’t it? Gifts were an easy, low-effort way to make someone happy and get them to like you.

Sephiroth had missed Cloud's birthday, back in August, but Yule was coming up. He could get Cloud a present… but what would he want?

Come to think of it, Sephiroth had never given anyone a present before. What did humans usually do for these kinds of festivities? Sephiroth himself used to receive truckloads of fan mail, homemade chocolates and plush toys, but somehow, he doubted Cloud would be interested in any of those.

Later in life, Genesis used to bring him wine, which he would usually open and drink himself while talking Sephiroth’s ear off about one thing or another, but a bottle of wine certainly didn’t seem appropriate for someone Cloud’s age.

So what did that leave him?

For all the time they’d spent together, Cloud had never talked about his wants and needs. Too aware of his mother’s financial situation, he had never expressed any materialistic desires, which now left Sephiroth stumped. He knew about Cloud’s love for animals, but he certainly wasn’t in the position to adopt a pet.

And then Sephiroth remembered something. Once, Cloud had told him about his love for chocobos, and how much he wanted to ride one. “They’re such amazing animals,” he had said, voice filled with awe, and Sephiroth knew that was his answer.

But how in the world was he going to get a chocobo, in Nibelheim, in the middle of winter?

Well. Using his powers, he could simply pop off to another world, “borrow” a chocobo, bring it here, and return it after Cloud had had his fun. Considering how he had no money—since leaving humanity behind, such things had ceased to matter to him, which meant that Sephiroth was constantly broke—he was in no position to buy one, so this turned out to be his best and only course of action.

And so, a few days before Yule, Sephiroth took two chocobos from some kid’s ranch and brought them to this timeline, hoping to surprise Cloud. Without telling him anything, Sephiroth led him out the back door, where the birds were waiting, tied to a makeshift post. They were ruffling their feathers, irritated by the cold. Sephiroth had picked out the two tamest chocobos he could find, but the sudden change in climate had still upset them, leaving them restless and agitated.

“Chocobos!” Cloud cried with a huge smile, bouncing toward them immediately. 

“Don’t scare them,” Sephiroth said with a chuckle.

“Oh my god, oh my god, where did you get them?”

Sephiroth pressed a finger to his lips, feeling deeply smug. “It’s a secret.”

“Aw, come on!”

“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.”

“Pff,” Cloud snorted, dismissing the idea as ridiculous, making something warm and heavy settle in Sephiroth’s chest. Everything was so different here, in this world. Cloud found the idea of Sephiroth killing him laughable... and hat was how it should be. His puppet should know he’d never actually harm him. He was far too precious to be sacrificed, no matter the end goal. “Fine, keep your secrets. But why are they here?”

“For you, Cloud.”

“What?” Cloud whirled around to face him, eyes huge and full of wonder.

“You said you would like to ride a chocobo, so this is my gift to you.”

“What, like... for Yule?” Cloud asked in a trembling voice.

“If you like.”

“I...” He glanced at Sephiroth, then turned around to stare at the chocobos again. Slowly, he approached them and petted one on the head. His hair was the same shade of yellow as the chocobo’s feathers, and Sephiroth tried not to laugh. “No one’s ever given me a Yule present before. I mean, no one other than Ma.”

When he looked at Sephiroth again, his eyes were brimming with emotion, a blinding smile upon his face. His expression could only be described as adoration. “Thank you,” he choked out.

Sephiroth walked up to him, feeling deeply pleased with himself, sudden confidence making him feel ten feet tall. He gave Cloud a little nudge.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Didn’t you want to ride it?”

“Can I?” he gasped, as if he still couldn’t believe it. He tried to grab the saddle and hoist himself up, but he was far too short to reach it. He struggled for a few moments before Sephiroth grabbed him by the waist and lifted him up, making sure he was secure in the seat before releasing him.

“Um, thanks,” Cloud stammered, red as a tomato, and Sephiroth chuckled.

He showed Cloud the basics, told him it was all instinctive anyway, assuring him he would easily figure out the rest as they go, and then they were off, breaking off into a gallop, heading for the mountain.

They rode down snow-covered mountain paths, freezing wind whipping their faces, the chill seeping under their clothes, but Cloud’s joyous laughter kept the cold at bay. To his great surprise, Sephiroth found that he, too, was having... fun. It was just so liberating and thrilling to let go and enjoy the ride without thinking about any plans or goals or consequences. It was the most relaxing thing he had done in a very long time.

Cloud was riding next to him, trying to keep up, but they were moving way too fast. As someone who’d never ridden a chocobo before, he quickly lost control over the bird. Irritated by the cold weather, the chocobo let out an angry cry, flapping its wings, nearly dislodging Cloud in the process.

“Whoa!”

Losing his grip on the reins, Cloud swayed in the saddle.

“Be careful,” Sephiroth warned. “Keep a firm grip, or you might...”

But it was too late.

Suddenly, the chocobo bucked wildly, sending Cloud flying. He shot through the air with a terrified scream, setting off a chain reaction; a startled flock of birds erupted in flight, disturbing the heavy layers of snow that had clung to the trees, making it fall in heaps all around them.

Sephiroth let out a heavy sigh and headed for the Cloud-shaped hole in the snow.

He’d been lucky enough to land in a big heap off the side of the road, leaving him unhurt. The same couldn’t be said about his dignity, though. He sputtered, arms flailing, while his chocobo ran off on its own.

His hair had fallen out of his ponytail at some point during the fall, leaving it wilder than ever, drenched in the melting snow. He looked like a half-drowned chocobo with soppy yellow feathers sticking to its face. 

One look at him had Sephiroth doubling over with laughter. 

“It’s not that funny,” Cloud said sullenly.

“Oh, but it is.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be worried about me or something?” the boy asked, glaring at him.

“Why would I be? You’re clearly unharmed.”

“I mean… yeah, but still. Adults always fret.”

“By adults, you mean your mother?” Sephiroth scoffed. He dismounted and walked up to Cloud quickly, offering a hand to pull him up. “I don’t fret, Cloud, and I’m certainly not your mother.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to worry just a little,” Cloud grumbled, brushing snow off his clothes. It was a pointless effort; he was completely soaked already. They’d need to get back quickly, so he wouldn’t catch a cold.

Reaching over, Sephiroth brushed clumps of snow out of his hair, and it made Cloud freeze, words dying on the tip of his tongue. He looked up at Sephiroth in shock.

“You’re stronger than you think, Cloud,” he said softly, and the boy shivered, either from the cold or the words themselves.

Time continued its merciless march, and in a blink of an eye it was summer again.

When Cloud showed up one August evening and informed Sephiroth his birthday was coming up, it didn’t come as a surprise. Sephiroth had prepared for it; he even got him a proper present this time. Well... “proper” was a bit of a stretch, perhaps, since it was still borrowed from another timeline, but Cloud didn’t need to know that. 

What Sephiroth hadn’t expected, however, was for Cloud to invite him to his birthday party, of all things.

“A party?” he echoed in disbelief.

“I mean, it’s just dinner and a cake, but... yeah.”

“You want me to go and spend time with your mother again?”

His tone must have made it clear how he felt about the idea, because there was suddenly confusion, and even hurt, in Cloud’s eyes. “Why not?”

“Too many reasons to count, Cloud. Why would you even want me to come? We see each other every day.”

“But it’s my birthday,” he said, as if that explained it. And maybe, to someone more human than Sephiroth, who actually understood the significance of a birthday, it would have. But to him, it meant nothing. It was just a day that happened to mark the anniversary of one’s birth. In a time of war or great tragedy, celebrating one’s continued existence made sense; but a child living at home with his mother had no reason to fear death. Living to see another year was a matter of course, not a great feat worth celebrating.

“I can simply give you your present the next day.”

Obviously, Cloud disagreed.

“I don’t care about the stupid present! It’s my special day, Sephiroth. I want you to be there.”

“Why? We can celebrate here, if it matters so much to you.”

“No! I want to celebrate with you both. You and Ma are the most important people in my life, and I want both of you to be there.”

Sephiroth stared at him, stunned, the words echoing in his head.

The most important people in his life.

Sephiroth was one of the most important people in Cloud’s life.

He’d never mattered so much to anyone before!

…And that was how Sephiroth found himself suffering through another dinner at the Strife family home.

Claudia was much friendlier this time. Sephiroth had a feeling she still didn’t fully trust him, but he’d been friends with Cloud for over a year already, and since he hadn’t harmed him in any way, she now probably considered him “safe”.

The dinner was another feast of traditional Nibel dishes, crowned with a modest, but delicious cake. Cloud blew out the candles with a big smile on his face, refusing to tell anyone what he’d wished for, and then it was time for him to open his presents.

Claudia gave him a lovely knit sweater that was obviously handmade. The stitches were a little sloppy, but it must have taken a lot of time and effort to make; a true testament to a mother’s love and dedication… Even if happened to be the wrong season for it, Sephiroth thought testily.

“Thanks, Ma!” Cloud hugged her with a huge smile, and Sephiroth felt another flare of irritation. What was so special about a damn sweater?

“I’m sorry I didn’t manage to finish it in time for Yule,” she said sheepishly, returning the hug.

“It’s perfect, Ma. Don’t worry. It’ll be winter again in no time!”

Sephiroth resisted the urge to roll his eyes and snap at him to hurry up. He hated being ignored, but he bit his lip and forced himself to keep quiet until finally, finally, Cloud put away that worthless piece of cloth and turned to Sephiroth’s present. His lavish gift would leave that meager offering in the dust.

He waited with bated breath as Cloud eyed the huge box, trying and failing to guess what was hiding inside it. All of his guesses were exceedingly modest and simplistic; his mind couldn’t even imagine the gift Sephiroth had prepared for him. 

As Cloud tore up the wrapping paper, Sephiroth glanced at Claudia, trying to catch her reaction. And, oh, there it was. The tightening around her brows, a muscle twitching in her jaw. Their eyes met, and Sephiroth sent her an exaggerated, overly polite smile.

“A sword!” Cloud cried out in disbelief. “You seriously got me a freaking sword?!”

The sweater lay forgotten on the sofa next to him, and Sephiroth tried not to gloat. No one could take care of his puppet better than he could; not even his own mother.

He’d gone out of his way to obtain this present—a shiny new Buster Sword.

Somewhere out there, in one of those other meaningless worlds, an Angeal had lost an important gift his father had worked tirelessly to provide, but it was a sacrifice for a greater cause. Angeal would surely understand. Besides, Sephiroth had never understood why Angeal had stubbornly refused to use that sword, anyway. At least now, it would be put to good use. So, really, what was the harm? Sacrificing one random world—even countless worlds, to be fair—was more than worth it in exchange for the look of such unadulterated happiness on Cloud’s face.

“That sword must have been very expensive, Sephiroth,” Claudia said tightly. “But isn’t Cloud a little young to be playing with real swords?”

“I’m fourteen, Ma. I’m more than old enough!”

Claudia looked unconvinced, glaring daggers at Sephiroth, so he added, “It isn’t supposed to be a toy. A real sword is a great responsibility.”

“Of course,” Cloud said quickly, trying to prove how mature and responsible he was.

“Since Cloud enjoys sword fighting so much, I thought it was time for him to start training in earnest.”

Cloud was already raising the sword, getting a feel for it in his hands. It was too big for him, even at sixteen, but now, at fourteen, it absolutely dwarfed him. He could barely lift it.

Claudia still didn’t seem thrilled with the idea, but with Cloud so obviously excited, there was nothing she could do; not unless she wanted to ruin his birthday. And that was how the Buster Sword ended up in Cloud’s possession much sooner in this timeline, and Sephiroth solidified his place as of one of Cloud’s favorite people in the world.

Over the next year, Sephiroth spent time with Cloud, inserting himself into every aspect of the boy’s life, establishing a strong bond, determined to make him change.

Every few months, he returned to the future, only to fail once more.

He couldn’t understand what he was doing wrong. Cloud adored him—that much was obvious. He spent nearly every waking moment at Sephiroth’s side, confiding in him, seeking advice, trusting him above all others. Sephiroth used their bond to fill his mind with hatred at every opportunity...

So why wasn’t it working?

A few months or even years were nothing in the span of one’s lifetime, of course. The time they spent together was a mere drop in the vast ocean of consciousness. However, Sephiroth couldn’t believe that it had all been for nothing. Cloud had come to care for him so deeply, so how was it even possible that the future remained unchanged?

Or rather… something had changed, just not the way Sephiroth had hoped. Every time he returned to the future, Cloud seemed even angrier.

That very first time, in their original timeline, when Sephiroth had asked Cloud to join him, he had hesitated. He’d seemed so close to giving in. And now… there were times he wouldn’t even allow Sephiroth to finish speaking before attacking him.

To someone like Sephiroth, a perfectionist unused to failure, each refusal was a source of endless frustration. Worse yet, he couldn’t understand Cloud’s behavior at all, so he had no idea how to change it.

Cloud was such an infuriating man; a human-shaped conundrum sent to this planet to drive Sephiroth mad. But he refused to give up. No matter how long it took, he would keep trying until Cloud changed his mind, until he saw sense and agreed to take Sephiroth’s hand, because any victory would be meaningless without him.

And so Sephiroth went back and forth, trying again and again.

In the meantime, he trained Cloud, listened to his worries, encouraged him, and watched him grow.

During one sparring session, Sephiroth decided to test Cloud’s skills and readiness, hoping to see how much he’d learned. And as such, Sephiroth decided to treat him as a worthy opponent instead of a helpless child.

It didn’t go well.

Cloud tried his best, darting around and evading Sephiroth’s vicious attacks, but as soon as he tried to block one, he was sent sprawling on the floor. He grunted in pain as he landed on his back.

Anger and frustration roiled inside Sephiroth. What a pathetic attempt! He missed his Cloud and the challenge he offered, now more than ever. Fighting him had always been exhilarating, pushing Sephiroth to his limit, forcing him to actually struggle in a way he’d never had to before. Cloud’s strength was one of the main things Sephiroth enjoyed about him.

So how long would it take this child to turn into that man?

He sighed and banished his weapon.

Cloud was still on the floor, struggling to catch his breath. Every second he took to get back up made Sephiroth's anger flare even hotter. Tired of waiting, he marched over to the boy, grabbed him by the arm and hauled him up.

“Your stance was all wrong.”

“I know,” Cloud said sullenly.

