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Cloud scrambled back from the silver haired male in front of him, his lips turning to a scowl. Sephiroth returned the glare with a disapproving one of his own, looking immensely vexed.
The panic lasted all of three seconds, but it was enough to send a rush of adrenaline through Cloud’s heart. Even after months, Sephiroth’s return never ceased to alarm him. Death had never stopped him and Cloud had become used to his visits, as unwelcome as they were. They hadn’t fought to the death in a while, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t today.
“Cloud,” he said, his eyes narrowed.
“Sephiroth,” Cloud returned.
They glared at each other for a second longer before Sephiroth broke the silence.
“You missed lunch,” he commented, his eyes flickering to the untouched plate on the table, where Tifa’s sandwiches sat innocently on the ceramic dish.
“What’s it to you, you bastard?” Cloud snarled out, his expression hardening in irritation. This conversation was less welcome than just fighting to the death.
Sephiroth gave a low, deep sigh. “How many times must I tell you?”
The sudden crash of Sephiroth’s will upon Cloud’s made the blond stagger. Cloud fought against the relentless tide of Sephiroth’s anger and irritation in an attempt to throw him off, but for some reason, Sephiroth was just that much stronger than him.
Before Cloud could comprehend what was going on, Sephiroth had forced him to sit at the table and he was biting into the sandwich.
“There is no way you can resist my will if you are weakened from hunger or sleep deprivation,” the bastard said, smoothly sitting in the seat across from him. Cloud glared at him, struggling to throw Sephiroth’s will off. He did not need Sephiroth to give him this lecture. Again.
His baneful glare seemed to have no effect on the other, because the bastard was looking at his exposed right arm.
“You’ve lost weight,” Sephiroth commented, as if he wasn’t forcing Cloud to sit and eat lunch. “It appears I need to keep a closer eye on you.”
Cloud’s scowl turned dark. If he could throw Sephiroth off right now he would absolutely run the bastard through.
“I should ensure you are getting adequate sleep as well,” Sephiroth concluded, as if he wasn’t planning Cloud’s day.
Cloud glared murder at him through a mouthful of sandwich.
Sephiroth ignored him. “How are you going to fight me in this state?”
With Sephiroth’s will forcing him to eat, Cloud couldn’t exactly respond. But he hoped that Sephiroth could feel the mental ‘fuck you’ he was sending the other’s way .
Thankfully the bastard remained silent until Cloud had finished eating. The pressure of Sephiroth’s will released him abruptly and Cloud doubled over in relief, trying to get feeling back in his arms and legs by rubbing his hands over the skin.
Being under Sephiroth’s control never sat well with him, even if these days Sephiroth had used this ability to force Cloud to take care of himself more often than not. Sephiroth seemed to care an awful lot about how much Cloud ate and slept, as well as whether or not he had bathed or exercised. It was bizarre and uncomfortable.
“I am capable of taking care of myself,” Cloud hissed, his eyes flashing at his nemesis. Sephiroth hummed before reaching across the table and wiping a smear of mustard off the side of his lips with a napkin.
“Of course, Cloud,” he said calmly, as if he hadn’t just treated Cloud like a damned child. “When was the last time you ate before now?”
Cloud opened his mouth to retort, but froze as he wracked his brain for an answer. It wasn’t this morning; he had left early to make a delivery. It wasn’t the day before, either--Cloud had just returned from a long trip overseas and had basically slept the entire day away.
The smug smirk on Sephiroth’s lips proved that the bastard knew. Cloud closed his mouth, glaring at the other, refusing to speak. Sephiroth would most certainly know if he were to lie, but Cloud also had no reason to divulge any information to him.
“I see,” the bastard commented lightly, glancing at the empty plate in front of Cloud. Then he reached forward and placed his palm on Cloud’s exposed shoulder, his hand nearly wrapping around the entirety of Cloud’s deltoid.
Cloud jerked back, glaring at him. Sephiroth allowed him to retreat, but a smirk played on his lips, those cat-like green eyes amused.
“You weren’t nearly as thin last time we fought,” Sephiroth said, pulling his hand back. “Even when you were infected with geostigma, you had more muscle mass.”
