Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Suspended Within ❯ Part II : Years, Decades, Centuries ( Chapter 2 )

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Standard FFVII disclaimers apply
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Suspended Within

A FFVII fanfiction by Nefas

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Part II : Years, Decades, Centuries
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Wouldn't you give your all
For one little piece of dream?
What would you hand in return
For a taste of rare intoxication?

I would give my soul
If it meant for me to fly
I would give my heart
If I could live a life called 'mine'

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"C'mon, Cloud! Go spar with him! He won't eat you up, promise!"
Zack pushed the protesting Cloud into the wide hall where SOLDIERS and troopers alike trained in their fighting arts.

A stern glare from Cloud's opponent stunned the poor teenager, who could only gulp and look down at his feet.

Zack started laughing, loosening the whole tension in effect, which caused Cloud to turn his head back and growl at the first-class joker.
A tall man put down his long silver blade on a bench at the side of the hall and scrutinized his blond opponent from the tip of his spiky hair to the speck of dust on his boots.

"Cloud...is that your name?"

Cloud quickly stood in attention and saluted.

"Yes sir."

Zack whistled and pretended to look elsewhere as he slowly sidled to the entrance of the hall and excused himself, but not before winking at Sephiroth mischevously.

"I heard a lot about you from Zack." He definitely noticed that wink.

Cloud's heart lightened. "Really, sir?"

The older man took his white sweatshirt off and threw it on the bench, moist from the practice a while ago.

"Show me what you've got."

The commander of all SOLDIER was serious.

Cloud froze for a while, rearranging his thoughts.

//This is the only chance I've got to show the general what I have. I guess I'll have to take it. I'll never beat him...but...//

The silver haired man spread his footing, gaining a steady stance and held his fists up, before giving a command.

"Come."

Cloud snapped out of his mind, which was a distraction to him, and focused on what was at hand. If he would never get into SOLDIER, he would at least want to meet Sephiroth, and now he's got a sparring chance with his idol, no way he was going to let this chance of being noticed by the world's strongest man in the world go by.

//Even if it costs me my life...//

The blond trooper unbuttoned his top button of the shirt, and took a breath as deep as his trooper uniform allowed him to. Then he entered a stance like he would be in if he were holding the buster sword like Zack taught him to, except that wasn't holding any weapon.

With a firm determination set on his face, Cloud charged voicelessly at Sephiroth.

A hint of approval took the form of a smile on Sephiroth's features.

Cloud spotted that, and for the first time in hif life, he felt that he was being noticed.

He went wild, and kept delivering blow after blow to his opponent, not caring the least whether they struck their target. He just kept on fighting, not put down the least at all when a punch or kick was blocked. It was as if he was burning his life up into pure energy, as if it were to be his last fight of the century.

And his opponent respected him for that.

"Watch your sides when striking straight ahead!" A deep voice commanded as he countered a uppercut and gave a firm kick to Cloud's left rib. Cloud gasped, but his expression remained blank.

"Straighten your back, spread your footing more!"
The commander instructed, but soon noticed that whatever he said was not going into his trainee.

Cloud's empty expression was filled with a tinge of what seems to be estacy. Mad estacy. As if he planned to fight to his death, as if he was born to fight.

Then a blow struck the poor boy hard at the back of his neck.

The young boy went blinked, his mind not registering the pain his body received. He then struck out his fist and hit Sephiroth squarely in the shoulder.

Silver eyebrows frowned as pain shot through his clavicle for a second. A corner of the general's lips arched upwards in wry amusement from the unexpected force that came with the blow; he took a step back as a nasty bruise started well up on his shoulder.

And when Cloud's mind did receive the pain signals from the back of his neck, he blacked out and fell.

The long-haired man caught the falling youth and let him down slowly to the ground, laying him there. Had he struck too hard?

With a swift movement, Cloud's shirt came undone and the belt of his trousers loosened. Such uncomfortable and restricting uniforms Shinra gave their troopers - no wonder they were always so stiff and uptight.