“You have to plant your feet so no one can topple you.”

“I know!”

“If you know, then do it right!” Sephiroth snapped.

They scowled at each other, and with each passing second, Sephiroth’s anger grew and grew and grew, until it exploded out of him. He wasn’t in the mood to take the boy’s cheek.

He seized Cloud by the shoulders and twisted him around, roughly tugging him against himself. Cloud gasped, tensing, but didn’t pull away.

Grabbing his wrists, Sephiroth made him lift his arms, positioning the sword where it should be, and kicked his feet apart.

“You need to bend your knees, like this.” He pushed his knee into the back of Cloud’s, forcing him to bend down a little. Cloud’s breath hitched, his body going rigid in Sephiroth’s arms, but Sephiroth ignored him, too angry to focus on anything other than the task at hand. His grip tightened, not letting Cloud move away. “You have to tilt your sword like this so it can’t be forced out of your hand. We’ve been over this so many times already!” he scolded, annoyed and exasperated, manhandling Cloud without thinking.

There was no reply. 

Cloud was no longer mouthing off; he’d become unusually quiet instead.

It was only then that Sephiroth became aware of the slight tremor running through the boy’s body. His heart was pounding so hard that Sephiroth could hear it in the space between them. He seemed terrified… but why would he be?

His symptoms could also mean that he was furious or…

Suddenly, Claudia’s words came back to him.

Perhaps…

Experimentally, Sephiroth dragged his hand over the boy’s arm in the barest whisper of a touch and watched in fascination as he shivered. It was a hot, summer day, and Cloud certainly wasn’t cold.

How curious.

Sephiroth moved around to face him, and what he found delighted him even more. The boy was flushed, eyes wide, pupils blown so hard the blue was barely visible.

Most curious.

Sephiroth, however, had no interest in the reactions of this child. The only question on his mind was—would his Cloud react the same? Would he long for Sephiroth’s touch just the same?

The need to know was burning with him, suddenly unbearable. But in the end, there was only one way to find out—Sephiroth would have to be patient and wait until Cloud was ready to take his place by his side. In the meantime, all he could do was encourage these feelings, nurture them, making them blossom and grow, until they were strong enough to persist and carry over into the man he wanted.

Just thinking about the possibility of one day his Cloud looking at him with such longing and adoration made all of Sephiroth’s rage evaporate.

He smiled at the boy and patted his cheek. “Let’s try again.”

When Cloud was about fifteen, he finally became aware of General Sephiroth from his own timeline.

Sephiroth had made sure to keep Cloud away from the news until then, to avoid questions he couldn’t possibly answer. But when his counterpart had finally matured enough that the two of them looked almost exactly the same, Sephiroth had allowed the inevitable to happen.

Seeing him on the news had filled Cloud with endless questions. He couldn’t believe that he was friends with a celebrity—the great hero of the Wutai War, whom everyone adored. It was blowing his little mind.

Sephiroth played into it, telling Cloud that Shinra was the reason he had to leave Nibelheim on occasion—in truth, he was taking small jumps into the future, speeding up this bonding process, too eager and impatient to get back to the man he wanted—and Cloud believed him.

If he had thought about it for more than a second, he would have realized that Sephiroth’s story made no sense whatsoever—his short absences couldn’t account for all the time he should have spent in Wutai—but Cloud trusted him implicitly. Sephiroth’s word was law and he never questioned it.

He looked up to Sephiroth and repeatedly told him that he wanted to become a hero—just like him. The words tasted so sweet, like victory, especially after his Cloud had called him a monster so many times, insisting they were nothing alike. They were one and the same, and now Cloud was finally beginning to see it.

As the years passed, Cloud grew into a competent young man, far more confident than Sephiroth remembered him. Being friends with a famous, distinguished hero did wonders for his self-esteem.

“I’m going to become a SOLDIER, like you,” Cloud told him one day, and Sephiroth tried not to gloat.

Cloud was making such an important life decision with him in mind, shaping his entire future around him. Sephiroth didn’t even have to fake the smile this brought to his face. Cloud’s dreams and ambitions involved staying by his side, and Sephiroth was certain he’d already won.

It did make him wonder, though, what Cloud’s original reason had been, back in their own timeline. Back then, he hadn’t cared about Sephiroth, surely. So what had made him want to become a SOLDIER, without Sephiroth there to guide him?

It was a question he would probably never know the answer to, but that was a small price to pay, as long as the future changed the way he wanted it to.

Claudia wasn’t thrilled with the idea of her son joining the army, but Cloud was impossible to dissuade. They argued about it for days, until she eventually gave him her blessing. She blamed Sephiroth for giving Cloud these dangerous ideas, since he was the one who had given Cloud a sword, but she seemed more worried than genuinely angry.

They spent the last day before Cloud’s departure alone inside the mansion, talking. It was their last real chance to spend some uninterrupted time together, and Sephiroth had much to say.

Once they were inside Shinra, everything would change. Sephiroth had to avoid his other self at all costs, so he would no longer be able to remain at Cloud’s side. It would be too risky. But in order to avoid him, Sephiroth had to come up with a plausible excuse.

“Once you become a trooper, we won’t be able to spend time together like this.”

“What?” Cloud’s head snapped up. “Why?”

“I cannot be seen showing favoritism, Cloud. It would get us both in trouble.”

Cloud frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You want to become a SOLDIER, right?”

“Sure, but what does—”

“Since I’m in charge of SOLDIER, if people knew about us being friends, they’d doubt you got in on merit. They’d hate you, Cloud, and I don’t want you to go through that again.”

Cloud grew very quiet, probably remembering all the years he’d spent being bullied. He certainly wouldn’t want that to happen again, now that he was getting a fresh start.

“Does that mean I won’t see you at all?” Cloud asked softly, without looking at him.

Sephiroth had noticed it before, but Cloud had serious abandonment issues. It became especially obvious whenever Sephiroth had to “leave” Nibelheim for a while. Cloud would get very quiet and dejected, acting as if they would never see each other again. As if Sephiroth leaving meant that he would never return.

Perhaps this was due to the fact that Cloud had never met his father, or perhaps it was because his closest childhood friend had left him, but Cloud was really deathly afraid of losing people he cared about.

It pleased Sephiroth to no end to be counted among them. He could practically taste Cloud’s despair in the air between them, and he smiled.

“I would never leave you, Cloud,” he purred. “Of course we will see each other.” The relief in Cloud’s eyes was almost palpable; it made Sephiroth’s chest swell with pride. “We just have to be careful and not let anyone see us.”

Cloud nodded, eager to please, desperate not to lose him for good. “I’ll be careful.”

“Make sure that you are. Even when we’re alone, as long as we’re inside the Shinra building, don’t mention our past. There will be cameras everywhere, and if the higher ups find out about our connection, they might send you packing.”

Cloud’s eyes widened in fear. “They’d do that?”

“They don’t like people getting close to me,” Sephiroth lied smoothly. “That’s why I was always alone before I met you, Cloud.”

Cloud’s eyes softened as he reached for Sephiroth’s hand, trying to offer comfort. It felt strange. No one had ever tried to comfort him before, especially not Cloud. His hand was warm and gentle, so small compared to Sephiroth’s. The touch sent warmth spreading through his body, making him long for something he could not name. It made him restless, uneasy, and he squashed that useless feeling, furious with himself for being rattled by such a simple gesture.

“I will call you as often as I can,” he assured Cloud. “I promise to keep in touch.”

He cupped Cloud’s cheek as he said it, cataloguing his reactions. Cloud looked up at him, something small and fragile in his eyes.

Sephiroth had rarely touched Cloud over the years, but he’d done everything in his power to foster closeness between them, to encourage whatever Cloud may be feeling. All of his touches were perfectly innocent—a pat on the head, a heavy hand on the shoulder, a playful shove here and there. But to Cloud, who was starved for affection, those touches held a far deeper significance. Sephiroth could see it in his eyes and the way his body reacted.

There was never any overt flirting or seduction involved, but each one of Sephiroth’s touches was carefully calculated, designed to make Cloud yearn for him. Poor Cloud didn’t even realize he was playing right into Sephiroth’s hand. His plan was working almost too well. Cloud looked at him with adoration, and Sephiroth’s blood buzzed, feeling high on triumph.

As soon as Cloud left for Midgar, Sephiroth opened a portal, feeling very sure of himself.

In a blink of an eye, he was back at the Edge of Creation, standing across an adult Cloud, reaching out to him.

“Cloud, lend me your strength. Let us defy destiny together!”

He watched emotions flit across that familiar face. So similar, yet so different. Age had made it sharper, the lines on it more pronounced. The softness Sephiroth had gotten used to seeing every day was long gone. The way Cloud looked at him now was completely different.

At Sephiroth’s words, his eyes widened in disbelief. There was longing in them, and pain, and finally… rage.

“You bastard,” Cloud whispered. His hand trembled as it gripped the sword. Fury flashed in his eyes, sharp and deadly. “How dare you ask me that?”

Ah, back to that, are we?

Sephiroth clicked his tongue, annoyed. 

“I trusted you,” Cloud accused angrily. “I thought you were my friend, and you betrayed me!”

He looked angrier than Sephiroth had ever seen him, practically vibrating with rage. He was beautiful. Sephiroth was mesmerized by all the glorious emotions playing across his face—the blazing eyes, flushed cheeks, bared teeth. And, oh, there were tears of rage in the corners of his eyes! Sephiroth desperately wanted to taste them.

So raw. So wild. He was the most beautiful thing Sephiroth had ever seen.

“How could you do that to me, Sephiroth?” Cloud demanded.

It appeared that Sephiroth had miscalculated yet again. Things had changed for the worse once more.

He’d been so certain of his success this time… After all, Cloud had gotten so very attached.

And yet, here they were again, still stuck in this endless cycle.

With a heavy sigh, without bothering to answer any of his questions, Sephiroth banished Cloud back to his world, and headed back into the past.

If Cloud’s infatuation was not enough, what more could he do?

Of course, there was that one simple, obvious solution—he could choose to spare Nibelheim, and Cloud would have no reason to hate him anymore, but that was not a concession Sephiroth was willing to make. Whether Cloud realized it or not, those people deserved to die.

It was more difficult to keep working on his plan now that he could no longer remain at Cloud’s side, but Sephiroth made sure to message him regularly, to always stay present in Cloud’s thoughts… and his heart.

Cloud was busy training, barely having time for anything else. With the advanced training Sephiroth had given him, he easily became one of the best ranked cadets in the entire army. He was considered a prime candidate for the SOLDIER program and he couldn’t be happier.

Unfortunately, even after passing the exam with flying colors, Cloud was refused once more. It turned out that it had never been about his capabilities; it was his height that was the problem.

This news came as a crushing blow.

Learning that there was nothing he could do, that there was no amount of training that would get him into the program, left Cloud feeling devastated. Sephiroth consoled him; first over messages and calls, and when that didn’t work, he took a risk and decided to meet him.

They met up on the outskirts of Midgar, late at night, under the cover of darkness. It was a stupid, unnecessary risk, but the moment Cloud saw him, he flung himself into his arms, and Sephiroth couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

Cloud was inconsolable, tears in his eyes, and the fact that he would seek him out in these moments, that he would find solace in him, meant everything to Sephiroth.

He held Cloud as he cried.

“Becoming a SOLDIER has been my dream for such a long time... I don’t know what to do with my life now.”

“Are you considering leaving Shinra?”

“What?” Cloud asked, utterly shocked, as if the thought had never even crossed his mind. “No... I-I don’t know. I never had a backup plan.”

“Why not stay on as a trooper? I would rest easy knowing I had you watching my back.”

Cloud snorted, smiling through his tears. “As if you need anyone to watch your back.”

“Maybe not,” Sephiroth agreed with a smirk. “But I would still like to have you there, Cloud.”

Cloud looked at him, vulnerable and uncertain, completely lost and unmoored. In the end, he closed his eyes and nodded.

“Alright,” he whispered. “I’ll always be by your side, Sephiroth. As long as you need me.”

Sephiroth wanted to capture this moment, to freeze and preserve it in his memory forever. He wanted to make Cloud swear it, to make him give him his word, then force him to keep it until the end of his days.

Another part of him wanted to run straight back to the future, to see if it had finally changed. To check if Cloud’s promise held true.

But after the last time, he doubted it. Cloud’s infatuation was not enough—he knew that now. Something more substantial needed to change.

If infatuation was not enough, it would have to be more.

He would have to become someone truly irreplaceable to Cloud.

A person who meant to him more than any other.

In other words…

He would have to make Cloud fall in love with him.

Chapter Text

Now that Cloud had joined Shinra, Sephiroth’s days had become so boring they were downright unbearable.

He was all alone, miserable, with nothing to do, and although that allowed him to make small jumps into the future, skipping days or even weeks at a time, he was still forced to spend most of his time here, in this timeline, reinforcing his connection to Cloud through calls and messages.

As time went on, it astonished him how deeply Cloud’s absence was felt. Sephiroth missed him more than he ever imagined he would. His absence left a void, an empty space filled with nothing but silence.

Some days, Sephiroth would make an offhand comment and turn around, only to realize that no one was there. Until now, he’d never noticed how lonely his days could get. Being alone had never bothered him in the past, but now that he knew what it was like to have a companion, a friend, being alone started to feel like a punishment; like something vital had been taken away.

What bothered Sephiroth even more than loneliness, however, was the thought of Cloud doing things without him.

Maintaining a presence in Cloud’s life became more important than ever now that his world was rapidly expanding. He was constantly meeting new people, living a life of his own that Sephiroth was no longer a part of. And that... That bothered Sephiroth more than a little.

The thought of any part of Cloud not belonging to him was almost unbearable. Unacceptable. More than once, he considered replacing the version of himself from this world, taking his place and using his position to monitor Cloud at all times. That way, he could keep an eye on Cloud as he trained and find excuses to meet him.

It would be so easy to do that. It would take no effort at all to defeat that inferior version of himself, but doing so would lead to too many complications in the long run. On top of that, Sephiroth didn’t want to be burdened with the responsibilities his other self was forced to deal with. Going on missions for Shinra, taking care of meaningless paperwork, becoming Hojo’s lab rat once more... None of that sounded very appealing. 

Besides, Sephiroth had to ensure that his past remained the same. It was in the fires of Nibelheim that his and Cloud’s destinies had become forever intertwined, and he never wanted to do anything to jeopardize that. His other self had an important part to play in making that happen, so Sephiroth decided not to get in his way.