“Wha--Are you keeping tabs on me, you bastard?!” Cloud exploded indignantly. “How the fuck would you even--”
“I know everything about you, Cloud.”
But Cloud didn’t get a chance to respond to that statement since Sephiroth vanished with a flap of his wing, leaving behind only a single black feather.
It might have been incredibly stupid, but Cloud spent most of the afternoon and evening pouring over the news articles about the WRO. Reeve’s involvement had definitely given the recovery effort some structure, but as the head of the organization, he couldn’t leave headquarters for long. So Cloud served as his messenger to bring supplies and materials across the continent.
He had just finished reading through the paper from last week when he heard the unmistakable sound of Sephiroth’s voice.
“Cloud.”
Cloud glanced up at the silver haired bastard with a glare but then looked back at the newspapers, resolving to ignore the asshole. He did not need Sephiroth to interfere.
But Sephiroth also wasn’t going to make it easy for Cloud to ignore him.
Knees buckling from the intense sensation of Sephiroth’s will slamming into his own, Cloud hissed in displeasure, his eyes flashing with anger, even though he couldn’t move his own body. Frustration crawled up Cloud’s spine as he fought to throw off Sephiroth’s influence, but it was futile.
“Did you have dinner, Cloud?”
The words came out as a dangerous purr, accompanied with Sephiroth’s left hand cupping his chin and forcing Cloud to meet his gaze. Angry blue met irritated green as they stared at each other. Sephiroth knew the answer, but he was purposefully trying to bait Cloud.
Not that Cloud could respond.
A low sigh crossed Sephiroth’s lips as he released Cloud’s chin and slid an arm around his shoulders. For the second time today, Cloud found himself seated at the table, staring at the stew that Tifa had left for him.
Like before, Sephiroth sat in front of him, watching as Cloud ate.
“We can play this game as many times as you would like, Cloud,” Sephiroth said calmly, his eyes a cold green. “The outcome will always be the same. You will submit to me.”
Cloud’s glare appeared to have no effect on Sephiroth as the other simply looked down at the bowl in front of him. The stew was good, even when it was cold. Not that it made Cloud feel any better, considering he was essentially being force-fed. He threw himself into the mental battle, but Sephiroth held strong.
Sephiroth didn’t release him until Cloud had finished eating. It was like a breath of fresh air after being held underwater, and Cloud nearly collapsed with relief, the glare emerging full force.
“Stop doing that,” Cloud snarled, his blue eyes flashing.
“Then do it yourself,” Sephiroth countered, his own green eyes burning with irritation.
They glared at each other for a moment longer, but then Sephiroth leaned over the table, closing his eyes, and pressed his nose against the skin between Cloud’s neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply. Cloud jerked back in disbelief, his eyes wide with alarm and shock as his jaw dropped.
Sephiroth paused, opening his eyes to reveal the bright green jewels with slit pupils. His words were flat as he stared at Cloud impassively.
“You stink.”
Cloud emerged from his shower with a heated glare that amused Sephiroth beyond anything else.
The smell of motor oil and dirt lingered on Cloud’s clothing, but Sephiroth didn’t care for it until it masked Cloud’s own scent.
Cloud was dressed in a clean white tee and blue shorts, but the fact that his hair was still dripping with water with a towel around his neck proved that Cloud was being defiant simply to be defiant.
Well, that just meant that Sephiroth had to play along.
Slowly sliding the chair back, Sephiroth walked over to the blond. He didn’t let the other retreat from his touch as he slid the towel from around Cloud’s neck and tossed it over his hair to ruffle the strands dry.
His eyes trailed over Cloud’s frame, a frown on his lips. Cloud was fighting his will, but exhaustion had weakened his nemesis to the point where it wasn’t much effort to keep him under. It was quite displeasing to feel the other struggle.
Cloud had lost weight. It was even more obvious now that he wasn’t wearing his black outfit and baggy pants. There was no doubt that Cloud could defend Edge, taking down monsters and beasts, but it was a huge handicap against Sephiroth.
Unacceptable.
Sephiroth tossed the towel over the back of the chair before directing Cloud to rest on the bed. The hateful glare that came with Cloud’s resistance was sweet, but Cloud really didn’t have any energy to spare right now.
