Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Split ❯ Split ( Chapter 1 )

Summary: Ever since the traumatic events of their childhood, Cloud Strife had devoted his life to protecting his adopted, younger brother Kadaj from the cruelties of the world. But who would be the one protecting him? (Warnings: AU, Dark fic)

 

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII characters belong to SquareSoft a.k.a. SquareEnix.

 

A/N: I apologize if the story is too rushed, dark and generally… crappy. I'm just experimenting with this strange, disturbing idea that has been swimming inside my head for some time. Maybe with this fic out of the way, I can go back to writing more normal and cheerful stuff.

 

Split

A Final Fantasy VII fanfiction by ntc

 

There once was a boy who pleaded with a demon. “I have a friend. He is the only real friend that I have. He helps me when I need help. He keeps me safe. He doesn't let anyone hurt me.” The boy's voice turned sad. “But now he is hurting. Someone is hurting him.”

 

“What is it that you're asking of me?” asked the demon.

 

“I ask that you help him. I ask that you keep him safe. Don't let anyone else hurt him.”

 

xXxXxXx

 

With his eyes closed, he let his body fall into the familiar pattern of movements. Flowing fluidly from stance to stance, he swung his bamboo sword like an extension of his arm, exhilarated by the rush of adrenaline in his veins.

 

“Don't you get bored fighting a non-existent opponent, nii-san?” A familiar voice called out, breaking his concentration.

 

Cloud opened his eyes and smiled in greeting when he saw the silver-haired teenager sitting on the bench in the corner of the training hall. “Kadaj, what are you doing here?”

 

“Waiting for the cook to return home and prepare my dinner, of course,” said the youth, eyeing the stack of bamboo swords on the floor thoughtfully. “I should be the one asking what you're doing here. I thought your session with the kendo club students ended an hour ago.”

 

“Yeah, but I thought I'd put in some extra practice lest these joints of mine get rusty from disuse.”

 

“You're only five years older than me and you're already talking like an old man,” Kadaj admonished him. The young man began shedding off the outer coat of his school uniform and rolling up the long sleeves of the white shirt underneath. “How about a spar? We haven't had one of those for a long time now.”

 

Cloud grew uneasy as he recalled— or rather, failed to recall— what had happened the last time they sparred. “I don't think that's wise.” Their last duel had ended with Kadaj lying on the ground with a broken forearm that had to be put in a cast for more than a month. What was frightening about the whole incident was that he couldn't even remember how it happened.

 

“Oh, come on. I'll go easy on you if you want,” taunted Kadaj, grinning impudently. The teenager closed his fingers around the hilt of one of the bamboo swords and began swinging it around experimentally. “I've really missed this.”

 

“You should wear the armor and helmet if you're serious about sparring.”

 

“We've never used them in the past, so why start now?”

 

“I don't want to hurt you.”

 

Kadaj's green eyes narrowed in challenge. “Can you?” The words were barely out of his mouth when the teenager struck out suddenly.

 

The only warning that Cloud had was Kadaj's sudden intake of breath. He brought up his sword just in time to parry the blow. Kadaj was fast and, like him, had a natural talent when it came to sword fighting. However, he had no concentration to spare on appreciating his younger brother's skill as he lost himself in the intricate dance of attacking and counterattacking. Kadaj had youth and speed on his side, whereas Cloud had the advantages of experience and the ability to anticipate his opponent's moves, given that he was the one who had taught Kadaj everything he knew about kendo.

 

“Face!” Cloud called out in warning before he brought his sword down in a vertical, downward arc onto the top of Kadaj's head. Through well-honed reflexes, Kadaj was able to block the strike and prevent the contact between sword and skull. Cloud didn't give him any time to recover and delivered his next blow. “Torso!” Knowing that Kadaj would be hard-pressed to block the second move, Cloud tempered his swing so that the force of it would not cause too serious an injury. What Cloud did not anticipate was Kadaj using his arm to trap Cloud's sword against his side, effectively immobilizing him, while striking out at the same time. Cloud jerked his head to the side sharply but was unable to evade the blow fully. The tip of Kadaj's bamboo sword grazed his left temple, tearing through skin and causing warm blood to trickle down his face. It was the shock of the blow, rather than pain, that caused Cloud to let go of his sword and leap backwards and away from the silver-haired teenager. Fear gripped Cloud's heart like a cold fist, his instincts warning him that his life was in danger; but the sensation faded away as his mind tried to convince himself that Kadaj would never hurt him on purpose.