But the monotony of his days slowly driving Sephiroth insane. He kept trying to come up with ways to meet Cloud, but nothing ever worked. Cloud was being infuriatingly responsible. He’d really taken Sephiroth’s words to heart—his warning that he might get dismissed if anyone found out about them being friends—so he refused to meet Sephiroth even in a remote place where no one could see them.

Without Cloud, Sephiroth’s days became dull and endless, and the longer this situation lasted, the more frustrated he became. Somehow, it had already been half a year since he’d last seen Cloud. Despite wasting so much time, Sephiroth was no closer to getting what he wanted. His plan fell by the wayside. How was he supposed to make Cloud fall in love with him when he couldn’t even see him?

Things only got worse when Sephiroth realized that Cloud was now making friends. At first, there was an occasional mention of a name he did not know, then a few others, and then one name started to stand out, getting repeated again and again, ever-present in almost every conversation, making Sephiroth anger turn all-consuming.

Zack Fair appeared out of nowhere, blindsiding him. Sephiroth had somehow completely forgotten that he and Cloud used to be friends. If he’d remembered, he would have warned Cloud away, or done something to Fair to prevent him from ever getting close to Cloud.

But it was too late now.

He and Cloud were becoming alarmingly close, and Sephiroth couldn’t be there to stop it. It made him reconsider his decision not to take his other self’s place. Being at Shinra would give him the power to send Fair away, to assign him to some remote outpost, where he would not have contact with the outside world, making sure he never bothered Cloud again. He could demote him or dissect him and feed him to Rufus’s dogs.

In the end, not being there was the worst part, because he kept imagining Cloud and Fair together, and it infuriated him beyond all sense and reason.

Cloud was full of stories about Fair. It seemed like he had a new one to share every time they talked. And every time that name was brought up, Sephiroth’s anger grew and grew and grew.

Sephiroth had never had anything against Fair before, but now, he wanted to destroy him. Cloud was his. Sephiroth was supposed to be his one and only friend. Getting replaced by the likes of Zack Fair was unacceptable. Unforgivable.

Besides... Cloud growing close to someone else could ruin all of Sephiroth’s carefully crafted plans.

Their bond hadn’t been strong enough to change the course of their destiny even before, when Sephiroth was the most important person in Cloud’s life, his only friend and confidante, and now that Fair had taken that place, it would surely become even weaker.

This wasn’t jealousy, Sephiroth told himself; Fair was simply getting in the way of his plans. That was the root of his anger.

There was too much at stake here. Sephiroth had to get Cloud away from that man as soon as possible. Or, at the very least, he needed to see Cloud; to remind him of the bond they shared.

Perhaps this situation with Fair wasn’t as big of a deal as Sephiroth was making it out to be. It would surely look different once he’d had a chance to see it with his own eyes.

And since Cloud refused to come to him, Sephiroth decided to take an unprecedented risk and go to him instead. On a day Cloud had told him they would be doing drills in the desert, Sephiroth decided to go there.

With his powers, he opened a portal and used it to transport himself a short distance away from the training grounds. He could already hear the metallic clang of clashing swords, so he picked up the pace and followed it.

Soon, he came upon a large barren field where a few dozen troopers were split into pairs, practicing their sword fighting techniques. Some of them wore helmets, but most did not, since the heat of the desert probably made them unbearable.

Sephiroth quickly scanned the people in front of him; a mop of unruly blond hair was easy to spot in any crowd.

Cloud was taking a break, visibly winded and sweaty, sitting alone on the dusty ground. He looked... he looked good. Something in Sephiroth’s chest constricted at the sight. It had been too long. And although they talked to each other almost every night, it was not the same.

Quickly, Sephiroth headed his way, unable to wait another second. He had no idea what he was going to say, how he was going to explain his presence, but he did not care. If anyone dared to question him, he would simply pretend this was an unscheduled inspection.

Sephiroth was already going through a list of things he was going to say to Cloud when someone appeared out of nowhere and robbed him of that moment.

With a loud, obnoxious laugh, a dark-haired man plopped down next to Cloud and offered him a bottle of water. Casually, like he had every right to do it, he slipped an arm around Cloud and patted his shoulder. Sephiroth waited for Cloud to shrug him off, to yell at him or become uncomfortable... but he did not. 

Fair ruffled Cloud’s hair and whispered something that made him blush, and Sephiroth stood there dumbfounded, acid coursing through his veins. He’d never seen Cloud react like that. He’d never even known Cloud could look like that.

In Sephiroth’s absence, Cloud had turned into someone new, someone he could barely recognize. The person in front of him wasn’t the man he wanted to have at his side, not yet, but it was no longer the boy he’d gotten to know either. This Cloud was something else entirely; something in between, unfamiliar and unknown.

How could there be any version of Cloud he knew nothing about? The mere thought made his stomach roil. He blinked and realized Masamune was already in his hand, summoned by the will of his anger. His fingers tightened around it, and for one blissful second, he imagined storming over there and claiming Fair’s head as a trophy. It would be the only suitable punishment for daring to touch what was his.

But then he saw Cloud smile and shove Fair playfully, laughing at whatever he had said, and Sephiroth knew that if he did this, Cloud would never forgive him. He would never understand the reasons behind Sephiroth’s anger. He might even call him a monster and push him away forever.

No. Sephiroth couldn’t allow that to happen.

He closed his eyes and fought to rein in his anger. The sword dissolved into wisps of smoke, and he clenched his fists instead. He had to leave. For reasons he couldn’t quite explain, he couldn’t bear to watch Cloud with that man for another second. If he stayed here, there would be blood.

Sephiroth spun on his heel and slipped away before anyone saw him.

He spent the next few days drowning in his anger, imagining what else Cloud got up to behind his back. It was driving him crazy. The way Cloud had blushed at Fair’s whispered words was constantly on his mind.

What could Fair have said? What could have made Cloud blush like that?

Even days later, Sephiroth couldn’t let it go. The passage of time only made his anger stronger. He needed to talk to Cloud, but this wasn’t the kind of thing that could be discussed over the phone. They would have to meet, to hell with all the risks. Sephiroth had to make sure their bond was still intact, and he could only do that in person.

At first, Cloud refused, still hung up on the dangers, calling it unwise and too risky, but this time, Sephiroth insisted, and after a while, Cloud finally agreed.

They made plans to meet in a remote motel on the outskirts of Midgar, where no one they knew would run into them.

Cloud entered the motel room beaming at him, expression full of warmth and openness, and something inside Sephiroth snapped.

This was the first time in six months they’d been face to face. Was it nostalgia or possessiveness, he could not say. Yet he kept thinking—if Fair is allowed to touch him, why can’t I?

With that thought, Sephiroth marched over to Cloud, swooped down, and took him into his arms.

This is how it should be, he thought, as his hands slipped around Cloud’s shoulders, gripping tighter and tighter, like a python coiling around its prey.

Cloud gasped, surprised by Sephiroth’s reaction—after all, he’d never held him like this before—but then he haltingly lifted his arms and wrapped them around Sephiroth in return, drawing him closer, burying his face in his chest. There was a slight tremor running through his body, and Sephiroth’s very soul fed on it. Only he should be allowed to hold his puppet like this; to make him tremble so.

“I’ve missed you,” Cloud whispered, his words like a soothing balm to Sephiroth’s anger. He hummed, pressing his nose in Cloud’s hair, but he didn’t say it back.

A few moments later, Cloud pulled away, flushed and smiling, practically radiating with joy. Sephiroth was struck by how beautiful he was. He’d grown so much over the past six months. His former boyish physique was replaced by newly formed muscles, and he now looked like a warrior instead of a child. His cheeks were still a little round, but otherwise, all of that baby fat was gone. He now looked almost exactly like the man Sephiroth remembered. 

The only notable difference was the absence of anger and hatred in his eyes, but Sephiroth refused to analyze why.

Bouncing over to the mini fridge, Cloud grabbed a soda, opened it, and plopped down on the bed.

“So, what have you been up to?”

“You mean to tell me you don’t know?” Sephiroth asked, bluffing. In truth, he had no idea what his other self was currently doing, and he didn’t want to give himself away, thinking that, perhaps, Cloud knew more than he did. And he was right to think so.

Cloud shrugged sheepishly. “People talk about you all the time, as I’m sure you’re aware. But rumors are often wrong, so I’d like to hear it from you.”

“I don’t want to talk about work, Cloud. I want to focus on you. We haven’t seen each other in too long, so let’s forget about everything else while we’re here.”

That sounded disgustingly romantic, but Sephiroth had to make up for lost time. He hadn’t made any progress on his plan in months. Besides, this way, he could avoid talking about things that could expose him.

Cloud did not know any of that, of course, so the words made him blush and look at Sephiroth fondly.

“Sure,” he said softly, patting the space beside him on the bed. “Come sit with me.”

When Sephiroth sat down, Cloud surprised him by leaning into his side and resting his head on his shoulder.

He’d never done anything like that before. In the past, he always got easily flustered by any kind of touch, no matter how innocent. Yet here he was, burrowing into Sephiroth’s side, using him as a makeshift pillow, like it was the most natural thing to do.

Sephiroth glanced down, trying to catch his eyes, but they were closed.

“Are you tired?”

Cloud shook his head, but didn’t move away.

From this distance, Sephiroth could smell his shampoo. It was something fresh and herbal, familiar, reminding him of the springtime back in Nibelheim. He closed his eyes, focusing on it, trying to identify the smell. The wild, unruly spikes tickled his cheek. They seemed so soft, so inviting. Unable to resist, Sephiroth reached out and touched them.

Fair had touched him like this, that day, and it had made him blush.

He wasn’t blushing now, though. A smile appeared on his face instead, followed by a pleased little hum.

What did that mean? Was this reaction better or worse?

Cloud was, as always, such a conundrum. No matter how hard he tried, Sephiroth could not understand him. Cloud’s feelings were a complete mystery to him, and that was driving him crazy. He wanted to shake Cloud’s shoulders and demand answers, to openly ask him what he was doing with Fair, but instead he simply said, “You can sleep if you want,” and Cloud finally raised his head to look at him.

“I told you, I’m not tired.”

“I thought the training was grueling.”

“And I thought we weren’t going to talk about work.”

Sephiroth scoffed. “I just want to know you’re okay.”

“You’re telling me you’re not peeking at my grades, with all the access you have?” Cloud teased.

“I’m not talking about grades. I want to know how you’re feeling. Is the training too hard? Is anyone bothering you?” He hesitated for a second. “Are you making friends?”

Without picking up on the discomfort in Sephiroth’s tone, Cloud answered honestly. “Some days are harder than others, but overall, I’m doing pretty well. And don’t worry, no one’s bothering me. Everyone is too busy trying to stay afloat.” He chuckled. “A bunch of us, like Kunsel and a few others, have been hanging out. So, yeah, I guess I do have friends now. You don’t have to worry about me anymore, Sephiroth.”

Kunsel? Others?!

Sephiroth’s stomach lurched uncomfortably. This was far worse than he’d thought.

“And Zack?” he asked, and this time, his irritation was undeniable. The name came out as a growl, and Cloud looked at him in surprise.

“Well, sure, but you already know I’m friends with Zack.”

“Mm,” he grunted. “And how did that happen?”

Cloud blinked, a little confused by the sudden line of questioning, but he answered anyway.

“Pure chance, really. We’re both from small towns, so that brought us closer. Us country boys gotta to stick together,” he quipped, laughing, but Sephiroth didn’t find it funny. He hated the thought of Zack Fair having something in common with Cloud that he did not. It infuriated him. He glared at his clenched fists, his knuckles white from the force of his grip. His discomfort was so obvious that it became impossible to ignore. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Everything is fine, Cloud.”

“Are you…” Cloud trailed off, and then his hand was on Sephiroth’s, squeezing. He waited for Sephiroth to meet his eyes, and then, in a gentle voice, he said, “You know Zack is never going to replace you, right?”

Sephiroth recoiled as if struck, shocked and humiliated by such an insinuation. How dare Cloud imply that he was—what? Jealous? As if a god like him would ever feel jealous!

Outraged, Sephiroth tried to jump to his feet, to put some distance between them, but Cloud latched onto his arm and refused to let go. His grip was surprisingly strong, but it was shock more than anything that held Sephiroth in place.

“Stop it!” Cloud hissed, scowling now, nothing soft about him anymore. “Do you know what it’s been like having to pretend I don’t know you? Running into you in the hallway and getting ignored?” he demanded. “Looking you in the eye, hoping for the barest hint of acknowledgment, only to get shot down completely?”

“I told you I—”

“Yes, I know!” Cloud snapped. “I know you can’t be seen with me. I get that. But does that mean I’m supposed to be all alone? Am I not allowed to have other friends?”

Sephiroth sneered and looked away.

No, he wanted to say. You're mine and no one else’s.

He seethed in silence until Cloud eventually broke it.

“Don’t be like that,” he pleaded. “I don’t want us to fight. I was really looking forward to seeing you.”

Angry, bitter words bubbled to the tip of Sephiroth’s tongue, threatening to spill over. This rage had been building inside of him for weeks now, and he had so much to say. Viciously, he wanted to attack Cloud for that awful scene he’d witnessed; to accuse him of letting Fair closer than he’d ever allowed Sephiroth to be.

…but he didn’t want to fight, either.

It had been six long months since they’d last seen each other, and if he made Cloud sad the moment he saw him, it would only weaken their bond even further. That could not be allowed to happen. That was the opposite of what Sephiroth was trying to achieve.

And so he swallowed all of that self-righteous anger, and with a heavy sigh, quietly admitted, “So was I.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, both of them tense, but then Cloud reached over once more, his hand reclaiming its place atop Sephiroth’s.

“What do you have against Zack, anyway? I thought you two were friends.”

Were they? All of his memories not immediately connected to Cloud felt vague and distant, unimportant. Fair was among them, so Sephiroth could no longer remember it clearly, but he supposed that was true. From a human perspective, the mutual understanding between him and Fair would probably be viewed as friendship.

Back in the day, Fair had been one of the few people who’d offered him companionship without hoping to gain anything in return. And while Sephiroth had never been particularly fond of him, he’d never had anything against him… until now.

“I told you, I have no friends, Cloud.”