Releasing Cloud from his will, Sephiroth slid off his own jacket and boots before plopping himself on top of Cloud’s chest. Cloud made a noise of startled annoyance as the breath was punched out of his diaphragm, but then went stiff as if Sephiroth had a hidden knife pressed against his chest.
“Sleep, Cloud,” Sephiroth ordered, though he didn’t extend his will again. “You are no match for me as you are now.”
“Why are you doing all of this?” Cloud asked, a scowl on his face. Sephiroth huffed with laughter.
“Because it annoys you,” he said, with all seriousness. “Because you struggle so beautifully. Because you are the one who is supposed to challenge me and you are not a challenge as you are now.”
“Oh, and I suppose you are the perfect picture of self-care,” Cloud sneered. Sephiroth’s lips curled with amusement.
“The fact that I am apparently doing a better job on myself than you are on yourself should alarm you, Cloud,” he countered. Just to hammer the point home, he added, “when was the last time you had a full night of rest?”
Cloud’s sputtering response was unneeded. Sephiroth knew.
“Yeah, well--What about you, you bastard?!” Cloud demanded in a feeble attempt to divert the attention back to Sephiroth.
“Last night, Cloud,” Sephiroth responded, completely honestly, silencing any further protests. “Go to sleep.”
“How do I know you’re not going to go out there and start killing people when I’m asleep?” Cloud demanded.
Sephiroth slowly raised his head to meet Cloud’s narrowed glare. A look of exasperation crossed his face. “Cloud, if I chose to do that right now, you wouldn’t be able to stop me.”
A shiver traveled up Cloud’s body, but Sephiroth ignored it. He placed his head back onto Cloud’s chest, letting out a breath of laughter. “Sleep, Cloud.”
For the first time, Cloud obeyed without further protest.
The light of the morning sun shone through Cloud’s window. Sephiroth slowly stirred, breathing in the familiar scent of Cloud as he pressed his face a little more firmly into the other’s chest.
It was a comforting sensation to hear the other’s heartbeat under his cheek. Perhaps it was only Reunion calling them together, but in the end, it didn’t matter to Sephiroth.
As long as he could fight Cloud, nothing else mattered.
Cloud was exhausted, the bags under his eyes proved that. It was irritating to see his nemesis in such a state, knowing that Cloud could never match him as he was.
That was the start of it all: seeing Cloud collapse from his own carelessness and weakness irritated him beyond all belief. Cloud was the one who matched him. Cloud was the one who killed him. To see him in that state was an insult.
Striking him down while Cloud was so weak would bring no joy.
This weakness wasn’t caused by Sephiroth. This was a product of Cloud’s own careless behavior and habits. Victory from this would be cheap. It would be worthless. It would be akin to killing a dying man, a mercy.
Sephiroth was not a merciful man.
Slowly sitting up, he studied the man who had killed him more than once. Cloud was utterly helpless like this, unable to resist his will or influence. It was a move shy of idiocy, sleeping without a single moment of hesitation, in front of his nemesis.
Waking Cloud from his slumber had appeal. More importantly, Sephiroth wasn’t about to allow Cloud to miss breakfast.
A smirk crawled up Sephiroth’s lips as he gazed at Cloud’s sleeping face.
The sound of a blade being drawn jerked Cloud into wakefulness. He leapt out of bed, his hand flying to grab the handle of his fusion blades, awareness crashing over his senses as adrenaline pounded in his heart.
Sephiroth raised an eyebrow before wiping Masamune’s blade with a cloth. Then he smirked at Cloud’s startled expression and vanished the blade.
“Breakfast, Cloud?” the bastard asked, gesturing to Cloud’s bedroom door. Not that Sephiroth was really giving Cloud a choice in the matter.
Sephiroth glared down at the wrapped package that had Cloud’s name on it.
Obviously, his words the previous day hadn’t made a large enough impact for Cloud to be neglecting his lunch again, so Sephiroth would be sure to drill it into the idiot’s skull this time. His eyebrow twitched at the task set before him, but it seemed to be inevitable.
Swiping the package off the table, Sephiroth extended his wing, following the pull of the S-cells to Cloud’s side.