After making sure that air was reaching the unconcious boy's lungs, Sephiroth grabbed his towel and sat down on the ground beside Cloud. Wiping the perspiration off his brow, the young general looked at the youth in the Shinra trooper's uniform.

Indeed, the young one had the calibre to match one of SOLDIER ranking, but only if he fought as wildly as this each time he had to. The shy, timid boy he saw right before they sparred would never get into SOLDIER. Shinra needed people who can kill in the top ranks of the army, and this boy looked like he'll never be up to the killing, but with time and experience...

"Perhaps you can put up a good fight with me a few years down the road," Sephiroth thought out aloud as he continued to stare at the unconscious lad, "though the peaceful expression you're having now just isn't the least convincing."

The shirtless general chuckled as he took a bottle of water and proceeded to wake the blond trooper up the traditional way.

Zack, at the entrance of the hall raised an eyebrow at the comment, and merely grinned his usual fare before walking off, whistling.

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"Cloud? What was it you wanted to talk about?" Vincent asked.

Cloud blinked. There was a crick in his neck and it ached. Then he realized he was leaning against the bricked wall when he fell asleep. Pressing a hand on his aching neck, he looked around, waiting for his senses to fully awaken.

Should it not be a hall which he was in?

Or was that all a dream as well?

He was a small room, in an inn of Kalm town.

A pair of blood-red eyes glanced at him, almost disinterested.

//Nope, Sephiroth doesn't have red eyes. Nope, not even if he cries, I bet, if he ever does.//

For a moment, Cloud shuddered at his own sudden thought of Sephiroth. He never knew Sephiroth and informality, much less humour, clicked. It was scary to even think of the possibility.

Thoughts rushing back to acknowledge Vincent's presence, Cloud ran a hand through his hair and shrugged a casual apology. "Sorry about that, I think I fell asleep."

"Sorry I woke you," the cloaked man returned the apology out of common courtesy as his amused expression obviously questioned, "you *think* you fell asleep?". With that, he went to the table beside at the window of the room and sat on the chair. His ex-leader followed suit and settled opposite him.

Cloud rested his chin on his hands, elbow propped up on the table.

"This might be kind of a sensitive question, Vince," he started.

"Do not worry."

"How old are you?"

"...27, I think. That's when I stopped growing."

"Stopped growing? What do you mean?" Cloud's curiousity was catching fire.

"Jenova cells. The day they merged with my own is the day I stopped aging...physically. Perhaps it's only the outward appearances; I believe I still age inside." Vincent was exceptionally calm, living true to his claim of being void of all emotions. He overturned two cups from the tray on the table offered to pour tea for Cloud.

Rich wind embraced the burning fire that was curiousity.
"I thought about it. From what I see, you've probably slept for about 30 years if you claim to have known Hojo before he was married."

"I think so too. Adding 27 to Sephiroth's age, give or take a little, should be how long I lived. However, I spent half my life in slumber without food and water, so I do not know if that is a factor to not my cells not aging."

"...how long will you live?" A meek voice sounded, afraid of intruding too deep into the red-eyed one's privacy.

Getting no reply immedietely, Cloud hesitated, not knowing what else to ask or if it was time to change the topic. The much older man opposite him gently nudged a cup of steaming tea over, which was gladly accepted as an excuse to stall for more thinking time.

Without warning, Vincent stretched out his right hand - the one of flesh and blood, and grabbed Cloud's wrist. Out of surprise, Cloud jerked his arm and the scalding tea spilled from his full cup onto their hands.

"Ow!" The youth hastily put down the cup and bent over, instinctively licking the side of his hand where it hurt.

Vincent seemed unnerved by the hot tea on his own hand, as if he had not even felt any pain at all. He gave Cloud one of the most intense glare he had ever dished out, his red eyes seemingly glowing.

Overpowered by the beast in Vincent's eyes, the had-been-savior of the world could only listen to what his companion had to say.

"It hurts, doesn't it?"

Cloud nodded dumbly.

"Feel it," the raven-haired man continue to grip Cloud's wrist firmly, the pulse beating steadily through it. "And tell yourself what you feel."