The hand holding his tightened, and Cloud tilted his head to meet his eyes. “You have me,” he said, smiling at him sadly. “You’ll always have me.”

Oh, but if only that were true.

Unfortunately, his countless trips into the future have taught him how fickle feelings could be. Only a few short months from now, Cloud would go back on his word. He would turn his back on Sephiroth and never call him his friend again.

Of course, Sephiroth was here, doing everything in his power to change that outcome, but after so many failures, he no longer believed in such words. It was just sweet lies and platitudes that carried no weight. Even if Cloud meant them in that moment, Sephiroth knew they offered no guarantee; there was no such thing as always or forever.

What infuriated him was that, originally, befriending Cloud had been nothing more than a means to an end, a way to manipulate the boy in order to make the adult Cloud do his bidding in the future… yet something inside him had changed. After experiencing what Cloud’s friendship and affection were truly like, Sephiroth now wanted them to be real. He wanted Cloud to be his only friend, just as much as he wanted to be Cloud’s.

Dark and ugly, possessiveness coiled inside of him. He wanted to chase away all these vultures circling around his treasure.

Cloud elbowed him playfully, drawing Sephiroth’s attention back to him. “You know, whenever I see Zack, he talks about you all the time.”

“Me?” Sephiroth asked, surprised, and Cloud nodded.

“I never told him about us being friends, of course, but he must have noticed me watching you, so he got this crazy idea that I…” Cloud cleared his throat and stammered, pivoting away. “T-that I want to know more about you, so he tells me everything he can think of.”

A flush rose to Cloud’s cheeks, and suddenly, he refused to meet Sephiroth’s eyes. This behavior was new, unexpected. He looked flustered, almost coy… It was as if…

And then Sephiroth remembered where he’d seen this expression before, and it hit him like a bolt of lightning.

This was what Cloud had looked like that day, after Fair had whispered something to him.

“What crazy idea?” he asked thickly, and Cloud pulled away, running his hand through his hair in a nervous gesture.

“Who knows? Zack is so weird sometimes,” he said quickly, too quickly to be considered casual. He’d always been a terrible liar.

Sephiroth stared at him, his mind racing. 

What had Fair been telling him? Had the whispered words that day been about Sephiroth? Had he been the cause of Cloud’s blush?

Perhaps this had never been about Fair at all.

Sephiroth angled his body toward Cloud, lifting one leg onto the bed to face him fully. With two fingers under his chin, he made Cloud look up.

“Tell me… Is he wrong?” he asked softly, wishing to hear Cloud say it.

Say it, he thought. Tell me how you long for me.

“What?” Cloud choked out, blinking rapidly, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. His eyes darted across Sephiroth’s face, fragile and scared. They told Sephiroth everything he needed to know, louder than any words. 

Such fear; such devotion. Cloud was so terrified of losing him, he was practically trembling. It was beautiful to see.

It would be so easy to put him out of his misery; to reassure him and tell him he didn’t mind. To encourage him, even, and move his plan along. But all Sephiroth could focus on was the fact that Cloud’s feelings were still there. Stronger than ever, by the looks of them. They’d become so strong that even strangers like Fair were starting to notice them.

Sephiroth felt deeply smug, his confidence back in full force. Even after so many months of no contact, Cloud still longed for him. He talked about him when he wasn’t there.

A small, involuntary smile tugged on Sephiroth’s lips. His hand slid up, covering Cloud’s cheek, and he reveled in the way it grew warm beneath his palm. Cloud’s eyes widened, fragile and unsure.

“You don’t need Zack Fair to tell you about me, Cloud. You know me better than anyone.”

Cloud searched his eyes, trying to find hidden meanings behind his words, looking almost desperate. He was probably wondering if Sephiroth was encouraging or even answering his feelings.

And perhaps now was the time to take this a step further... to tell Cloud that he loved him, to stake his claim once and for all? He’d wasted enough time already.

But what if he miscalculated? What if the words drove Cloud away, if he wasn’t ready to hear them?

Sephiroth opened his mouth, and closed it. No… the risk was too great. He’d decided long ago that he would match Cloud’s pace; that he would tell him only what he wanted to hear and nothing more. He didn’t want to seem too eager and scare Cloud away.

So, instead, to give Cloud a small taste of his affection without putting too much pressure on him, Sephiroth opted for something simpler and far more innocent—he leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on Cloud’s forehead.

Cloud tensed, a tiny gasp getting stuck in his throat. He held his breath the entire time Sephiroth’s lips were touching his skin, and soon as he moved away, Cloud took a shuddery breath and ducked his head, blushing furiously.

His reactions had always been a joy to watch; Sephiroth had always marveled at them. What came as a surprise was the realization that he enjoyed seeing shyness and happiness on Cloud’s face even more than tears of rage or devastation.

Above all, Sephiroth loved being the one who made Cloud feel things.

Chapter Text

Another six months passed by in a blink.

Cloud was making his way through the ranks, proud of his work as a trooper. These days, he spent a lot of time away on missions, serving as part of an elite group, providing long range support for SOLDIERs. Between his deployments, Sephiroth always found ways to meet him, but even so, they only managed to meet a handful of times over the course of those months.

Being alone was still frustrating and boring and lonely, but Sephiroth didn’t mind it as much now that he knew Cloud’s feelings were as strong as ever. Absence made the heart grow fonder, or so people claimed, and Sephiroth clung to the idea reverently, repeating it constantly, until it was firmly embedded in his mind. It helped him stay patient and focused on his goals, even when all he wanted to do was return to the future and try to reach for Cloud’s hand once more. He reminded himself that he was playing the long game, that this was important, that minor sacrifices and inconveniences were a small price to pay in order to get what he wanted.

Cloud was still friends with Zack Fair, although he didn’t talk about him as much now that he, for some inexplicable reason, got it into his head that Sephiroth was jealous. After their talk, however, Sephiroth no longer had an issue with them being friends. If Fair wanted to play matchmaker and encourage Cloud’s feelings, that was more than fine with Sephiroth. He had no more reasons to drive them apart.

Destiny stayed on its path, unchallenged and unchanged from Sephiroth’s original timeline, and soon, a fateful day arrived—Cloud told him he was going on a mission to Nibelheim.

Apparently, there was an increase in monster activity in the area, so the locals asked Shinra to send someone to check out the reactor, suspecting it was behind it. A small, hand-picked team was chosen for the mission. It was supposed to be simple—in and out, three to four days at most.

The assignment left Cloud with a lot of mixed feelings. He was very excited to finally go on a mission with Sephiroth, and he didn’t hesitate to let him know. He sounded giddy over the PHS, babbling and laughing and making plans. Sephiroth had to remind him—more than once—to be careful and not let anyone know about them being friends.

At the same time, Cloud really dreaded the thought of returning to Nibelheim. Failing to join SOLDIER was a great source of shame for him. Returning to his hometown as a mere trooper was making him anxious, and he was already telling Sephiroth how he didn’t want to let anyone see him.

Vaguely, Sephiroth remembered Cloud hiding his face even in their original timeline, but since troopers were required to wear their helmets on duty, Sephiroth hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. But thinking back… even at the inn, even after he’d given him leave to visit his family, Cloud had never uncovered his face. The shame must have run deep.

And just like that, fiery rage reignited within Sephiroth.

Damn those wretched people and their disgusting little town! After all the physical pain and abuse they’d put his puppet through, they continued to cause him mental anguish even years later.

Cloud had made a name for himself; he was successful and well-respected, yet the opinions of those worthless peasants still mattered to him. Why? Why would he fear their rejection? It was infuriating. It made Sephiroth’s blood boil.

Cloud had no idea, but Sephiroth was counting the days until they all went up in flames.

The revenge would be oh so sweet.

After Cloud had set out to Nibelheim with Zack Fair, that world’s Sephiroth—who probably didn’t even know his name—and another trooper, Sephiroth decided to follow them.

Using his ability to traverse the Lifestream, he transported himself to Nibelheim, straight into the old Shinra Mansion, determined to use this last chance to make Cloud see sense. This time, Sephiroth was convinced it would work. Being back in this horrible town, where he’d spent his entire childhood being bullied, would surely make Cloud come to his senses.

Before, he’d been too young and naïve, unaware of his own strengths and worth. It was natural to defend the only thing he knew, to deny how much he’d suffered, out of sheer stubbornness. Sephiroth had been the same; he’d never considered his childhood in the labs abusive. It was all he’d known, so to him, it had been normal. It was only much later in life, after Mother had opened his eyes, that he’d accepted the truth. And even then, he loathed to admit that he’d suffered, because it meant that he had been weak and stupid enough to allow that to happen to him. It was an admission of weakness.

They had that in common, he and Cloud. They had both been abused by people as children, and it had taken them way too long to admit it and do something about it. But thankfully, he had Sephiroth there to open his eyes.

Sephiroth would help Cloud accept the truth, just as Mother had helped him.

Sephiroth arrived at the mansion late at night, careful not to let anyone see him. He settled back into the room he’d used during his three year long stay in Nibelheim, feeling a pang of nostalgia at the sight of it. It was dusty and unkept after a year of disuse, but everything else was exactly as he’d left it.

The unexpected wave of nostalgia perplexed him; he hadn’t realized how attached he’d gotten to this place, but it was chock-full of memories.

Sephiroth had given Cloud his first makeshift sword—carved out of a piece of wood by Sephiroth himself—right here in this hallway. He’d spent months training Cloud down in the foyer. Most of the furniture still carried the marks to prove it, especially after Cloud had started practicing with materia.

And there, in the corner of this room, was the armchair Cloud would sit in quietly, doing his homework as Sephiroth read.

It felt strange, even unsettling, to have fond memories tied to this place.

Before, there had only been pain, tied to the discoveries Sephiroth had made in the library. But now, he could picture Cloud running around this room, pestering him with questions, his laughter echoing off the walls. They’d spent so many lazy afternoons here, reading, training or simply lost in conversation.

Truth be told, having fond memories of any kind felt strange to Sephiroth. His past used to be filled with nothing but horrors and tragedies. None of his memories were worth reliving, and he tried not to recall them unless they came back to him in the form of nightmares.

Sephiroth couldn’t deny, however, that he’d enjoyed his time here. He would have preferred to have spent it with a grownup Cloud, but the peace and contentment he’d found here had stayed with him, and even now he remembered them fondly.

The memories brought a peculiar sense of longing he’d never experienced before.

This was not the time to reminisce, though. There was precious little of it left. It was spilling like sand from a broken hourglass, racing relentlessly to the moment when their bond would be put to the ultimate test.

One week from now, Nibelheim would burn and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

Afterwards, Cloud would never look at him the same way again. Sephiroth knew this and accepted it; that much was unavoidable. But one question remained—was their bond strong enough for Cloud to eventually forgive him?

Of course, it was still not too late for Sephiroth to change his mind and stop Nibelheim from getting destroyed. It would be easy enough to accomplish. He could simply burn down the library and prevent his other self from ever finding out the truth. Doing so would keep him away from the path of destruction and no one would need to die.

But Sephiroth didn’t want to do that. He still firmly believed he’d done nothing wrong; his actions had always been warranted.

So, instead of changing that part of their past, he knew that he had to change the future by making Cloud see things from his perspective. And now was his chance. Everything had been building up to this moment: here, in Nibelheim, where it had all started, they would finally talk, and he would make Cloud see.

Over the years, Sephiroth had seen how ruthless Cloud could be. Mostly toward Sephiroth himself, but it nevertheless proved that he possessed the capacity for such intense anger and hatred. All it would take was a little nudge, a little encouragement, to channel that resentment where it rightly belonged. And now that Cloud had come to trust Sephiroth so completely, he would surely take his advice.

Sephiroth arrived in Nibelheim a few days before the others, and the wait was excruciating. Resisting the urge to go down to the library, to look at those books once more, was unspeakably difficult. It didn’t help that Sephiroth had nothing to distract him. He couldn’t even hear Mother’s voice anymore, and that unnerved him.

Perhaps, since he was from the future, Sephiroth no longer had that kind of connection to Mother, here, in this timeline? Or perhaps, having already become a god, Mother had nothing left to say to him.

Whatever the reason, the absence of her in his mind troubled him a little. It made him feel empty and bereft, but at the same time, he found himself far more concerned about Cloud. The conversation they needed to have weighed heavily on Sephiroth’s mind, and he could think of little else. Besides, the only one he found himself drawn to these days was Cloud, and not Mother. The string of destiny tying them together felt stronger than any other bond in Sephiroth’s life. 

As soon as Cloud arrived in Nibelheim, Sephiroth sent him a message and asked him to meet him at the mansion. Time was running out, and he didn’t want to waste any more of it.

And so, later that night, when the moon was high and most of the town had fallen into slumber, Cloud snuck out of the inn and crept toward the mansion unseen.

It was their first night in Nibelheim, so there was no danger of Cloud running into Sephiroth’s other self at the mansion. That man was still at the inn, spending the night awake, staring up at the mountain, feeling as if something was calling out to him. At that point, he hadn’t yet heard Mother’s voice. There was only an inexplicable pull he couldn’t put a name to.

It didn’t take long for Cloud to reach him. He stood in the foyer, flushed and breathless, as if he’d run all the way there. So eager to reach him; Sephiroth smiled.

“How are you here already?” Cloud asked, gasping. “When I snuck out, you were still standing there in the hallway! How’d you get here before me?”

Sephiroth smirked and offered a little shrug. “I’m just that fast.”

“Ugh.” Cloud rolled his eyes and shook his head, but he was smiling. “Anyway, I thought you said meeting up would be too risky.”

“Back in town, where people could see us? Absolutely. But no one comes here at night.” Sephiroth leaned against the wall and added in a mock whisper, “This place is haunted, haven’t you heard?”

Cloud threw his head back and laughed, relaxed and happy. “I can’t believe I actually believed that as a kid.”

Sephiroth chuckled. “You’ve grown older and wiser.”

Cloud snorted. “Not sure about wiser, but I’m certainly older. It’s hard to believe so much time has passed,” he said, looking around with a fond, nostalgic expression. He trailed his fingers along the wall, picking at the peeling wallpaper. “I miss this place. We had so much fun here.”

“We did,” Sephiroth agreed. “It’s nice to be back here, though I can’t say the same about the town itself.”

“Oh, I don’t know. It wasn’t so bad,” Cloud said easily, still smiling, completely unaware of the effect his words had on Sephiroth.