 

Kadaj shook his head in a disapproving gesture. “Showing mercy to your enemy will only get yourself killed.” The lack of remorse in Kadaj's voice chilled him. For the briefest moment, Cloud felt as if he was facing a stranger. He could remember a time when Kadaj would break down in tears every time his `nii-san' got hurt, but admittedly that was a long time ago. A time when they were hardly more than toddlers; a time when the only thing that kept them sane was each other.

 

“You're not my enemy, Kadaj.”

 

The smile on Kadaj's face held a cruel edge that was both unfamiliar and alarming to him. “Are you sure about that?”

 

Cloud tried not to let his nervousness show as he walked towards Kadaj and stretched out his hand for his sword. “I think that's enough sparring for today…”

 

Kadaj apparently hadn't heard him. The youth's arm became a blur as he swung his sword in a deadly arc right towards Cloud's head…

 

And before he could feel the impact of the sword strike, Cloud abruptly blacked out.

 

Similar to his previous experiences, there was a period of silence; a forward skip in time. Just before his vision returned, however, he could hear a chant inside his head. `Kill him! Kill him! Kill him now before it's too late!' The command was shouted in his very own voice, and it was the voice of the monster inside him. The same monster that took from him everyone he had ever cared about.

 

`No! I won't let you!' Not again. Never again. `Stop it! Stop it!'

 

When he regained awareness, Cloud noticed that he was drenched in sweat. In his trembling hands was the bamboo sword that he did not even recall reclaiming from Kadaj— a sword that was now broken in half and dripping blood that was not his own. He dropped the sword with a soft, fearful cry. “Kadaj?” He would never forgive himself if anything had happened to the boy…

 

“That's one nasty sword arm you have there, nii-san.”

 

Overwhelming guilt momentarily paralyzed him when he caught sight of the youth sitting on the floor, sporting numerous bruises and gashes on his arms and face. Despite his injuries, Kadaj still flashed him a tired, impish smile. “Hey, what's wrong? I haven't hit you too hard on the head, have I?”

 

Without saying another word, Cloud dashed forward and pulled his younger brother into a tight embrace. He found that he could not stop trembling.

 

Kadaj winced in pain. “Stupid nii-san, will you stop squeezing me? My ribs are bruised enough as they are. I don't think anything is broken, but it still hurts like a bitch.”

 

Cloud said nothing, He knew what he had to do to keep Kadaj safe.

 

xXxXxXx

 

“That spiky-haired serial-killer suspect is waiting for you inside your office, Lockheart,” the receptionist mumbled around a cigarette that was perpetually hanging off the corner of his mouth. “Shall I call security?”

 

“Try to keep your opinions to yourself, Cid,” the female psychiatrist reprimanded him, careful to keep her voice soft. “And stop labeling Cloud Strife with that ridiculous title. There hasn't been any proof that he was responsible for those deaths, and you know it.”

 

“I tell you, only bad eggs can possibly come out of that hellish orphanage in Nibelheim. The massacre that occurred there would turn even normal adults into loonies, not to mention impressionable ten-year-olds. I'll be surprised if he didn't turn into a violent, bloodthirsty axe-murderer.”

 

Tifa Lockheart frowned at him. “Have you been riffling through confidential client files behind my back again? You're not supposed to do that, you know.”

 

“All I'm saying is that there's no harm in taking some precautions to ensure your own safety. Especially while dealing with loose cannons like him.”

 

“Cloud Strife would never harm me,” said Tifa with conviction in her tone. “I know him. He is not that kind of person.”

 

“It's your funeral, girl,” growled the cantankerous middle-aged man who treated her less like his boss and more like a wayward daughter. “Don't expect me to bring flowers.”

 

“Oh, let me do my job in peace, you morbid old man. I can take care of myself,” she declared as she opened the door to the consultation room.