Sephiroth didn’t even bother tucking his wing away as he landed behind Cloud, watching the blond swing his blades at the beasts that were approaching the border of Edge.
“Cloud, you forgot your lunch,” Sephiroth replied shortly, even though it was far past lunchtime.
“Later,” Cloud responded, much to Sephiroth’s annoyance.
Fine then. So they were back to this?
Sephiroth slammed his will down on Cloud’s unsuspecting mind, making the blond crumple into a heap. The beasts took advantage of Cloud’s weakness, fangs flashing, aimed at Cloud’s throat.
Masamune devastated the battlefield with one swing, the energy fueled by pure irritation. The creatures didn’t even have a chance to roar before they fell into a heap, dissolving into the Lifestream.
Sephiroth stepped towards Cloud, his expression cold as he glared at him. “Eat, Cloud.”
The package in his hands was taken by the blond, but much to Sephiroth’s irritation, Cloud didn’t unwrap it to eat lunch. Instead, Cloud placed the bundle on his bike and rounded on him, eyes blazing with anger.
“What is your problem?!” he demanded. “Why are you doing this?”
“‘Why’?” Sephiroth echoed.
Cloud knew why. Sephiroth had literally told him why the previous night. Whether Cloud didn’t believe his words, or Cloud had forgotten them was irrelevant. It didn’t stop the wash of anger and irritation that fueled Sephiroth’s next move.
Masamune flashed in the sun, swinging into a wide arc. Cloud brought his sword up to defend the blow, the surprise in his expression melting into determination as he held fast against Sephiroth’s blade.
But Cloud’s blade was dulled. Sephiroth knew it. He saw it in Cloud’s wary, exhausted gaze. It was more than likely Cloud couldn’t see it himself, being stronger than all of his companions.
So Sephiroth would prove it.
Spinning into a side slash, Sephiroth threw all of his weight into the blow. Cloud buckled under his onslaught, drawing one of the serrated blades from his sword and giving a vicious swipe in his direction. Sephiroth jumped up, his wing beating in the air once as he pulled back and swung into an Octaslash.
Cloud appeared well prepared for the attack because he threw himself into the battle, parrying all eight slashes. It was only slightly surprising that Cloud had enough stamina to do so, but Sephiroth didn’t give him a chance to regroup or breathe as he brought Masamune down in a sure swing.
Moving on the offensive, Cloud met every blow in a blazing shower of sparks. The world around them melted as Cloud pushed forward, anger and frustration on his face as Sephiroth brought his sword up to match Cloud’s hits.
Magic and blades flew between them. Ice. Fire. Thunder. Masamune and Cloud’s blades. Nothing mattered but the anticipation of the next clash between Sephiroth’s blade and Cloud’s. Nothing mattered but the strength behind each blow.
But Cloud’s swings were weakened.
Enough was enough. With one movement, Sephiroth locked Masamune into one of the notches in the serrated blade and tore it out of Cloud’s left hand. With the same movement, Sephiroth slammed against the hilt of Cloud’s fusion blades, jarring them enough so that Cloud was forced to drop the weapon. Both blades clattered on the ground as a Shadow Flare exploded between them, sending Cloud’s back skidding against the dirt.
Masamune was pointed at Cloud’s throat in the next instant, Sephiroth glaring impassively down at Cloud’s stunned expression.
“This is where you would die, Cloud,” Sephiroth said. “You are not a challenge as you are now. And you won’t be a challenge if you continue to neglect yourself.”
The anger had melted into weariness as Cloud realized their position right now. Masamune’s steel edge pointed at his throat, his swords too far away to reach…. This is how Cloud would have died, if Sephiroth was serious about killing him.
Instead of ending it, Sephiroth dismissed his sword and walked over to Cloud’s bike, grabbing the package. He dropped it wordlessly on Cloud’s lap, his eyes narrowed.
“Eat, Cloud,” he ordered.
Cloud didn’t move. Blue eyes were wide as he stared at Sephiroth, as if flabbergasted about something. Not that Sephiroth had any patience for his shock right now.
Overwhelming Cloud’s will was easier than usual. Probably because the other was still shocked stiff. The instant Sephiroth exerted himself, Cloud tried to resist and throw him off. Digging his metaphorical claws into Cloud’s physique, Sephiroth held the other under, forcing Cloud’s hand.