Anger and frustration exploded inside of him, making his temper flare.

“Not bad?” Sephiroth repeated. “Are you serious? Don’t you remember what you went through?”

“I mean, yeah… But it was just kid stuff. I didn’t fit in, so…” Cloud shrugged, completely unbothered, and the very last thread of Sephiroth’s patience snapped.

“Have you no self-respect?” Sephiroth hissed, hands shaking with rage.

Why was Cloud still making excuses for those people? Even worse, why was he still finding ways to blame their actions on himself? How could he do that, even now?

Cloud stared at him in shock, stunned by his outburst.

Come to think of it, Cloud had never seen him this angry. Sephiroth had always made sure to keep his composure around him, only speaking in soft tones, gently nudging him toward the truth, showing infinite patience and grace.

But he was keenly aware that this was probably his last chance to talk some sense into Cloud. On top of that, he was beyond fed up with Cloud’s constant refusal to see those people for what they were.

“It’s not about self-respect… You just have to understand, most of those people have never left Nibelheim,” Cloud explained softly, as if that justified it. “This town, its traditions and beliefs, are all they know. Some of them hated me when I was a kid, and yeah, they were downright cruel, but I don’t think that makes them bad people. They just didn’t know any better.”

“Come off it, Cloud! They wouldn’t even sell you food. They made your mother grow her own vegetables and bake her own bread. Doesn’t that make you angry?” Cloud’s lips pressed into a thin line, his expression turning sour, but he said nothing. Which was a good thing, because Sephiroth wasn’t done. “And those kids—they didn’t simply shun you or call you names. They beat you, regularly! On the day we met, I found you black and blue, bleeding in the woods.”

“I remember!” Cloud snapped. He folded his arms over his chest and looked away, clearly uncomfortable with this conversation. And no wonder. Sephiroth had attacked him out of nowhere, which hadn’t been the plan at all. He was going to be tactful and patient, but instead he’d flown into a rage. This was all wrong.

With a deep breath, Sephiroth tried to rein in his anger and regain some semblance of calm.

“Do you think that’s normal, Cloud? Do you think anything—anything at all—can justify that?” Sephiroth demanded. “How can you say they’re not bad people, after everything they did to you?”

Sephiroth, of course, was the last person who should be saying any of this. Especially to Cloud. After all, he fully expected Cloud to forgive him for what he was about to do. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him, but the way Sephiroth saw it, he was the only one allowed to hurt Cloud. He was important and special enough that Cloud was supposed to forgive him even for something of that magnitude. Sephiroth was one of a kind, and Cloud was his beloved puppet. The rules of human relationships did not apply to them. Everyone else deserved a swift punishment.

“I don’t know, Sephiroth. Maybe you’re right. Maybe they’re all terrible and I should hate them for what they did to me, but I just don’t have it in me,” Cloud said with a heavy sigh. “After all, what good would that do? My hatred wouldn’t hurt them. I’d only end up hurting myself with all that anger and negativity. They wouldn’t give a shit either way.”

“But what if it could?” Sephiroth asked, sounding almost desperate even to his own ears. 

“What if it could what?”

“What if it could hurt them, Cloud? If you could make them pay for everything they did to you… wouldn’t you?”

Cloud frowned at him, looking lost. “Where’s all this coming from?”

“I know you’d never actually hurt anyone, but haven’t you ever imagined, even for a second, making them suffer the way they made you suffer? Taking your revenge by razing this town to the ground?”

Sephiroth held his breath. This was the moment of truth. He’d shown Cloud the darkness hiding inside his heart, hoping to see it reflected and returned.

But instead, Cloud’s eyes grew huge, shocked and… terrified.

He inched backwards, shaking his head, and with a sinking feeling, Sephiroth realized that Cloud truly hadn’t considered this—ever. Despite all the pain and trauma those people had put him through, he’d never imagined, even in the darkest corners of his mind, making them suffer.

How was that even possible?

And yet… Sephiroth could no longer deny the truth staring him in the face.

He’d set out to find the darkness hiding inside Cloud, spent years nurturing it and helping it grow, only to discover it had never been there at all.

A lump formed in Sephiroth’s throat, and he struggled to swallow, hands shaking with fury and disappointment.

He’d convinced himself they were the same, ignoring all the signs that had told him otherwise, certain that Cloud was simply fighting his darkest impulses. But no… Cloud wasn’t fighting or suppressing anything. He genuinely held no grudge. Somehow, he’d forgiven those people.

But how?

The revelation made Sephiroth feel completely abandoned, lonelier than ever. The only person in the world who was supposed to understand him was looking at him with fear and suspicion in his eyes. His beloved puppet, who was supposed to be his mirror image, who’d gone through such similar traumas and pain… Even he couldn’t understand him. Even he could only see him as a monster.

Vicious anger exploded inside Sephiroth. Suddenly, he wanted to take control of Cloud’s mind and force him to destroy Nibelheim himself. Maybe then he would finally understand. Or maybe, if he had the same blood on his hands, he would at least no longer be in the position to judge Sephiroth for what he’d done.

The look in Cloud’s eyes was making Sephiroth sick to his stomach. He’d never looked at him like that before. Even the adult Cloud, who used to hate him and wanted to see him dead, had never looked at him like that. What was especially painful, almost devastating, was that there was no anger in this Cloud’s eyes. He was just horrified and… scared.

Sephiroth had seen countless emotions in those expressive blue eyes, but fear had never been one of them. It infuriated him. Even after everything they’d been through, it had taken so little for Cloud to turn on him.

Those people would pay for this! How dare they come between him and his puppet? Sephiroth was now more determined than ever to make them suffer.

“Never mind, forget that I asked,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

This… this changed everything. It ruined all of Sephiroth’s plans.

If Cloud couldn’t see things from his perspective at all, did that mean they were doomed to stay stuck in this cycle of violence forever? Was there no hope of Cloud taking his hand?

Suddenly, Cloud reached for him, startling him. His fingers were gentle and warm as they wrapped around Sephiroth’s. The touch made his eyes snap up to meet Cloud’s.

The fear was gone, leaving only determination and sadness.

“Hey… I get it,” he whispered. He unfurled Sephiroth’s clenched fist and linked their fingers together. Sephiroth looked down at their joined hands.

No, Cloud, you don’t get it at all, he wanted to say, but he said nothing. 

“Thank you for getting angry on my behalf,” Cloud added and squeezed his hand.

He must have convinced himself that Sephiroth was simply being protective, hating those people on his behalf.

That wasn’t true, of course. Sephiroth had hated them long before he’d even learned Cloud’s name. All of his reasons were purely selfish, and they all stemmed from the fact that he’d hated being used. 

At the time, the deaths of those particular people had held no special significance for him. Nibelheim had been just another backwater town. The same thing could have happened anywhere else, had Sephiroth found himself there in the moment his rage had boiled over.

But now, destroying Nibelheim was a matter of principle.

Sephiroth refused to back down, because he wanted Cloud to accept his decision. It was a final test of his loyalty. Cloud’s forgiveness would prove the depth of his feelings, and that was necessary because Sephiroth didn’t want him to care for this fake, manufactured idea of him, with no flaws or sins. It was easy to love someone like that. What he wanted was for Cloud to accept him, to acknowledge that he’d done it, and love him anyway.

This idea became an obsession.

Destroying Nibelheim wasn’t even about revenge anymore. It was all about Cloud accepting him, flaws and all.

“I wish you would see your worth, Cloud. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

With his free hand, Sephiroth cupped Cloud’s cheek, making his breath hitch. His earlier anger was all gone, and all that remained was possessiveness. His precious puppet belong to him, whether he realized it or not, and Sephiroth would never allow anyone to touch what was his.

A light flush crept across Cloud's face as his fingers tightened around Sephiroth’s. There were so many emotions in his eyes... Sephiroth could never hope to untangle and uncover them all.

“How do you see me?” he asked in a whisper, something small and fragile in his voice.

Fascinated, Sephiroth couldn’t look away from his eyes, marveling at the wealth of emotion inside them. They looked gorgeous when Cloud was angry, but like this—open and pure, like a vast blue ocean, full of longing and affection, they were infinitely more beautiful. Almost ethereal.

An unfamiliar ache settled in Sephiroth's chest; a yearning he couldn’t comprehend. He leaned in, answering its call, as if pulled by the invisible red string of fate, so close now that he could feel Cloud’s breaths on his face.

“You are worth more than everyone else in this town put together,” he whispered.

Was it a lie? A last ditch effort to lure Cloud into his grasp? No… he meant it. His precious puppet was more important than anything else in this world. He was the only one who mattered, even if he couldn’t see his own worth.

Cloud gasped softly at those words, eyes shiny and bright, nearly overflowing. They were pale blue, without even a trace of mako in them, but they were no less stunning because of it.

His trembling hand, warm and gentle, covered Sephiroth’s on his cheek and drew it down, down, down, moving it toward his lips. There was nothing in that moment that could have forced Sephiroth to look away as Cloud’s lips connected with his skin, pressing softly against his pulse point, making his heart rate skyrocket.

Sephiroth hadn’t planned this. His plan had been simple—make Cloud fall in love with him, so that, back in their own timeline, those feelings would lead him back to Sephiroth. Not this. Not now.

But as Cloud inched closer, Sephiroth did nothing to stop him. He licked his lips and waited, mesmerized.

And then Cloud was kissing him, surging up, bumping his nose into Sephiroth’s cheek clumsily as he joined their lips in the softest, most delicate kiss imaginable.

It was nothing like Sephiroth had imagined kissing Cloud would be like.

On those rare occasions when he’d allowed himself to think about it at all, he’d always pictured the word-weary, hardened Cloud crushing their mouths together, biting and growling and fighting for dominance.

Not… this.

Sephiroth groaned, scooping up Cloud’s slight frame and drawing him closer, as close as they could possibly be without Cloud falling into his lap. Those warm, pliant lips were impossibly soft, trembling against Sephiroth’s as he kissed them. He trailed his tongue over that enticing bottom lip, making Cloud gasp, and as soon as he opened his mouth, Sephiroth deepened the kiss.

Heat exploded through his body. He’d never imagined anything could feel this good. One of his hands slid to the back of Cloud’s neck, pulling him even closer, ready to devour him.

Cloud was openly moaning now, arching against him, clambering onto his lap. And Sephiroth let him. There was nothing in the world he would have denied Cloud in that moment.

The signs of Cloud’s interest had been obvious for a while now; Sephiroth had noticed them, of course, but he’d never expected Cloud to actually act on them. To be bold enough to make the first move. At best, he’d expected Cloud to confess his feelings, blushing all the while.

But, as ever, Cloud was full of surprises. Sephiroth should really learn not to underestimate him, because this… This was divine. Pure heat and joy came in the shape of that lithe blond form undulating against him.

Sephiroth wrapped his arms around Cloud’s waist, tugging him even closer, pressing their bodies flush together. Cloud moaned into his mouth helplessly, unaware that he was even doing it.

The tension between them grew and grew until it finally snapped. Cloud jerked back, panting, looking shocked by his own actions.

“Sorry,” he gasped out, embarrassed and wide-eyed. He looked delectable. Sephiroth struggled not to pounce on him right then and there. He licked his lips, still tasting of Cloud.

“I wasn’t complaining,” he murmured, rubbing his thumbs over Cloud’s hipbones possessively, and pulled him in for another kiss.

This one was even more dizzying than the first because it was not unexpected; because Sephiroth was the one in control.

He reveled at the way Cloud’s smaller body fit against his own, at the way his hands clutched at his back desperately, trembling and pulling him closer. He growled, lust and possessiveness nearly blinding him.

More than anything, Sephiroth wanted to give in to these feelings. Kissing Cloud felt amazing, and he was loath to stop now that he knew how good it could feel.

But he had to be rational about this.

In less than a day, his other self would lock himself away in the library, reading obsessively, refusing to see anyone. If Sephiroth allowed something to happen between them now, then ignored Cloud immediately after, he would surely break his heart. And once he destroyed Nibelheim a week later, there would be no going back from that. Cloud would never forgive him.

Sephiroth’s hands moved up Cloud’s body, settling on the back of his neck, caressing the soft hairs there, making him shiver. The hunger in Cloud’s eyes was intoxicating. Like the most potent drug, it pulled Sephiroth closer, overloading his senses, clouding his mind.

He leaned in and kissed Cloud again, obsessed with the taste of him.

The softest lips he’d ever known moved against his own, making his skin prickle with electricity.

When they parted again, Sephiroth tried to stay away, to resist, but he couldn’t. Just one more taste, he told himself. Just one. Then another, and another… turning into one more.

There was no telling how long they spent there, kissing, arms roaming over each other’s bodies.

When Sephiroth opened his eyes and met Cloud’s, the young man gasped, breaking the kiss. He stared at Sephiroth in wonder, at his eyes in particular, so he could only assume his pupils were just as blown as Cloud’s own.

This… was not good. He was finding it harder and harder to stop. It was downright impossible.

In that moment, he wanted Cloud more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. And it didn’t help knowing that all he had to do was reach out and take him. Cloud, very clearly, wanted this as much as he did.

Sephiroth closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, reminding himself of everything he was trying to accomplish. Everything he’d worked so hard for. There was too much at stake here.

Sephiroth may have failed that day, but that didn’t mean he’d given up on his plan. He and Cloud may not be as similar as he’d hoped, but their bond was strong enough to make them overcome their differences. After all, Cloud was here in his arms, kissing him, without a care in the world, despite being so scared of him earlier. It proved that Cloud would always gravitate toward him, no matter what he did, and that gave him hope anew. It made him certain that, come what may, Cloud would eventually forgive him and end up at his side. 

And that was what mattered. One passionate night with Cloud would never be enough. Their bright future was far more important.

Gently, Sephiroth took Cloud by the shoulders and eased him away.

“You should head back,” he said. He cleared his throat, surprised at how husky his voice had gotten.

Cloud stayed still for a moment, searching his eyes, looking uncertain and almost disappointed, but then he nodded and got up to leave. He bit his lip, unable to stop staring at Sephiroth’s mouth, and it didn’t take a genius to guess what was on his mind. Answering his silent plea, Sephiroth placed one last, lingering kiss on those delicious lips before moving away.

“We mustn’t be seen together, so you head back first.”

Cloud nodded and adjusted his clothes, which had been messed up by Sephiroth’s wandering hands. At the door, he paused, tuning back to look at Sephiroth uncertainly.