 

She had barely closed the door behind her when Cloud spoke up from where he was sitting on the couch. “I nearly killed him yesterday, Dr. Lockheart.”

 

That was certainly an unusual conversation starter. “Who?” asked Tifa weakly, her voice tinged with mild apprehension.

 

“My brother.” Cloud's head was bowed in shame. “Kadaj.”

 

Tifa walked closer to the tormented man and sat down on a chair beside him. “What happened?”

 

“It was my fault. I knew I shouldn't have accepted his challenge. I injured him really badly during a kendo spar.”

 

“Did you…” Tifa pursed her lips. “Did you have another one of those blackouts?”

 

Cloud squeezed his eyes shut in misery. “Yes! And it has been getting worse and worse recently! I need to be locked up! For Kadaj's safety, I shouldn't be allowed out of a cage! I need you commit me to an asylum.”

 

“You sound terrified, Cloud.”

 

“Of course I'm terrified!” Cloud shouted, hysteria at the edge of his voice. “You don't know what it feels like to know that there's something inside of you that you can't control. To know that you're a monster capable of killing the ones you love!”

 

“Do you really think so little of yourself?” Tifa said quietly. “You're not a monster, Cloud. Stop hating yourself.” For many months, Tifa had realized that she was no longer reaching out to Cloud in a professional capacity. She had grown fond of the blond man before her, and would have wanted to consider their relationship as something closer to friendship instead. That was why it pained her so much to see Cloud like this. If only he knew…

 

“You don't understand,” said Cloud stubbornly, refusing to be comforted. “There is a monster inside me; a monster that is capable of atrocities that you could only imagine. When someone close to me dies, it is always during one of my blackouts. And I… just can't remember. You've said so yourself. Maybe the blackouts are meant to be some sort of defence mechanism to protect myself from the knowledge that I've committed those murders.”

 

“I've also said that it is more likely to be a defence mechanism meant to shield you from the horror of witnessing the deaths of those around you.” Tifa found herself thinking of the horrific details that she had read in the newspapers about the Nibelheim Massacre. There had only been two survivors from that bloodbath. Two very young boys. “Have you ever seen this monster?” It was a strange question to ask, but she had to know. Had Cloud ever spoken with… that other side of him?

 

Cloud looked surprised by her question. After a period of silent contemplation, he admitted, “Just once. Shortly after Aeris had died. That monster… looked just like me.”

 

“Did he say anything to you?”

 

“He said…” Cloud swallowed the lump in his throat. “He said that he was sorry.”

 

`I'm so sorry, Cloud. I couldn't save her.'

 

Torn apart by the anguish of his loss, Cloud had lunged at the cold-blooded monster wearing his face. He had pounded on that unmoving, heartless chest again and again with his fists as sobs wracked him. `Murderer! You're the one who killed her! Give her back to me! Bring Aeris back!'

 

“A monster wouldn't apologize, Cloud. Don't you agree?”

 

Cloud was pulled out of his memories by Tifa's voice. He didn't know how to respond to Tifa's statement, so he remained quiet instead.

 

Tifa did not press Cloud further for answers. She, too, was caught up in memories of her own. Memories of a man who looked exactly like the one sitting on the couch beside her, but who wasn't. It was two months after Cloud had started seeing her for therapy sessions. In a deserted car park late at night, she was held up at knifepoint by a gang of thugs who would have taken away so much more than her purse if he hadn't showed up. He was strong, and so very brutal and efficient in his attack on the gangsters that Tifa had known that he wasn't the Cloud that she had been speaking with during their sessions together. But she hadn't been afraid of this other Cloud; and had even asked for his name.

 

`I don't have a name.'

 

Since that encounter, she was relentless and refused to back down from her search for answers. She was determined to acknowledge the existence of this other side of Cloud Strife that had tried so hard to remain hidden. Eventually the Not-Cloud entity had given in.

 

`Has any of your patients ever told you that you're a very persistent female canine?'

 

Tifa had grinned good-humoredly at him then, knowing that she had won. `Hello, I'm Tifa Lockheart. Pleased to meet you. And who might you be?'

 

A sigh of resignation escaped through parted lips which soon curved upwards in an amused smile. `If you must have a name to call me by, it's Strife.'

