Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sephiroth felt pleased with his work, witnessing the payoff as balance could finally return to the world. The universe was now back to its natural state. It had been quite simple, all he had to do was wipe the slate clean. Now he stood holding the power of the world, he was now ready to begin again. As fate had determined long before, Cloud stood nearby, as Sephiroth knew that nothing would be possible without Cloud becoming the hand of creation.

Cloud, meanwhile, wanted no part in this task.

He could, by all means, pull the strings and bend Cloud to his will, but sowing the seeds of union through control by force would not bear the fruits of devotion and willing submission. Renewal would simply fail to flourish under such conditions.

Cloud’s fleeting memories of destruction that plagued his mind would fade and all that would remain will be the blinding light on the edge of creation. Sephiroth did not mind waiting for him to come around. Past, present, and future converged here and time became meaningless which meant that that Cloud’s refusal to accept his teleology was meaningless as well. The Universe was still and balanced at its zenith. Cloud would come to understand this too. Infinite realities were now one.

He saw this and it was good.

He simply needed to wait.

Cloud would too.

- - - - -

“Cloud,”

“Cloud,”

“Nibelheim.”

Only the remnants and memories of the flames remained.

“You bastard. Why are we here?”

Sephiroth smiles rather than answering his question, pleased that his puppet had finally returned from his reverie.

“I asked what do you know about the soil that lies beneath your feet?”

“How is that relevant? Why are we here?”

“Patience, Puppet. I will explain,”

Cloud stood with a look of skepticism in his piercing glare.

“Go on, pick some up the black earth,”

Cloud finds himself doing as commanded, holding it up in the palm of his hand.

“Once in poor condition from overuse, the fire and ash have replenished it, which allows the potential of life to return to the soil. This land is now ready for renewal, for creation, Cloud.”

“There was life here! It was good! You destroyed it! You destroyed everything!”

“But that was then, and this is now,” He states calmly.

Cloud’s free hand is placed hovering above the other and as he draws his left hand back, a tiny seedling begins to sprout, growing and shifting into a budding flower, yellow petals unfolding and extending outwards. A yellow lily in full bloom. New life at dusk under the dark blue and green skies of the cosmos above them.

Aerith? Perhaps there was some way… maybe? No.

“Forever, the world will be built from your hand, Cloud,”

“No. Not like this,”

Cloud, you can save the planet, just trust me, okay?

Aerith?

No. It couldn’t be.

Cloud returns the flower to the ground, surprised by the faint aura of twinkling light emitted by the plant as it reconnected with the planet that would sustain it.

“This is just the beginning, Cloud,” Sephiroth smiles back with satisfaction.

“None of this is real, none of this is possible.” Cloud tries to subdue the trembling in his voice. “None of this is real!”

“What different does it make?” Sephiroth places one hand on Cloud’s should and holds the blonde’s wrist out, tracing his veins. “What you see, what your mind perceives, is meaningless. Nonetheless, I will guide your hand as we rewrite creation,”

And so Cloud did, soon one flower became hundreds of flowers dotting the landscape in brilliant colours, he found himself watching as wildflowers took roots amidst the growing grasses in the fields of the valleys, reeds and cattails dotted rivers at winded through the mountains leading to areas where saplings could take route and would one day turn into old trees, destined to become ancient forests.

Sephiroth had tasked him with other duties such as constructing a small house out of materials he could salvage from the remains of dilapidated buildings. Cloud looked at Sephiroth like he was insane for asking this of him. Although, he wondered if there wasn’t much use in being surprised by any requests from the one who had tasked him with recreating life on the planet.

“You are quite adept, and you learn quickly, you will succeed.” He said simply.

A modest cottage was quickly built, and Cloud spent parts of the day tending to its upkeep and fashioning furnishings from whatever he could find partly out of boredom, weaving baskets out of reeds, mindlessly carving wood into objects with no use. He gave up on making anything from clay not long after getting started. He knew he definitely needed to find new hobbies after completing the thirty-seventh basket.

Meanwhile, Sephiroth would vanish and return with a random assortment of items.

“Books, from Shinra Manor,” Sephiroth said as he arranged a stack of books onto a shelf “Truly enlightening reads, I highly recommend them.”

“Enlightening is definitely one way to put it,”

- - - - -

“What’s that?”

“Clothing.”

“What for?”

“Don’t tell me you are planning on wearing the same set of clothing every day for millennia to come,”

“It’s worked for me so far,”

“That won’t do, Cloud,” Sephiroth replies handing him a bundle of clothing. “Get dressed,”

“I don’t need the damned clothes.”

“Undress Cloud, hand me the clothes you are currently wearing,”

He found himself doing as told without a thought in his head until he stood bare and denuded before Sephiroph, horrified at the realization that his hold on him seemed to somehow grow stronger, even though he was certain the walls in his brain had been refortified and now near impenetrable against him.

How could it have gotten stronger?

“Get dressed,”

Moments pass in complete silence, until Sephiroth hears Cloud mutter “You Bastard,”

“Something wrong dear?” Sephiroph responds, voice piqued with amusement.

“These are dresses.”

“I suppose they are,” He admits.

“Let me guess, this was all that you could find?” Cloud rolls his eyes.

“Of course not, I can find and create anything. These are the ones I decided on giving you.”