“Will we ever stop hiding? Will we ever…” He faltered and shook his head. “Never mind.”

A week from now, everything would change. It was impossible to predict what the future would bring, but after tonight, Sephiroth knew he had to have this. Having Cloud at his side as a companion, a friend, or even a willing thrall, would no longer be enough to satisfy him. He wanted Cloud in every sense of the word.

And so he marched over to him and cupped his face in his hands as he vowed, “I will find a way, Cloud. I won’t let anything stand between us.”

And then he kissed him again.

Chapter Text

Three days later, Cloud burst back into the room with a frantic look on his face.

“There you are!” he exclaimed, rushing to Sephiroth’s side.

“Where else would I be, Cloud?”

“I don’t know! Zack said something about a library... But there’s no library in this place, is there?”

Sephiroth arched an eyebrow. “You know there isn’t.” He pointed at the handful of books resting by his bedside. “Perhaps Zack got a little confused seeing so many books in one place.”

Cloud looked at him dubiously. There were no more than five or six books there; no one in their right mind would call that a library. And yet… slowly, he nodded, accepting Sephiroth’s ridiculous explanation. He trusted him more than his friend; he trusted him more than his own eyes. Sephiroth fought back a smirk.

“I don’t know what he told you, but I’ve been here the whole time.”

“I called you so many times. Why didn’t you pick up?”

“I needed some time to myself. I still do.”

“Why?” Cloud asked, moving closer, kneeling by the armchair Sephiroth was sitting in. When Sephiroth said nothing, he reached for his hand. “Hey... What’s wrong? You haven’t been the same since the reactor. What happened to you in there?”

Sephiroth had spent a lot of time considering how to handle this, coming up with plans and contingencies, but at that moment, they all fell by the wayside. Seeing such devotion and concern on Cloud’s face made him greedy; it made him want so much more. And what he wanted more than anything was for Cloud to understand him. The real him.

Imparting a small fraction of the truth couldn’t possibly hurt... could it?

“We discovered some experiments... Monsters, created by Hojo. They made me wonder about my own origins.”

“Oh, Sephiroth,” Cloud whispered, squeezing his hand once before surging up and climbing into his lap. Without hesitation, he embraced him, wrapping his limbs around Sephiroth, burying his nose in the crook of his neck.

How… strange. No one had ever tried to comfort him before.

Was this pity?

Sephiroth froze, indignation rising within him, unable to decide whether to return the embrace or push Cloud away.

But when Cloud raised his head and faced him, there was no pity in his eyes, only concern and affection. Love.

“Come here,” Cloud murmured and wrapped his arms around Sephiroth’s neck, pulling him in, making the decision for him. Slowly, reluctantly, Sephiroth accepted the embrace.

Cloud’s arms were warm and welcoming, holding him tightly, anchoring him to this moment. Without even knowing what was troubling him, Cloud was selflessly offering comfort, trying to make him feel better. No one had ever cared about him the way Cloud did; his devotion was incredibly precious and Sephiroth wanted to guard it with his life.

He held on tightly, closing his eyes, wishing he could stay in this moment forever, keeping Cloud in his arms for the rest of his life. For the rest of eternity, if Cloud finally agreed to join him. They could travel the cosmos, roaming between the stars, with nothing but each other for company. Nothing would ever come between them again, if only Cloud would see sense and accept his offer.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Cloud murmured before pulling back just far enough to look him in the eye. With a playful smile, he added, “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” echoing Sephiroth’s words from a few days ago, making him smile in turn.

“How do you see me?” Sephiroth asked, playing along, while at the same time genuinely curious to hear the answer.

“You’re the farthest thing from a monster,” Cloud said fondly, but the words pierced Sephiroth like a knife, embedding in his chest. “I know you’d never hurt anyone,” he added, twisting the knife even deeper.

Sephiroth clenched his teeth and looked away.

Cloud settled back against his chest, embracing him warmly, but after what he’d just said, his weight became a heavy burden, a deadweight pulling Sephiroth under, threatening to drown him.

All of that love, all of that concern... was not for him. It was for this man, this... persona he’d created to manipulate Cloud. And, apparently, he’d a done a great job of it. He’d played his role a little too well and made Cloud fall in love with it. Which had always been the plan... And yet... It bothered Sephiroth now in ways he couldn’t quite explain. He hated that Cloud knew nothing about the real him. It made him almost... jealous... that Cloud loved this guise instead of him.

Worse yet, if he believed Sephiroth wasn’t a monster simply because he wouldn’t hurt anyone... Did the fact that Sephiroth had killed so many prove that he was, in fact, a monster? And that Cloud would see him as one?

Cloud leaned in to kiss him, but Sephiroth gripped his shoulders and kept him away.

This was all a lie.

It was all fake, manufactured, based on deceptions and manipulations.

Believing himself untouchable, Sephiroth had played with fire, but then he got burned.

He’d never expected trying to manipulate Cloud would lead to so much pain. He’d never expected he would grow so attached, or that Cloud’s opinion would come to matter so much to him. 

And yet... it shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

As a child, naive and full of baseless optimism, Sephiroth used to dream that, one day, he would lead a normal life, with a family and a simple, peaceful existence. Away from painful procedures, Hojo’s scalpels and needles, and all that death on the battlefield. He used to carry Mother’s picture, searching for her far and wide, believing he would find peace at her side.

In the end, when he’d finally found her, the discovery had led to even more death, because even Mother had only needed him for his skill with the blade. Eventually, Sephiroth had stopped hoping. He seemed destined for a life of violence, and he’d come to terms with it.

Until Cloud came along; until he discovered that there could be so much more to life than just pain.

Staying by Cloud’s side, as his friend, as his companion, Sephiroth found everything he’d spent his whole life searching for. Acceptance. Family. Love.

Without even realizing it, he’d grown accustomed to having it there.

So being reminded that it was nothing but a lie of his own making, that Cloud only cared for him because he didn’t truly know him, hurt more than death itself.

Pushing Cloud away, Sephiroth rose to his feet. His hands were shaking, so he clenched them into fists.

“Leave me be, Cloud. I need to be alone for a few days.”

Cloud touched his face, searching his eyes. His hands were gentle, as always, but to Sephiroth they felt like hot coals against his cheek, scalding him, scarring him.

“If you change your mind, I’ll be here,” Cloud told him. “Any time, Sephiroth. I’m only a call away.”

What would have happened, Sephiroth wondered, if Cloud had been there when he’d first learned the truth of his origins. Could he have talked him off the ledge?

Probably not, if he were being honest. His rage had been so intense and all-consuming that nothing short of bloodshed could have quenched it. No amount of love or comfort, no soothing words could have doused the flames of his fury.

These days, it was different, however. Sephiroth was no longer angry, though his goals remained the same.

Nibelheim would burn.

Masks would fall.

And in the aftermath, Sephiroth would finally see how Cloud truly felt about him.

Sephiroth was too restless to sleep.

He stood by a large, dirty window, looking out in the direction of the town. The mansion was too far away, too deep in the forest for him to see anything, but that didn’t stop Sephiroth from looking, because tonight was a very special night.

Tonight, their lives would change forever.

Soon, his other self would go on a rampage, taking out his revenge on the people of this town, setting in motion events that would shape their destinies for years to come.

This was supposed to be a glorious moment worthy of celebration. For years, Sephiroth had gleefully awaited the destruction of Nibelheim. Yet now that it was here, instead of excitement and anticipation, there was only dread in the pit of his stomach; fear at the thought of losing Cloud forever.

Somewhere along the way, something had gone terribly awry. Instead of tricking Cloud into falling in love with him and using those feelings to manipulate him, Sephiroth had stupidly allowed himself to develop feelings of his own, and now he found himself questioning his actions, spending his nights awake, fearing what tomorrow may bring.

This was a terrible mistake. One that could make him lose everything.

It got to the point that he was second-guessing himself, wishing he could change things that should never be changed. He wanted to go out there and stop that wretched town from getting destroyed… all because he didn’t want to see Cloud hurt.

Like an utter fool, Sephiroth had become enthralled and easily swayed by Cloud’s wishes. But no matter how tempting it was, he would never act on them! He would never allow anyone to have that kind of hold over him again.

So he squashed those pathetic feelings of weakness and redoubled his efforts, reminding himself that this was to be a test of Cloud’s loyalty. It would show, once and for all, if Cloud was willing to accept his darkness.

But perhaps there was one thing Sephiroth could change… One small concession he could make for Cloud, as a sign of good will; a testament of how much he cared.

Killing Claudia Strife had never been one of his goals. She wasn’t like the others. She’d never asked anything of him, or tried to use him for her own personal gain. In fact, it was rather the opposite. Since he and Cloud had become friends, she’d repeatedly welcomed him into her home, despite her initial reluctance and suspicion.

Even after learning his true identity, Claudia had never asked for favors. Not even something small, like asking him to have a chat with the vendors who refused to serve her.

No… Claudia Strife wasn’t like the others. He had no reason to insist on taking her life again, especially when sparing it could make a huge difference in how Cloud perceived him.

This wasn’t a sign of weakness, Sephiroth told himself firmly. It wasn’t him changing his mind. He was simply being pragmatic and ensuring he would get to keep the thing he wanted most: Cloud.

Decision made, Sephiroth headed into town, determined to reach Claudia before it was too late.

It was past midnight, still hours before dawn, yet the sky burned red. At a glance, it looked like the most beautiful, romantic sunset on a warm summer’s day. The scene was almost idyllic, if not for the acrid smell of burning wood and human flesh carried on the breeze.

Approaching the town, Sephiroth felt the air grow impossibly hot, filled with swirling ash and embers. In the distance, he could hear people screaming and pleading for help. Repeatedly, he heard cries of his own name. Some were begging for him to stop, while others used their last breaths to curse him and wish him eternal damnation.

Most of Sephiroth’s memories of that night were hazy, like a strange dream or nightmare. He’d been so consumed by rage that he’d lost awareness of his own actions.

Some things had stuck with him, though, carved into his mind forever.

He remembered how satisfying it had been to kill the mayor, that sleazy old man who’d fawned over him since the moment he’d arrived in Nibelheim. Yet, later, when Sephiroth’s world had fallen apart right in front of him, he’d been the first to complain and curse him for not doing his job quickly enough.

If he closed his eyes, even now, he could picture it. He could remember how good it had felt to drive his sword through the man’s flesh, hearing him gasp wetly, gurgling and choking on his own blood, before crumpling to the ground, lifeless.

It was a shame Sephiroth wouldn’t get a chance to experience it again.

By the time he reached the town, most of the noise had died down already. The streets were covered in blood. Sephiroth had to step over corpses to make his way through. Children were among them, too, he noted with indifference. He couldn’t remember killing them, but after the way they’d treated Cloud, it pleased him to know he’d been the one who’d killed them.

Many houses were on fire, and the harsh wind was making it spread quickly, consuming more and more of the town with each passing second. If he wanted to save Claudia, he would have to hurry, because soon, there would be nothing left to save.

Luckily, after spending so much time in Nibelheim, Sephiroth knew these streets like the back of his hand. It was easy to avoid the main square, take a shortcut, passing through people’s backyards, and enter the Strife family home from the back.

The fire was already starting to spread across Claudia’s garden. Soon, it would reach the house.

The vegetables and herbs she’d spent years cultivating were all singed and covered in soot. By the end of the night, nothing would remain.

Without bothering to knock, Sephiroth barged into the house, throwing the door open with a bang.

For a few seconds, it appeared to be empty, but then he saw Claudia huddling in the corner, clutching a knife between trembling hands, holding it up for protection. It was ridiculous of her to think that it could save her. She was far more likely to hurt herself with it.

“You!” she hissed angrily, pronouncing the word like a curse. Her eyes held a level of rage and disgust that could put her son to shame. “From the moment I saw you, I knew there was something off about you! I knew, but… you were so kind to my boy, so I kept telling myself I was wrong. That I’d misjudged you.” She swallowed audibly, nearly choking on the smoke and the intensity of her emotions. “But you…”

She trailed off as she looked out the window, taking in the magnitude of the horror in the streets. There were mutilated bodies everywhere, the cobblestones soaked with their blood.

“You’re a monster,” she choked out, her voice trembling.

And there it was. That word. Sooner or later, it always came down to that.

That part was expected. But Claudia’s admission that she’d faked all of her kindness and friendliness actually stung. How hadn’t he noticed her duplicity? He’d been so certain that she’d grown to like and even trust him, but she’d only pretended.

What if Cloud was also pretending?

That thought hurt more than Sephiroth would ever admit, so he squashed it viciously, shoving it out of his mind.

“There is no time. You must come with me, now.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you! I just saw you murder all of my neighbors! If you’re going to kill me, do it right here. In this house, where I welcomed you and fed you and treated you like family!”

Sephiroth snorted. “Some family that was. You just said you never even liked me.”

“And for good reason! Look at what you did to my neighbors!”

“Oh no, your poor neighbors,” Sephiroth drawled. “You mean the people who’ve shunned you for years? Who’ve bullied and ostracized your son when he was but a child?”

Claudia blinked, as if only just remembering that her son was also supposed to be in town. With an edge of hysteria in her voice, she asked, “Cloud… What have you done to Cloud?”

She looked around, as if expecting to see Cloud’s dismembered body behind Sephiroth. But there was no one there; they we alone. She repeated her question, urgent and desperate, and when Sephiroth refused to answer, she let out a shrill cry and charged at him, brandishing the knife.

She couldn’t have believed she stood a chance against him, a legendary SOLDIER, especially not with such a pathetic excuse for a weapon.

Perhaps she simply didn’t want to go down without a fight, or perhaps this was her way of ending it all, if she truly believed Cloud to be dead. The way human minds worked had always perplexed Sephiroth, and he’d long since stopped trying to understand them.

She was lucky it wasn’t his intention to hurt her.

He sidestepped her attack and shoved her away. Slapping her wrist was enough to disarm her, and the knife cluttered to the floor, useless. She gasped, clutching her hand to her chest, and Sephiroth rolled his eyes. He’d barely even touched her; there was no way the slap had hurt so much.

“Stop being difficult. I’m trying to save your life,” he growled, running out of patience. There was no time for her hysterics. If they stayed here, he might come face to face with his other self, and then he would have an actual fight on his hands.