He watched as Cloud sat up, obediently opening the package, and eating the packed sandwiches inside. Sephiroth didn’t bother playing nice or allowing Cloud the choice. He had his chance.
Sephiroth waited until Cloud had swallowed the last bite before releasing the other from his will, still very much irritated at the fact that he had to chase Cloud down to remind him to eat. Again.
How long would it take for Cloud to realize that it was useless to resist?
Tilting his head to the side, Sephiroth dodged the crumpled wrapper aimed at his head. Expected, really. Cloud was quite predictable.
“I expect an adequate fight from you next time,” Sephiroth scoffed, turning on his heel.
He ignored Cloud’s piercing stare as he flew back towards Edge.
Cloud raced towards Sephiroth, the fusion blades swung behind him. He leapt towards the other, eyes blazing with anger and hate as he threw everything he had into his next attack.
A flash of silver momentarily blinded him and Cloud gave a cry of agony as Masamune sank into his chest. The momentum of his own swing caused the blade to pierce all the way through his torso. His left hand flew up to grasp the blade impaling him, almost as if he could claw it out of his flesh.
“Is this pain familiar, Cloud?”
The mocking taunt jerked him awake and Cloud’s left hand flew up to his chest, the phantasmal pain echoing through his body as the nightmare faded into the darkness. Cloud took several heaving breaths of air as he struggled to shrug off the memory of being impaled by Masamune.
It was probably a result of clashing with Sephiroth that afternoon. Cloud slowly moved to sit up, but a heavy weight on his chest and an arm around his waist stopped him short. Cloud glanced down and a flash of silver made his heart thump in his chest, his whole body anticipating the searing pain of Masamune’s blade.
It never came. Instead, Sephiroth slowly shifted so that his chin was resting on Cloud’s sternum, his eyes vivid green in the light of the moon. He took in Cloud’s panicked look, the hand on his chest right over the area that he had been impaled and smiled like the demon he was. Slowly, he leaned up, his eyes pinned on Cloud’s expression, a smirk playing on his lips. Silver hair slid from Sephiroth’s shoulders, falling like a curtain between them.
Like silver blades sinking into the pillows beside him.
“Recalling the agony, even in your dreams, Cloud?” Sephiroth whispered gently, as if he wasn’t speaking about stabbing him.
Cloud’s heated glare chased away all of the pain. “It hurt, you asshole.”
“That is good,” Sephiroth commented lightly. “The pain is proof you are alive. Hold it close, Cloud.”
Something about the words was odd. It wasn’t quite an admission of anything, but an implication. Almost like…
Cloud’s eyes trailed over the flawless, pale skin of Sephiroth’s torso. It was as if the other had never seen battle at all, though Cloud still bore the scars from their encounters. Sephiroth had healed scarlessly.
“Are you saying you don’t feel--” Cloud began, but cut himself off at the look of polite incomprehension on Sephiroth’s face.
“Sometimes I wonder if I’m even alive, Cloud,” Sephiroth commented, slowly shifting and placing his head on Cloud’s chest again. Cloud’s mouth opened, but then he closed it. There wasn’t really anything he could say to that. There was a silence between them, but then Sephiroth spoke again. “Go back to sleep, Cloud.”
It was easier said than done, but at least Cloud no longer felt the pain of the memory. He took several deep breaths before placing his hand back onto the bed. He closed his eyes, trying not to imagine what it would be like to be nearly torn in two and not feel it.
Sephiroth eyed the plate on the table and then the blond that was sitting at the table, rifling through the latest news report.
The picture of Cloud’s self-neglect was the same. The utter dismissal that he had human limitations. The implication that just because Cloud was enhanced meant that he did not need to eat or sleep.
But something was different: there wasn’t a bitter rejection in the air, but rather the atmosphere was similar to the anticipation of someone. For whom Sephiroth had no idea.
“Cloud,” he said, finally breaking the silence.
Cloud looked up before giving a glance to the clock on the wall. He sighed, standing up and gathering his papers into a pile.