 

“Strife.” Tifa reached out and placed her hand on one of Cloud Strife's knees. “I need to talk to you. Please.”

 

The blond who sat next to her now showed none of the insecurities and fears which were present just moments ago. “What do you wish to talk about?”

 

Grateful for the trust that had been granted to her like a precious gift, Tifa continued, “Were you trying to kill Kadaj?”

 

“No.” Strife turned his head away. “Not Kadaj. I would never hurt Cloud that way.”

 

“Then… why?”

 

“Because I don't want Cloud to get hurt. I… I don't know what to do anymore.” Tifa was shocked into speechlessness when Strife turned to face her again. There were fresh tracks of tears on his cheeks. “Help me, Tifa. Please help me save him.”

 

xXxXxXx

 

Cloud deleted the message on the answering machine when he saw that it was another one from his psychiatrist. Damn, the woman was persistent. He was disappointed when she had refused to get him committed like he had asked her to. But what had upset him the most was the alternative solution that she had presented him with.

 

“Leave Kadaj, Cloud. Just pack up your bags and move to some place far away from him without him finding out. For your own sake, as well as his.”

 

It was absurd, of course, for him to be upset. Wasn't it his intention to get locked up in a mental hospital in seclusion for the same reason? How was that any different from what Tifa Lockheart had suggested?

 

Cloud let out a self-mocking laugh. The difference was that he actually had to make a conscious decision to abandon his brother if he took Dr. Lockheart's option. He knew that he couldn't do it. He just wasn't strong enough, or cruel enough. Kadaj would never forgive him, and he would never forgive himself.

 

And while he was struggling with his decision, the risk on Kadaj's life remained ever present and real.

 

It had been two weeks since the regrettable sparring match. Not once had Kadaj blamed Cloud for injuring him. He never did. Sometimes, Cloud wondered if it would have been better if Kadaj had blamed him, hated him; maybe even feared him. That way, Kadaj would have been more able to defend himself should Cloud be taken over once again by the merciless beast within him. That way, maybe Kadaj would be able to kill him if the situation called for it.

 

To stop himself from endangering Kadaj's life, Cloud had resorted to drugging himself to sleep so that his body was incapable of movement during the night. He had even entertained the notion of strapping himself to the bed, but immediately discarded it when he realized that there was no way he could get that done properly by himself. And there was no way in hell that he would get Kadaj to do that for him. The teenager did not need more proof that his brother was insane.

 

He was about to dig for his sleeping pills when he heard the knock on his bedroom door. The door swung open before he could respond and Kadaj walked in, a grim expression on his youthful face.

 

“You're planning to leave, aren't you, nii-san?”

 

The was so much hurt and rebuke in Kadaj's voice that Cloud could find no words to defend himself.

 

“Tell me.” When Cloud looked into Kadaj's cold eyes, his instincts began screaming of danger. Danger? For Kadaj? Or himself? “Who is this Tifa woman and why is she telling you to leave me?”

 

“She's a psychiatrist whom I've been seeing for a while now. She has been helping me through some rough patches in my life.” Cloud felt an overpowering urge to hold his tongue on the subject, even as he did not understand the reason for it. “It doesn't matter. I'm not taking her advice. I'm not leaving you, Kadaj.”

 

When Kadaj's shoulders started to shake, Cloud stepped forward and placed his arms around the youth's shoulders in a comforting embrace. “You have nothing to worry about, Kadaj.”

 

“Oh, I'm not worried.” It took a moment for Cloud to discover that Kadaj was shaking with suppressed laughter. The wrongness of it caused alarm bells to ring inside his head, and Cloud quickly broke the embrace and took a step back. His wrists were suddenly seized in a vise-like grip so strong that it was as if iron manacles had been clapped on them. When Kadaj tightened his grip painfully, Cloud could feel his awareness fading away and oblivion beginning to set in.

 

Cloud fought to remain conscious, afraid of what would happen if he blacked out this time. He wanted to warn Kadaj to get away, but his body would not obey him. The other presence inside him was taking over, and he could do nothing to stop it.

 

“Do you really think you can escape me?” The silver-haired youth roughly pulled the older man towards him and breathed into his ear, “Strife?”