“I don’t believe you! I saw what you did.” She cast another glance through the window. “If you were here to save me, Cloud would be with you. Oh, Cloud... my baby,” she sobbed and charged at him again, this time with nothing but her bare hands.

She was either incredibly brave or insanely stupid.

Either way, there was no time for this.

Without even bothering to call on his sword, Sephiroth activated a Sleep materia and watched Claudia freeze mid-step before going completely limp and collapsing onto the floor. He didn’t try to break her fall. He watched with sadistic glee as she crashed violently onto the thin carpet. It was a small price to pay for her insolence.

With a huff, irritated and put-upon, Sephiroth stood over her immobilized body. They could have walked out of there together, like civilized people, but she just had to make it difficult. Like mother, like son.

In one smooth motion, he hauled her off the floor and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Cloud probably wouldn’t be happy to see his mother treated this way, but it was her own damn fault. She was lucky Sephiroth had decided to spare her. Especially after what she’d said to him.

He headed back the way he came, through Claudia’s garden, determined to avoid the bloodshed and the man behind it all. It seemed like it was mostly over, however. Silence reigned supreme all over town, with no living soul left to tell the tale.

He’d almost made it to the edge of the town when he was intercepted.

“Let go of her!”

Sephiroth’s eyes snapped up, and there Cloud stood, shaking like a leaf, a look of utter devastation upon his face.

The fire cast his face in red and orange hues as the houses burned all around them.

“Cloud...”

“Let her go!” he demanded and grabbed his weapon. He didn’t even have a sword, just a standard-issue Shinra military rifle. For someone enhanced like Sephiroth, that weapon was like a toy. Even if Cloud were to shoot him point-blank, it wouldn’t hurt him.

Cloud probably knew it, too, but he still raised the rifle with unsteady hands, eyes brimming with tears.

“Do you actually think I would hurt your mother, Cloud?” Sephiroth asked bitterly. He’d gone through all that trouble in order to save her, and this was the thanks he got!

“Sephiroth... I saw you! I saw you kill all those people!” Cloud exclaimed, his voice cracking.

“Don’t feel bad for them, Cloud. They were parasites, every last one of them. They hurt you in so many ways.”

“Me? What does this have to do with me?” Horror spread across Cloud’s face. “Is that why you did it?”

“I did it because it needed to happen.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? You’re not making any sense!”

“They hurt us both, Cloud. They had to pay for that.”

“You...” Cloud shook his head, gaping at him in disbelief. “What you did tonight hurt me more than anything they’ve ever done!”

Sephiroth glowered at him, hiding the pain he was feeling. The words cut deep, but the hurt was quickly replaced by white-hot, blinding fury.

“You were so quick to forgive them, no matter what they did. Yet, here you are, looking at me with disgust. I seem to be the only one you have no forgiveness for!”

“Are you actually trying to compare some roughhousing between kids with slaughtering an entire town?!”

“Roughhousing?” Sephiroth sneered. “If that’s what you want to call it, then you can say I was simply cleaning out the trash.”

“Trash? Those are human lives you’re talking about! People… with families. Not trash!”

Fed up and furious, Sephiroth placed Claudia’s unconscious body down on the ground and advanced on Cloud. Stumbling backward, Cloud raised his weapon once more, pointing it at Sephiroth's chest, but that only annoyed him even further. He grabbed Cloud’s wrist angrily and forced the rifle out of the way before seizing his throat.

“I told you,” Sephiroth growled. “You’re the only one in this damn town who matters. What the hell did you think that meant? They all had to pay for what they did to you.”

Cloud’s mouth opened and closed a few times, tears falling down his cheeks. “There’s something seriously wrong with you,” he whispered. Sephiroth growled and shoved him away, furious at himself for letting those words hurt him.

At least he finally had his answer. This was what Cloud really thought of him.

With the fires raging behind him, he sent Cloud a rueful smile, saying goodbye to the happiness they could have had.

“I was wrong about you,” he said quietly, and Cloud’s eyes widened.

“That’s my line! I—I loved you, you son of a bitch,” Cloud choked out. “No, not you... whoever the hell you are!”

The echo of those words hurt more than anything. No matter what path they took, it seemed like they were always destined to end up here. Decimating each other with weapons and words.

Sephiroth’s wan smile faltered and vanished.

Not him, of course. It had never been him.

“Believe me, Cloud, I know.”

When Masamune appeared in Sephiroth’s hand, Cloud stumbled back a few steps, before charging ahead and covering his mother’s body with his own. As if Sephiroth would kill her. As if he would hurt either of them.

But the reaction certainly showed him what Cloud thought of him.

With a sharp slash of his sword, Sephiroth opened another portal. Not letting himself grieve or look back, he stepped through it, heading back to the Edge of Creation; returning to the future one last time.

But instead of revisiting the moment where he would ask Cloud to join him, he retired to the loneliness of space, alone. There was no point in asking anymore; not after this. Cloud’s answer was painfully clear.

As it should have been from the start.

Sephiroth never should have wasted his time on Cloud. He’d only ended up hurting himself.

But no more.

Enough was enough.

Sephiroth was done trying.

Chapter Text

Standing alone at the Edge of Creation, Sephiroth looked upon the vast endlessness of space. Countless stars lay splayed out before him, distant and unreachable.

It had been his dream to sail through the cosmos, to have all of those words within his reach, and that dream may yet come true… but Sephiroth hadn’t expected it to feel so damnably lonely.

He’d always been a solitary person, with no need for others to keep him company, but after spending years at Cloud’s side, after learning what it was like to have a companion who liked and appreciated him, after experiencing the joys of friendship… it was difficult to get used to being alone again.

Sephiroth regretted going back in time and letting Cloud get under his skin. The experience had changed him, irrevocably, down to the tiniest molecules that weaved the fiber of his being. Cloud, meanwhile, had remained the same—unrelenting and unmovable, still blaming Sephiroth for the choices he’d made. Knowing that infuriated Sephiroth. It proved to him that, without question, these feelings were a weakness he never should have allowed himself to have.  

Right now, Sephiroth wanted nothing more than to destroy them. To destroy Cloud and make him pay for all the pain he’d put him through.

There was no more hope of reconciliation. Sephiroth had done his utmost, and it hadn’t been enough. And now, he was done trying.

Perhaps destiny was truly set in stone, predetermined, as some people believed. Perhaps the two of them were simply doomed to stay stuck in this cycle of violence, and perhaps that was exactly what Sephiroth deserved.

After all, he knew this was all a consequence of his own stubbornness. His greed.

It would have been easy to change destiny, if only he’d agreed to do the one thing Cloud had wanted most. If he’d spared Nibelheim, he wouldn’t be here, alone. Cloud would have stayed by his side and everything would have been different.

But it would have been a lie.

What Sephiroth wanted was for Cloud to accept him; to care for him enough to forgive even the worst of his sins and misdeeds, no matter how horrible they may be. But Cloud hadn’t been prepared to do that. Cloud turned out to be just like everyone else. He hadn’t actually cared about Sephiroth at all. He’d liked the idea of him, the illusion Sephiroth had created for him, and the moment he’d seen him for who he truly was, he’d turned his back on him.

That, more than anything, enraged Sephiroth.

Being alone by choice was fine. But being abandoned after being deemed not good enough was another matter entirely. It filled him with so much fire and rage that he felt like he himself could burst into flames and turn this planet into ash. The pain and anger were all-consuming.

Magic crackled between his fingertips, a fireball beginning to form. It shone brightly in the darkness of space, illuminating and warming Sephiroth’s face. Red and orange flames danced in front of him, and he watched them as if hypnotized.

He remembered standing in front of the Nibelheim gate, years ago now, doing the same thing. At the time, he’d stopped himself from destroying the town because he hadn’t wanted Cloud to die. In hindsight, he should have ended it all right then and there. It would have saved him so much time and suffering.

With an angry growl, Sephiroth hurled the fireball blindly, adding another crater to the barren planet he was standing on. It gave him no satisfaction. He wanted to destroy something bigger, something real. He wanted to do it and make Cloud watch, to see the rage and devastation upon his face as he lost something that mattered.

Sephiroth had no idea how long it had been since he’d given up on Cloud and returned to the Edge of Creation. Time passed differently in the space between worlds, and he had no way of measuring it in this strange, detached realm. It had certainly been a while, though.

He entertained himself by looking at other worlds, gaining knowledge and planning his revenge.

There were countless worlds out there, each one a little different, but in every single one, he was there, with Cloud, fighting to the death. Many things changed, based on specific events and people’s decisions, but one thing remained constant—Sephiroth always died by Cloud’s hand and he always came back, only for Cloud to kill him again.

The worlds moved at different speeds, so he watched the Zolom get slain in one, at the same time as the Meteor hurled toward Gaia in another, and Cloud grappled with the effects of the Geostigma in another.

Sephiroth watched it all with a strange sense of detachment. He soaked up the information, learning from the mistakes of his predecessors, determined to use this knowledge to truly hurt Cloud the next time he saw him.

After a while, he grew tired of waiting and decided to face Cloud in order to destroy him once and for all.

Out of all those worlds for him to choose from, there was only Sephiroth wanted to visit. Only one Cloud he wanted to see. His former friend, the one who had caused him more pain than anyone, was now the key focus of his vengeance. It was this Cloud that he wanted to ruin.

In that world, Cloud had been alone for several years, ever since he’d cured himself of the Geostigma and defeated Sephiroth for what he’d hoped would be the last time. Soon, he would learn how wrong he had been. It was time for Sephiroth to remind him that he would never be free of him. Not as long as he was alive.

And soon, Sephiroth would graciously offer to change that. 

Because, if it was Sephiroth’s destiny to be alone, then he would make it his choice. His would make his solitude self-imposed and not a consequence of Cloud leaving him. And to remove any and temptation, to prevent himself from ever trying to crawl back to Cloud, he would kill this Cloud he’d grown attached to and sever their bond once and for all.

With a decisive swing of his sword, Sephiroth opened a portal, but this time, instead of heading into the past, he stepped into the future, where all hope was already lost.

He found himself in a desert, sand dunes and barren lands on every side, as far as the eye could see. This planet looked just as dead as the dilapidated piece of rock he’d been floating on through space.

Was this destruction a consequence of Sephiroth’s own doing, or had it been caused by humanity’s insatiable greed for resources? This planet’s devastation, whatever its origin, looked irreversible. There was nothing here left to save.

And yet… there was one key difference. Unlike the lonely planet Sephiroth had been spending his days on, surrounded by darkness, with only isolated lights of faraway stars for company, this planet was bathed in light. The sun shone brilliantly in the clear blue sky, enfolding everything in its warmth.

It was too bright, too warm. Sephiroth glared up at the sky, feeling woefully out of place. After spending so much time in the darkness, the light hurt his eyes, so he squinted, quickly looking away.

He had no intention of staying here any longer than absolutely necessary. He would do what he needed to do, then retreat to the darkness, where he belonged.

Sephiroth closed his eyes and focused, searching for the familiar pull of Reunion.

He soon found it. The connection was strong and growing stronger with each second. It meant that Cloud was heading his way.

He was incredibly close now, leaving Sephiroth’s body humming with anticipation, prickling with yearning. The feeling was so intense, Cloud had to be feeling it, too. By now, he had to be aware of Sephiroth’s return.

What was on his mind in that moment, Sephiroth wondered. Was he dreading his return? Was he looking forward to the inevitable battle that would follow? Or… was he completely indifferent to the thought of seeing him again?

Somehow, that last option annoyed Sephiroth the most. Indifference was a million times worse than hate. He was fine with Cloud hating him, as long as he occupied every single thought in his head and haunted every second of his life, casting dark shadows over his happiness.

Sephiroth hoped Cloud was feeling dread; pure mind-numbing terror at the thought of him coming back and destroying everything he’d worked so hard to build.

If Cloud could feel nothing else for him, Sephiroth would at least make him feel despair at the mere thought of him.

In the distance, he could see a motorcycle approaching, and he tensed, readying himself. He didn’t try to hide. He stood in the middle of the road, blocking Cloud’s path, wing extended and sword poised to strike.

Sephiroth had waited so long for this moment; he was ready.

Without slowing down, Cloud jumped off the moving bike, spinning in the air, attacking with incredible speed and precision. Sephiroth blocked him easily, leaving him suspended in the air, their swords clashing in a loud clang of steel against steel, sparks flying.

“Long time no see, Cloud,” he purred darkly, smirking at the man in front of him, whose expressive blue eyes glared at him with nothing but hatred. They looked so different now, with tendrils of mako-green swirling among the pale blue. But they were just as fiery, just as vivid as Sephiroth remembered them.

They used to look upon him with so much affection, with love, but there was nothing in them anymore but hate.

An ache settled in Sephiroth’s chest, suffocating him.

The memories slowed his hand and dulled his blows. As angry as he was, it was hard to see Cloud as an enemy after everything that had passed between them.

Cloud, however, didn’t seem to have the same problem. He kept attacking viciously, with the intent to kill, just as he always had. It was as if all those years had meant nothing to him, and that enraged Sephiroth more than anything.

His plan had been to change Cloud, to make him fall in love with him, thus becoming easy to manipulate, but it had backfired in the worst possible way. Because, even now, all Sephiroth wanted to do was take Cloud into his arms and kiss him. Memories flooded his mind, making him long for things that could never be.

He cursed himself for his own stupidity, but he channeled all of that longing and confusion into rage, using it to fuel blows. He attacked savagely.

In the past, he’d often toyed with Cloud during their fights, enjoying the exchange and trying to make it last. But there was nothing enjoyable about this. It hurt. Cloud’s sword hadn’t even cut him, yet it felt like it was stuck in his chest, piercing his very soul.

With a furious roar, Sephiroth attacked, going all out, overwhelming Cloud with his onslaught. Systematically, he wore down his enemy’s defenses, and then, with a sharp, decisive stab, impaled him on his sword. With one hand, he lifted Cloud off the ground in a familiar move he’d used several times in the past.

Cloud moaned, face twisting in pain, writhing as he dangled in the air.

Sephiroth looked at him with a cruel, unapologetic smile, but his heart ached. Toying with Cloud used to give him so much pleasure, but now it brought only pain.

With growing horror, Sephiroth realized that killing Cloud wasn’t what he actually wanted to do. Cloud's death would bring him no pleasure. What he wanted, what he truly wanted, was for Cloud to accept him for who he was, and love him as he once had.