“Already?” he muttered. Sephiroth’s eyebrow twitched as he glared at the blond, annoyed at the implication that Cloud had purposefully put off his lunch until Sephiroth’s arrival. But the irritation was swept away by Cloud’s hand swiping a can of coffee off the table and pressing it against Sephiroth’s chest as he walked past him with an armful of papers.
Sephiroth’s left hand flew up to grasp the can, surprise flickering on his face from the action. Cloud didn’t even hesitate as he continued to his bed, placing the papers on the blankets.
Can of cold coffee in his hand, Sephiroth stared at Cloud. Cloud stood up straight after arranging the papers and then turned to look at him.
“Lunch, right?” Cloud asked, gesturing to the table.
They sat at the table, Sephiroth glancing down at the can in his hands. It was just a can of coffee that should have meant nothing, other than the fact that Cloud had given it to him.
Black without sugar. Sephiroth couldn’t remember if he had ever had this brand or what coffee even tasted like, but he opened the can anyway.
“You know, I never see you eat anything,” Cloud commented as Sephiroth took a sip of the bitter liquid.
Small talk? From Cloud? Sephiroth raised an eyebrow at him, placing the can on the table with a clunk, a frown on his face.
“Cloud, it’s four in the afternoon,” he replied bluntly. “Sixteen hundred hours, if you want to be precise. I, like many people, eat lunch between the hours of eleven and one.”
Cloud’s glare was wonderful to see, even if the impact was diminished by a mouthful of chicken salad. Sephiroth smirked, bringing the can to his lips with one hand and pointed at the fork in Cloud’s hand.
“Furthermore, you are the only idiot I know who skips meals to the point of starvation, not on purpose, but by accident,” he continued. “Most people would consider the fact that they may be hungry after they wake up in the morning.”
“Shut up,” Cloud grunted, his face just a little flushed. “I’m busy.”
“I’m sure your work can be put off by non-negotiable tasks like eating and sleeping,” Sephiroth commented, sipping the coffee leisurely as Cloud ate. “But in case you need a reminder, I’ll be happy to force your hand every time.”
“If you wanted me to eat so bad at regular hours, maybe you should show up then,” Cloud grumbled, staring down into his salad, ears still flushed.
Sephiroth’s eyes widened, staring at Cloud’s fluffy blond hair. Was the other inviting him to mealtime? This entire interaction was bizarre and he half wondered if something had happened between this morning and now.
Shaking off his embarrassment, Cloud looked at him in the eyes. Sephiroth was mildly startled to realize that there was no hint of fear in the clear blue. “Are you seriously just going to keep doing this?”
Tapping his fingers against the can, Sephiroth pondered the answer. “Until the time when you can provide me with an adequate challenge.”
Cloud paused, a frown on his face. “And after that?”
Sephiroth smirked. There was no need to respond to such a ridiculous question. Of course, at that time, one of them would be eliminated. Whether it was Cloud or if it was Sephiroth, it didn’t matter in the end. Everything was in the fight, not the victory or the loss.
Perhaps that was why Cloud’s self-destructive behavior irritated Sephiroth so much. Cloud was running from their battle. Running from the truth.
Sephiroth would not allow him to escape.
Sephiroth wrapped his will around Cloud in one smooth motion.
It was strange not to feel the other resisting him. Strange not to feel the other’s hateful glares and disdainful snarls. Instead, Cloud simply glanced at him before obediently letting Sephiroth direct him to rest for the night.
Something about his obedience was irritating. It was far more irritating than Cloud’s defiance or his anger.
A product of his exhaustion, most likely.
Slowly placing himself on top of Cloud’s chest, Sephiroth released the other from his will. It hadn’t slipped his notice that Cloud had skipped dinner again, but Sephiroth wasn’t about to force him to eat dinner when it was already so late at night.
They slept under the cover of night, with the stars shining above their heads.
The offering of coffee became a regular thing at lunch.
An offering of tea became a regular thing at dinner.
Sephiroth mused at the bizarre thought. He hadn’t expected Cloud to extend the courtesy of giving him something to drink. Perhaps the blond felt uncomfortable when Sephiroth was watching him eat. Perhaps it was Cloud’s brand of politeness. Perhaps he just wanted Sephiroth to be drinking something so that he didn’t feel alone while he ate. It was hard to tell, and the reasoning didn’t matter.