“Prick,”

“If you prefer to go without, I do not mind,”

“Not interested,”

The clothes themselves were lightweight linen dresses far simpler than the one he had worn the last time. Simple embroidered flowers lined the collar, cuffs of the sleeves, and trim of the skirt that went just below his knees in length. It was a nice dress, and it fit perfectly albeit definitely not his style or colour.

“Really, an apron?”

“You do a lot of housekeeping, I figured it might be of use to you,”

“How considerate,”

Sephiroth’s facial expression shifted ever so slightly so that it looked like he was almost smiling. Cloud paid him no mind focusing on tying the apron around his waist, before buckling the straps of the black heeled toed dress shoes.

“You look stunning,”

“I’m aware.”

“Don’t you mean to say Nailed it, I know. Thank you. Moving on?”

Of course he somehow knew about that.

There was one benefit to heels that he particularly enjoyed, Cloud thought to himself, waiting for the right moment before quickly swinging his leg, and swiftly kicking the other man’s inner thigh with his shoe.

“Oh Cloud, you always make everything so enjoyable for me.”

- - - - -

As dawn was breaking, Cloud found himself sitting and watching the world slowly awake as the sun rose over the jagged rock spires that gave way to mountains that pierced the skies above. It was eerily quiet, all that broke the silence was the frigid air brushing against the pine and fir trees that bordered the foot of the mountains. The grasses that wavered along the valley floors bowing to the mercy of the wind.

Cloud couldn’t decide whether it was the stillness that made him miss the cacophony of the world that once was or if it was that he had become more accustomed to wielding the power of creation that Aerith had gifted him. The strange exhilarating feeling he was left with, the more he brought more life back into the world, continued to embolden him, wanting to restore that brilliant cacophony.

He decided now was time to bring back that cacophony piece by piece. Not long after, the world was now awake with the sound of three tiny chocobo chicks with plumage of gold. He immediately grew fond of them had cobbled together a wooden fenced area for the chocobos to stay in to keep them safe and secure. Even if they currently had no natural predators by the grace of being the only creatures currently existing, he couldn’t be sure that they were free from danger.

“Now stay, okay?” he told them as he latched the gate shut before deciding on heading back home. As he reached the door, he felt a small nudge against his leg.

“Huh?”

A small cheep responded to his confusion before he could turn around and see the waddling chocobo chicks that had followed him back home, in single file formation.

“Hey, I said stay there,” Cloud reminded them. He could tell they could understand but it was clear to him from the look in their eyes that they would pay no mind to his order.

“I mean it,”

Two of the chicks soon perched on each of his shoulder, with the third one, the smallest of the three, flapping its wings with great determination, trying to follow suit. After a few attempts, the tiny chick contently nestled itself in his hair.

The door to the house creaks open, and in the doorway stands Sephiroth, seeming amused at the sight that greeted him.

“I see you are creating life in your image, Cloud,”

“Haha, very funny,”

The chicks fail to get the memo every time he returned them, they would follow him back. Eventually, he relented and let them stay with him.

- - - - -

“Happy Birthday, Cloud,”

“My birthday?” Cloud questioned aloud. He had long lost track of the day having no idea just how much time had truly passed.

“Perhaps it is. Or maybe it’s not. Four days could have passed, or perhaps four hundred years. It is of no use to me. Time is only meaningful for those shackled with the chains of mortality.” Sephiroth sets a package wrapped neatly in brightly patterned paper, finished off with a large bow and a tag that read To: Cloud From Sephiroth. “I have a wonderful present for you,”

“Mm,”

“Curious as to what may be inside, Cloud?”

Nope, not interested in whatever intangible concept is supposedly in that box. Let me guess, what is it this year? Despair?”

Years go by, life with Sephiroth continues, astonishing Cloud with its surprising mundanity. The only battles fought were the ones where they both stood determined to best the other in combat or arguments regarding which sword would be more suitable as a bread knife. Cloud finds himself seeking the presence of the only one in his world, who was close to human, and soon becomes familiar with the pleasures of his bed.

- - - - -

Determined to hold on to the memories that seemed to be fading like shooting stars, Cloud treks out alone in search of clarity. He stands at the shores at the edge of the continent watching as the tides roll in and out as if sprinting to reach further inland before the ocean forced the waves back in retreat. He looks out at the distance staring into the past and he comes to a realization that in this moment, the world was just about to begin a second day, the centuries that had passed were simply the last moments before dawn.

He had brought life back in the world but there was so much missing, everyone he loved and cared about was gone. They couldn’t be lost forever; he could feel their life force. It felt wrong holding on to such a presence, he had to return it back to world as it once had written before the book was erased. Cloud had no idea how, but he had to, and Aerith’s voice seemed to whisper among the sound of crashing waves in encouragement.

He picks up a small amount of the sand on the beach and holds it out, remembering the way he had let the first yellow lily come to life in the palm of his hand, there had to be away.

They weren’t gone forever.

There had to be a way.

Creation without end renders all devoid of meaning. I am the strength that holds you back. I will preserve meaning. a voice in his mind seemed to correct him.

A hand reaches for his shoulders.

A presence all too familiar.

The sand trickles down from between his fingers returning back to the planet beneath him.

“Not yet.”

Like the tides brought back to the ocean, Cloud returns once again to him.