Being alone for so long, Sephiroth had convinced himself he’d gotten rid of these feelings; that they’d weakened enough that they could no longer hold him back, but he’d been wrong. Seeing Cloud again had made them return in full force. And no matter how much he wanted to lash out and hurt Cloud, that would do nothing to lessen his pain.

Damn him!

It would have been easy to end it all, right here—to kill Cloud, destroy this world and claim his long-awaited victory—but where would that leave him? He would return to the loneliness of space… and then what? The prospect of roaming the stars did not seem as inviting as it once had. He had no desire to do it alone.

Sephiroth snarled, his blood boiling. He was furious with himself, with Cloud, with this whole situation. With a vicious tug, he yanked out his sword, swinging it sideways, sending Cloud flying as it was ripped out of him. He crashed into the side of a mountain, boulders cracking from the impact, before crumpling to the ground with a pained whimper.

How dare Cloud take everything from him? Not only did he refuse him, he’d robbed him of the thrill of destruction and revenge—and that was unforgivable.

Hurt and bloody, Cloud stumbled to his feet, his legs unsteady. He looked like he was about to keel over, but Sephiroth knew this was far from over; just because Cloud was down, it didn’t mean he was defeated.

And, sure enough, Cloud was already glaring at him again as he wiped the blood off his lips and raised his sword once more. With renewed vigor, he came at Sephiroth again, eyes blazing.

Unbidden, a memory of Cloud’s fiery eyes flashed before him. Sephiroth remembered how angry he had been when he’d stormed into his room at the mansion, demanding answers. He remembered how he’d tried to comfort him with a warm embrace, full of love and understanding. And then he remembered that Cloud would never treat him that way again.

For only a moment, Sephiroth froze, overwhelmed by memories and emotions, but that was enough for Cloud to get the upper hand. 

Battered and bruised, using the last shreds of his strength, Cloud rammed into him, making him lose his balance and land on his back. Masamune cluttered to the ground, slipping from his grasp as Cloud pinned him down.

Immediately, Sephiroth reached for his sword, but before he could grab it, a blade pressed against his throat, stopping him.

“You have to plant your feet, so no one can topple you,” Cloud said coldly, and Sephiroth shivered.

The words cut deeper than any sword, because Sephiroth remembered them clearly—he’d said them to Cloud as he’d trained him. He’d never imagined they would be thrown back in his face in one final act of humiliation.

Fierce and indignant, even in defeat, Sephiroth glared up at Cloud defiantly.

Here they were again, stuck in this endless cycle, already having reached its last step. In a few moments, he would be downed by Cloud’s hand, and then everything would start up again, from the beginning.

Sephiroth closed his eyes and waited for the judgment to come.

He waited… and waited… but it never came.

“Why did you save my mother?”

He cracked his eyes open and frowned, peering up at Cloud. What a strange thing to ask someone right before they died.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“You remember saving her?” Cloud asked after a few moments of silence, a peculiar note in his voice. His hand shook, making the blade dig into the delicate skin of Sephiroth’s neck. “That… That was you, wasn’t it?”

“Did you hit your head, Cloud? Of course it was me. Who else would it be?”

“Whenever I asked you—or him, I suppose—about saving my mother, he never knew what the hell I was talking about. He didn’t even know her name. And after spending so many dinners at our house, I don’t think he was likely to forget it.” Cloud’s eyes narrowed, searching Sephiroth's face. “I saw you open a portal that day, but I convinced myself I imagined it because it didn’t make sense. It still doesn’t. And yet, I always had this nagging feeling that the murderer I saw that night couldn’t have been the man I grew up with. But that begs the question… Who are the hell are you?”

Cloud didn’t lower his weapon, but the tension in his shoulders eased somewhat, now that he believed Sephiroth wasn’t a killer. Was that really the only way Cloud was willing to accept him? Instead of giving him hope, the realization only brought him more pain. He refused to play along and pretend to be something he was not.

“I’m him, and yet I’m not. It’s complicated, Cloud, and it no longer matters.”

“It matters to me,” Cloud insisted.

“It shouldn’t. Whatever you blame him for, I’m guilty of as well. Do not try to absolve me.”

Having said that, Sephiroth fell silent and waited for Cloud’s patience to run out. Death was better than this. Thinking about the past brought him nothing but pain, and he refused to do it.

He closed his eyes and waited for Cloud to finish him off, but to his shock, Cloud growled and yanked him forward, his face suddenly inches away.

“Damn you, Sephiroth! Why do you have to be such an asshole? Haven’t you had enough of this bloodshed? Because I have! I’m sick and tired of killing you, so give me a reason—just one fucking reason—not to kill you, and I won’t.”

Mirthless laughter exploded out of Sephiroth, bitter and ugly. With each bob of his throat, the blade cut a little deeper into his skin, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.

“What’s so funny?” Cloud demanded.

Sephiroth sneered, glaring at him with contempt. “You are, Cloud. You and this absurd situation we find ourselves in! I spent years asking you to join me, looking for ways to stop all this fighting, and now you’re trying to pin it on me?”

“Join you?” Cloud repeated in disbelief. “You expected me to join you after seeing you kill everyone?! Do you hear yourself? If that wasn’t you, why didn’t you explain the situation to me? With the information I had, what did you expect me to do? Hold your hand and cheer you on as you used the Meteor to destroy the world?”

“There was nothing in this world for either of us, Cloud.”

“That didn’t mean you could destroy it!”

“We could have been happy, sailing through the cosmos, away from it all.”

Cloud stared at him, stunned speechless, but after a few moments, he suddenly gasped, eyes snapping back to Sephiroth’s. “Wait! Where did you come from? Were you from the future? When you showed up in Nibelheim when I was a child… Did you already know about this?” he asked, waving a hand between them. “Did you befriend me on purpose?” Sephiroth said nothing, staring at him impassively, but Cloud took his silence as an admission. The blade cut deeper into his skin, a trickle of blood running down his neck. The look in Cloud’s eyes turned wild and almost desperate. “Why? What the fuck were you trying to do?”

“Just like you, Cloud, I was tired of fighting. I didn’t want to keep doing this, but you wouldn’t listen. I asked you what it would take to change your mind, and you told me to change the past. So I did. Or, at least I tried. I went back, thinking I could make a difference, but you’ve always been exceptionally stubborn.”

Cloud snorted, shaking his head. “Not as stubborn as you, you bastard. Did you even try to change yourself, or were you just hoping to change me?”

Sephiroth rolled his eyes and looked away. It was pointless to deny it. Besides, he was flawless as he was; there was nothing for him to change. Cloud should know that.

“So what now, Cloud?” he asked after a while. “If you’re not planning to kill me, what do you want from me?”

Cloud glared at him, as if asking himself the same question. His hands shook, and for a moment, it looked like he was going to kill him, but then, with a cry of frustration, he threw away his sword and slumped to the ground. He practically collapsed next to Sephiroth, as if all the strength had suddenly been sapped out of him. With his head hung low, he took a few deep, shuddering breaths. He didn’t seem angry at the moment, just bone-tired and weary.

“I want to know what made you save my mother. You killed everyone else. You destroyed everything. You ruined everything we had… Yet you spared her. Why?”

Why, indeed. Led astray by misplaced sentiment, Sephiroth had gone against his nature in order to please Cloud… only to have it thrown back in his face.

“Surely you can guess why I saved your mother without me having to spell it out, Cloud.”

Cloud’s eyes, narrowed and suspicious, scrutinizing him, searching for any sign of deception. “Since you were from the future, and you already saw me as a threat, I suppose you wanted to use it as leverage. To leave me in your debt, so I’d stop fighting you.”

“It wasn’t about debt,” Sephiroth hissed. “I did it for you. I did it…” he paused, taking a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Tell me.”

They stared at each other for a few moments, both of them refusing to back down, until Sephiroth eventually relented. He had nothing left to lose. Even his dignity was in tatters.

“I believed that, with your mother alive, you’d be more inclined to see things from my perspective. I thought she’d be a reminder of all the awful things they put you through. To this day, I don’t understand why you chose to defend them. They abused you your whole life, and you just let it slide. They deserved to die.”

“That wasn’t your call to make, Sephiroth. Some of them were horrible, I won’t deny that, but that didn’t give you the right to kill them,” Cloud said, turning away, his expression growing distant. “But maybe you’re right. Maybe I would have seen things differently if my mother was alive. We’ll never know.”

“What?”

Cloud blinked and glanced at him sideways. “My mother. She died the next day.”

Sephiroth stared at him, loud static filling his ears. Cloud’s lips were still moving, forming words, but he could no longer hear them.

“How?” he choked out, unable to believe it.

“Hojo and his cronies showed up in Nibelheim to clean up the mess we made. His ‘cleanup’ involved killing everyone in town still breathing. Getting rid of the witnesses. He kidnapped me and Zack and experimented on us for years. Tifa was left for dead inside the reactor, and that was the only reason she survived. My mother… They must have killed her when they found her. After escaping Hojo, I went looking for her, trying to find out what happened, but there was no information and no trace of her. I don’t even have a grave to visit.”

The words came down on him like a ton of bricks. Sephiroth couldn’t believe it. He’d gone through all that trouble to save Claudia Strife, only for her to die the very next day. He snorted.

“Do you find this funny?” Cloud asked sharply.

“No. Not at all. I’m simply appreciating the irony. I had such grand plans, envisioning a different destiny for us, but in the end, I couldn’t even save a single person.” Sephiroth snorted again. “Perhaps destiny is set in stone, after all.”

“It wasn’t destiny that killed my mother, Sephiroth. It was the choices you made.”

Sephiroth’s eyes flashed angrily. “I saved—”

Cloud raised his hand, cutting him off. “I know, I was there. I still blamed you for her death, you know? Even though I knew you didn’t kill her yourself, I blamed you for everything that happened.”

Sephiroth clenched his jaw, gnashing his teeth, but he said nothing. After all, what could he possibly say to that? His actions had led to Claudia’s death once more, and Cloud had every reason to hate him.

So why hadn’t he killed him?

They sat in silence for a while, shoulders touching, as the sun moved slowly across the horizon.

“Was our past—?” Cloud started to ask, but his voice cracked, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Was it all a part of your mind games, Sephiroth? Was it all a lie?”

Sephiroth looked at him, seeing the vulnerability in his eyes, and for one sadistic moment, he wanted to lie and tell him it had all been a sham. That Sephiroth had played him for a fool, just as he’d originally planned. But he couldn’t. Because the fact that Cloud was so afraid of that possibility, even so many years later, even after so much death and cruelty had passed between them, proved that their time together had meant something to him. That, even after seeing Sephiroth as a murderer, he still missed him.

“Do you think I would have saved your mother based on a lie, Cloud? I wanted to spare you that pain.”

Cloud gave him another long, searching look. “How kind of you,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. He shook his head. “You have a really funny way of showing that you care. You know that, right?”

I never said I cared about you, Sephiroth wanted to snap… but the words would not come. He couldn’t get over the way Cloud was speaking to him. His words were soft; exasperated, but almost fond, and they made Sephiroth’s insides twist into knots, his heart lurching strangely. 

Cloud didn’t seem angry, and for once, Sephiroth didn’t want to rile him up, so he just scoffed and let it go.

Cloud sat there for a while longer, staring off into the distance, lost in thought, before eventually nodding to himself. It looked like he’d reached an important decision, and Sephiroth wondered what it could be.

Without a word, Cloud stood up, dusting off his pants as he did so. And then, he did the last thing Sephiroth could have expected: he reached out his hand and offered it to him.

“You asked me once,” Cloud paused and reconsidered. “Or maybe you asked me a bunch of times, I wouldn’t know. But let me be the one to ask you now. Sephiroth... do you want to defy destiny with me?”

Sephiroth frowned at the hand hovering in front of his face, instantly suspicious. “Why?”

“I told you, I’m tired of fighting.”

“That’s not a good enough explanation.”

“Do you want me to kill you, then? Is that it?”

“I’m simply trying to understand what you hope to achieve here.”

With a sigh, Cloud lowered his hand and crouched in front of him. “Look… Didn’t you say you wanted the same thing? So why are you being difficult?”

“I’m not being dif—”

“I’ve spent half of my life fighting you and I’m sick of it, Sephiroth. If I kill you, it’s only a matter of time before you return, and we have to do it all over again. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life doing this. So let’s try something different.”

Cloud made it sound so simple. The problem was that things were never simple between them. There had to be a catch somewhere.

“You’re willing to forgive me, then?” Sephiroth asked doubtfully, and the small smile that was beginning to form on Cloud’s lips vanished instantly.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, yeah?”

“Ah, I see how it is. You expect me to grovel and beg to earn your forgiveness.”

Cloud shook his head. “Not at all. I never said anything about forgiving you. I’m just tired of killing you. But make no mistake, Sephiroth—if you hurt anyone, I will.”

Was that a threat? An ultimatum? An attempt to control him?

Vicious and petty words crawled out of Sephiroth’s mouth, unstoppable. “I came here to kill you, you know.”

Cloud’s eyes widened, momentarily stunned… and then he laughed. He actually laughed, right in Sephiroth's face!

Damn him!

“No matter what you tell yourself, Sephiroth, I know you didn’t come here to kill me.”

He sounded completely certain, like that was one of the unshakeable truths of the universe, and Sephiroth hated him for being right. He hated him even more for calling him out like that.

“Besides,” Cloud added a few moments later, pointing at the gash on his chest, which was already healing, leaving only his shirt soaked with blood, “for a second there, you had a chance to do it, and you didn’t.”

Damn him…

Shaking his head, Cloud got back to his feet and offered his hand once more, a small smile playing on his lips.

“So what’s it gonna be, Sephiroth? Are we finally going to put this behind us?”

Sephiroth looked at the outstretched hand, not daring to believe the promise it held.

This could be a trap. A ploy to ensnare him even further, to make his downfall complete.

He hesitated, but the hand remained, patient and steady.

Slowly, cautiously, Sephiroth reached out and took it.

It was full of callouses, bigger now than he remembered it, but still warm and solid and smaller than his own. Its grip was firm and confident, a grounding presence in this whirlwind of life.

When his eyes met Cloud’s, there was no animosity in them. The warmth and affection were gone, but the absence of hate was a step in the right direction.

Perhaps there was still hope.

The hand squeezed and pulled him closer, and Sephiroth allowed it to guide him.