Landing in Cloud’s room just after noon, Sephiroth slowly tipped his head at the occupant who was putting on his gloves. Cloud glanced at him and then at the clock in the corner.
“You’re early,” he commented.
“It is lunchtime,” Sephiroth responded. “Four in the afternoon is hardly an appropriate time for lunch.”
Cloud had suggested Sephiroth come at the proper time for lunch, so Sephiroth had taken his suggestion. But Cloud didn’t look ready for lunch, and the normal dish of neglected food was notably missing on the table.
That didn’t stop Cloud from placing his usual offering of coffee down, but he then pointed a finger at Sephiroth. Green eyes narrowed in distaste as he spoke.
“Lunch isn’t ready yet,” he stated shortly. “Tifa breaks for lunch around one or two in the afternoon. I have a delivery to make.”
“Surely you won’t keep me waiting, Cloud?” Sephiroth asked dangerously. He had not come here with the intention of waiting for hours while the other went gallivanting around to deliver things.
“Of course not. You’re coming with me,” Cloud scoffed, as if the very idea was laughable. “After I’m done, we can spar in the Wastes or something.”
Well, that changed things. Sephiroth felt his irritation melt away with some level of amusement, tossing the coffee in the air and catching it with his left hand. It was an interesting proclamation from Cloud, one that Sephiroth wasn’t entirely against.
“I believe I have mentioned before that you are not a challenge when you are hungry,” Sephiroth commented, even though his mind had already been made up.
“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t kill me or anything,” Cloud dismissed, turning his back to him. It was unbelievable, really, that Cloud would risk such a thing, knowing that Sephiroth was stronger at the moment.
Though the other didn’t really have anything to fear. A battle with him only had value if Cloud could match him. Otherwise, it would be a waste of energy and a hollow victory.
Sephiroth laughed heartily as Cloud fell to his blade while swearing up a storm.
It was a useless endeavor. Cloud could never challenge him as he was, but seeing him frustrated at the fact that he was weakened to this state had Sephiroth hoping that, for the first time, Cloud finally realized the difference in strength between them. In every previous battle, either of wills or of blade, Cloud had pointedly ignored that difference.
Perhaps this was the spar that was needed to remind him. Cloud could challenge him, but only at full strength.
“Are you sure you want to continue?” Sephiroth taunted, looking down at the lightly bleeding blond. “Your reaction time has slowed significantly.”
“Wasn’t as bad as our last battle,” Cloud retorted, glaring up at him from the ground, his blades lying in the dirt next to him.
There was a moment of silence as Sephiroth considered these words. Wasn’t it? Sephiroth couldn’t really recall a difference, but perhaps Cloud was right.
“Are you sure?” Sephiroth taunted. “You seem to be just as weak as last time.”
Cloud’s eyebrow twitched and Sephiroth was delighted to see his blue eyes burning with anger. Masamune was brought between them, meeting the sword suddenly in Cloud’s grasp in a shower of sparks. Blade to blade. Will to will. None of it mattered when they battled. As long as Cloud could challenge him.
Sephiroth pushed Cloud away from himself, glancing at the position of the sun. “I believe it’s time for your lunch, Cloud,” he commented off-handedly. “Unless you’d like to taste the steel of Masamune’s blade again?”
Cloud scoffed, pushing himself off the ground and glaring at him.
“You know, it’s a bit ironic.”
Sephiroth looked at Cloud over his cup of tea, watching the light of the sunset reflect in the other’s blue eyes. “What is?”
“The fact that you’re the one bent out of shape when I don’t eat or sleep properly,” Cloud replied. “Didn’t you lock yourself in the Nibelheim Manor for a week without eating or sleeping?”
Green eyes turned icy in half an instant. Sephiroth saw Cloud flinch and avert his gaze away, the mood of the room instantly cold. Sephiroth raised the cup to his lips as he stared at Cloud’s half-eaten dinner, pondering his answer.
“I suppose finding the origins of my creation may have caused me to lapse into bad habits,” he allowed.
“Sorry,” Cloud muttered, but Sephiroth didn’t particularly care for his apology. Instead, he placed the cup on the table, looking down at the dark liquid inside.