 

He tried to push their bodies apart but he already knew that any attempts at resistance would be futile. He could never win. Not when the killer before him wore Kadaj's face and spoke in Kadaj's voice. Not when he still couldn't bring himself to kill his younger brother. He closed his eyes as he acknowledged his nemesis. “Sephiroth…”

 

xXxXxXx

 

“Why?” Strife gritted his teeth as sharp nails raked down his bare back. “Why do you do this?”

 

“Do you even have to ask?” Chuckling, Sephiroth proceeded to lick away the beads of blood that had oozed out of the lacerations on Strife's back. Because you won't show yourself to me unless I do this to you. Because you're a coward who hides behind that pathetic, whiny weakling named Cloud. You're the one making me hurt you, Strife. “She knows too much, Strife. It's too dangerous to let her live.” The thought of Strife revealing himself to another person caused a scorching, jealous fury to flare up inside him. He abandoned all pretenses of being gentle and became almost violent in his actions. From Strife's choked gasps, he could tell that his efforts in hurting and punishing the blond were succeeding. “And whose fault is it that she knows too much?”

 

“Don't punish her for what I've done.” Bound and bleeding beneath him, Strife was an intoxicating sight to behold. What was it about Strife's suffering that seemed to satiate the dark hunger inside him? “Don't… Don't hurt her. She's the only friend I have left.”

 

It was never `don't hurt me.' Silly, selfless, sentimental Strife. How many times had he heard that particular plea before? Strife should've learnt by now that pleading got him nowhere. Pleading didn't save those disgusting, abusive couples who had adopted them when they were young; or that sickeningly sweet florist who had tried to steal Strife's heart like a thief; or that presumptuous dark-haired soldier with his false promises that he would protect Cloud. The fool couldn't even protect himself, much less other people. Strife should've learnt that he didn't need anyone else.

 

Sephiroth sat back on his heels and reached out for the bottle of pills that was kept in the bedside drawer. After slipping the drug into his mouth, he grabbed hold of Strife's shoulder and turned him over so that they were now face to face. The sky blue eyes that stared into his shone with a mixture of desperation and despair. “You have me. You will always have me,” whispered Sephiroth as he prised apart quivering lips with his tongue. He then forced the capsule down Strife's throat, even as the blond bit down furiously on his tongue and the coppery taste of blood filled both their mouths. Sephiroth felt the muscles straining under his hands gradually relax as the soporific drug took effect.

 

When he was sure that Strife was fully incapacitated by a deep, drug-induced sleep, he removed the restraints on the blond's arms. It would end the same way it always had. Cloud would wake up tomorrow morning with no recollection of how the raw, angry rope burns on his wrists or the other wounds on his flesh had come about. Strife could protect Cloud from the knowledge of what had happened by enduring those moments for him, but he could not remove the physical evidence of them as easily. Cloud would explain it away as another inexplicable action of his own that was committed during his blackouts. Cloud would then continue on with his life as usual— a life of blissful ignorance; a life dedicated to taking care of his dear younger brother Kadaj. That dedication was one of the few things that was shared by both Cloud and Strife. Cloud's genuine love for Kadaj was the only reason that Sephiroth had allowed him to exist. If his desires were given full rein, he would have forced Strife to take over all the time, even if it meant torturing the blond every waking moment to achieve his goal.

 

It could not be helped. It was Strife who had mesmerized him, captivated him, so many years ago in Hojo's orphanage. Under Hojo's inhumane treatments and experiments, Strife was born; and a glimpse of him was all it took for Sephiroth to know that he would do anything to see him again. And again. And again.

 

Sephiroth ran his fingers gently through the soft, golden spikes and placed a kiss on the slumbering man's forehead. “Sleep well, Strife. I'll see you again tomorrow night.”

 

xXxXxXx

 

“So you're the slut who's trying to take my brother away from me.”

 

Tifa jumped and nearly dropped her car keys in her fright. She whirled around and was confronted by an angry-looking silver-haired teenager. His aquamarine eyes had an unnatural glow to them, clearly visible even in the poorly lit car park. “Who are you?”

 

“Don't you even bother to remember the names of the people whose lives you try to destroy?” The youth's mouth twisted in a sneer. “Do you make it a habit in your profession to tear families apart?”