The pulse that vibrated through the blond's wrist was steady, and when that soft pulsating reached his heart and ears, it was almost soothing. Therapeutic, to a certain degree, to be living in a rhythm that is life.

Yet, there was unspeakable sadness that hung around these beats.

Then Vincent released his icy grip.

"You're alive. It's your life, not Jenova's or Sephiroth's. What you want to do with it is up to you, not them."

Cloud merely blinked, then flashed a gentle smile across the table as Vincent returned a smile in his own haunting manner together with a soft remark.

"It hurts me to live."

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A female gold chocobo warked as it sensed its master's shadow. Even for a chocobo, it wasn't at all difficult to recognise the owner of a shadow whose hair was wilder than a chocobo's tail.

"I'm taking you with me, Mika," came a quiet nasal voice.

Mika cooed, and nuzzled against the warm hand while being led out of her stable. The scent of the man who trained her into an S-class chocobo and that strange looking big sword on his back that resembled a giant squid were no strangers, thus Mika felt totally at ease.

The spiky-headed youth packed some tantel greens into his haversack and strode off with his well-trained stead, never to look back.

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It was early, not yet dawn.

Tifa stirred, and felt awkwardly in need of a glass of water. The dim light on the dressing table was gently illuminating the room with a warm yellow glow.

Tifa realised that someone had covered a blanket over her while she was asleep. Pulling off her bed covers, she got on her feet and sauntered across the planked floor.

A wisp of a breeze slipped through the half-opened window and caught something on the table.

There was something the wind caught - a thin piece of note paper with cursive, but neat handwriting. She bent down and picked up the paper and headed back to her bed. Reclining back on the still-warm bed covers beside the bedlight, the nightgown-clad girl rubbed her eyes and read what seemed to be some sort of letter.

"Dear Tifa,

I know this sounds cliche, but by the time you read this, I'll probably be far away. I don't know when I'll be back, so you don't have to wait for me. Please take care and don't worry about me."

The raven-haired girl's eyes started to moisten as she suddenly felt very alone.

"...Cloud..."

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By the yellow glow of a small bonfire, Cloud traced his finger on the cloth parchment on which the world map was drawn. One more full day's worth of travel would bring him to icy regions where he plans to cross.

"No more than a traveller now, no longer a hero, a warrior or a savior. There's just me. Just Cloud." The youth gave a wane smile, somewhat feeling relieved to be alone when he felt down.

Sitting on a damp log, Cloud fed the hungry fire a few more twigs. Leaning his chin on his hands which in turn leant on his lap, blue glowing eyes stared into the deep of the fire intently.

//I wish I knew more...about how my life was before I ended up in Hojo's hands. I wish I knew how exactly my life was when I was a trooper...I could remember the terrible feeling when I realized I didn't make it into SOLDIER, but there was something else. In my dreams, I actually felt happy at times, and not totally feeling worthless like I did after I had regained some of my memories some time ago.//

"Just why can't I remember the past?" Cloud sighed and attempted to justify himself. "Could there be anything that I would not want to see...?"

There was something else Vincent had brought up earlier that day.
"I see myself as a useless fool, unable to let go of the past, or of what I was. Sleeping to atone for my sins was no more than an excuse, when what I had really been doing was to escape from my own life. Had I not faced up to Lucrecia's death, and my unreachable past, I might have became insane with guilt and reproachment. Even as the years pass, the guilt would not go away."

Cloud had finally figured out why Vincent's words sound so familiar.
The dark man's account seemed no different than his own. Unable to face up to one's past, to oneself leading to insanity...was a path taken by himself once, in which he managed to make his way of the madness that crippled him with Tifa's help.

"The scars I have...would never fully heal.
Not in years, decades or centuries to come.
Not in my life."

Clinging on to Vincent's last words that hung around his mind, Cloud finally sank into a night of light dreams, which was never to be remembered in the morning; yet accompanied by a nostalgic feeling that lingered around the cold air which promised more to come.

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~ End Part II - Years, Decades, Centuries ~