“You’ve read those documents,” Sephiroth commented. “Surely you understand.”
Cloud placed his fork on the plate. Normally, Sephiroth would extend his will to force the other to eat, but the topic had definitely killed anything resembling an appetite and he suspected that Cloud was the same.
“I think your choices matter more than what you were created to be,” Cloud responded.
“Do they? Can you ask a spider not to spin a web? Can you ask a bird not to reach for the sky? Can you ask the wind not to blow?” Sephiroth asked, trailing a finger over the rim of the cup. “Even now… The impulse to reach out and destroy you is there.”
“But you’re choosing not to,” Cloud prompted.
“For now.”
Blue met green as they stared at each other over the table. Sephiroth finished his tea and stood up, taking a few steps towards the window and looking out into the sunset. The world was ready to rest for the night.
“Finish your food, Cloud,” he chided. “Our battle will be put on hold until another time.”
Cloud turned at the sound of feathers brushing air.
As expected, Sephiroth was standing just a few paces away, wing half extended, Masamune gleaming in his left hand. The sight would have brought a thump of alarm to his heart just a few weeks ago, but right now…
Seeing Sephiroth’s expression of calm anticipation made Cloud pause. He glanced at the clock in the corner, wondering if he had missed a meal or something.
But it was only around eleven in the morning. Early for lunch. And Cloud had told Sephiroth that he usually didn’t eat until around one or two in the afternoon so…
Slowly, his eyes landed on Masamune’s steel edge and then Cloud picked up the fusion swords.
“Only for half an hour. I have a delivery to make at noon,” he said, stepping outside. They walked a fair distance away from Edge before Cloud turned back to Sephiroth.
They didn’t fight to the death these days, but that could change at any time. When the time came and Sephiroth deemed Cloud enough of a challenge then perhaps…?
Sephiroth’s expression hadn’t changed, but he raised the blade enough for the steel to reflect the sun overhead. Cloud held the handle of the fusion sword and dipped his head to press his forehead against the red cloth.
A prayer for victory against his nemesis. Perhaps his blades would swing true this time. Perhaps he would defeat Sephiroth.
But maybe that didn’t have to be the end?
Cloud brought both hands to the handle, swinging the blades in front of himself. He would fight with everything he had, but ‘everything’ still might not be enough for Sephiroth. Sephiroth, who wanted more from him. Sephiroth, who believed in the strength that Cloud held in his hands. Sephiroth, who forced him to eat and sleep because he ‘didn’t pose a challenge’ when he neglected himself.
Leaping at Sephiroth, Cloud swung the fusion blades confidently. As expected, Sephiroth brought Masamune’s steel edge to meet the blow.
Cloud hadn’t even realized how weak he had become. Not until Sephiroth utterly crushed him in battle. Seeing the other’s look of disappointment had shocked him beyond words. That had been the prime moment Sephiroth could have struck him down. Cloud was so weak and hadn’t even realized since he was still able to defend Edge from the beasts.
But Sephiroth had known.
It had angered Cloud at the time, infuriated him. For Sephiroth to keep tabs on him like he was a child. Like he was incapable of caring for himself.
Then Sephiroth had spared him.
Cloud pressed forward, throwing everything he had to divert Sephiroth’s blade. Dust flew into the air, their battle extending into the landscape around them. Magic flared to life, distorting the scenery from view until all Cloud knew was the anticipation of the next swing.
Heart pounding from the adrenaline, Cloud spun into a wide slash, watching as Sephiroth did a backflip to avoid the steel edge.
Through battle, Cloud could understand him. Even though he had mocked Sephiroth before by saying that the other didn’t understand, that wasn’t quite true. Sephiroth understood resentment. He understood hate. He understood how to bring pain, fear, and despair.
He understood loneliness.
There was nothing in this world that Cloud didn’t cherish.
There was nothing in this world that Sephiroth cherished.
The world between them exploded into a shower of sparks as their blades crossed once more.
Cloud would show Sephiroth the world he cherished. He would prove to Sephiroth that there was more to the world than the pain that he had once experienced under Shinra's rule.
...but maybe after lunch?