 

The voice held so much venom that Tifa could not help breaking out in a cold sweat. “You're… Kadaj? Cloud Strife's brother?”

 

“I see that he has spoken to you about me.” Kadaj began walking towards her in small steps. “What else has he told you?”

 

Tifa slowly backed away until her back hit against the sedan behind her. “I'm not at liberty to say—“ She was cut off abruptly when a hand shot out and wrapped around her throat.

 

“Don't you dare spout that doctor-patient confidentiality crap at me!” Kadaj watched her struggle for air for a few more moments before easing his grip to allow her to breathe.

 

“You're…” gasped Tifa. “You're hurting…”

 

Kadaj laughed at her distress. “Of course I'm hurting you. That's the whole point! Perhaps this will teach you to keep your nose out of other people's affairs.”

 

“You're hurting him, Kadaj!” Tifa yelled, tugging ineffectually on the fingers digging into her windpipe. “You're hurting your brother!”

 

“What?”

 

“Cloud wasn't the only one who has acquired a separate personality to help him cope with the horrors of Nibelheim.”

 

The teenager studied her closely. “What do you mean by that?”

 

“Kadaj, you…” Tifa's voice grew steadier when she saw curiosity replacing the madness in Kadaj's eyes. “You have another aspect of your personality which you're not aware of. This other personality of yours was the one who had… who had…” Did she dare tell him? Strife had made her promise never to tell Kadaj about the truth of what happened. She had already broken her promise not to let either Cloud or Kadaj know about Sephiroth. Sephiroth had been Strife's burden to bear alone.

 

The grip on her throat tightened briefly, choking her. “Finish your sentence, woman.”

 

Kadaj's casual malice angered her and she glared furiously at the youth. She could find no reason to protect the teenager from the knowledge of what kind of monster he was. She would just have to ask for Strife's forgiveness after this. “Your other personality was the one who had killed the people who were close to Cloud. Aeris, Zack, his adoptive parents… You killed them all! And all this time, Cloud has been living with the uncertainty and guilt, thinking that he had been the one responsible for their deaths! How could you do that to him?!”

 

Kadaj released her and took a step backwards. His long bangs cast shadows over his eyes as he tilted his head away from her.

 

Tifa became ashamed of her harsh outburst. “It isn't really your fault, Kadaj. I can help you. Let me help you and your brother…”

 

Kadaj struck so fast that Tifa didn't even know that she had been stabbed until she felt the sharp pain between her ribs. Too stunned to speak and too wounded to move, she could only stare helplessly at the youth smirking at her. She clamped her fingers around the blade of the knife but did not attempt to pull it out for fear of worsening the bleeding. Despite her efforts, blood began pouring down her side.

 

“Because light shines brightest when it is surrounded by darkness.”

 

“Wha…?” Lightheaded from the blood loss, Tifa let herself slide down onto the ground to maintain her consciousness.

 

“That is in answer to your earlier question.”

 

Tifa screamed when the knife was brutally wrenched out of her ribcage. Her body began shaking, a sign that she was about to go into shock. “You're… Sephiroth!”

 

“So Strife has even told you my name, has he?” There was an eerie chuckle from the man towering over her. “Strife could've left me anytime. He could've ended his horror a long time ago by putting an end to my life. He certainly has become strong enough to do so, and I would've let him. But he chooses to stay with me, and he has held back all this time because of his misguided desire to protect his adopted brother. Because of Kadaj.” Mockery and amusement curved his lips into a cruel smile. “What he doesn't know is that there is no `Kadaj'. All this time, there's only me.”

 

Even when her vision dimmed and every breath she took became sheer agony, she wanted to scream. Even when her last breath left her, she wanted to scream. The key to setting Strife free was finally in her grasp. If only she could somehow convey to Strife the truth that Sephiroth had so cruelly taunted her with. If… only…

 

The silver-haired man raised a gloved hand and pushed eyelids over glazed, lifeless eyes. “Only me.”

 

xXxXxXx

 

The demon then asked the boy, “And what will you give me in exchange?”

 

“All that I am,” the boy answered, and ceased to exist.

 

(End of fic)