Chapter Text
"Watch your feet, Denzel," Cloud called. "You've gotta keep them apart or your balance will be compromised."
Denzel stifled a grunt of frustration. He really was excited that Cloud was training him how to fight and even letting him use First Tsurugi today, but did he have to be so critical? The incessant nagging was really starting to get to him.
Still, he bit his lip and tried to focus on what Cloud was telling him. He endured when Cloud kicked at his feet to move them into the right position and adjusted his grip. He did want to be as good as his mentor someday, but he was impatient to get to the fun stuff. Why couldn't he just learn these things as he went along?
“Ready position,” Cloud ordered.
Denzel recited the lessons in his head. Left foot forward. Knees bent. Weight on the balls of your feet. Elbows close to the body. 45 degree angle to the ceiling.
Cloud casually walked up and smacked Denzel’s sword with an easy swing. Denzel watched with dismay as his weapon went flying. Again.
“Any time your hands get out of position, I’m going to disarm you,” Cloud said conversationally. “They’re too close together. Don’t bother trying to strike until your grip is ingrained.”
Denzel scowled and turned to run after his sword. Cloud sighed. “Denz, you know you can't turn your back on your opponent like that."
Gathering the sword with his face turned away, Denzel frowned. Cloud had reminded him of this countless times, but this time, frustrated and irritable as he was, it sounded like nails on a chalkboard. "It's just you, Cloud. You're not going to hurt me." Holding it loosely in one hand, he turned around, unprepared to be leveled by Cloud’s ice blue gaze.
"I thought you wanted to learn for real, Denzel. Or are we just playing?"
Denzel flinched. He really didn’t want Cloud to think he wasn’t serious. "Sorry, Cloud. I do want to learn. This is just frustrating."
Cloud softened. “Maybe we should switch back to a practice sword,” he said, eyeing the giant fusion sword. “I think it’s still a bit too heavy for you. You’re getting sloppy with your grip and stance.”
"No way!" Denzel protested. “I can do it.” He felt the strain in his arms when he lifted it into position, but he wasn't sure when or even if Cloud would ever let him use his hallowed sword again. It had taken forever to convince him to try it in the first place; Cloud always said that training put too much wear and tear on the blade, and it was a pain to clean besides. "Can you show me how to split it? I want to be able to switch between them like you do.”
Cloud frowned. "Mm. No. Not until you get your grip right. Let's do it again. Ready."
Denzel smothered the groan and moved into position. They drilled again and again: hands, feet, positions, movement, flow. He wondered if his enemy – assuming he was ever allowed to actually use these skills – would obligingly cycle through these positions for him.
He was relieved when Tifa finally popped her head into the practice room. "You guys hungry?"
Cloud looked up at her. "We're still—"
"Starving!" Denzel interrupted, passing the sword to Cloud as he ran by.
"Denz, you can't just leave it—”
But Denzel ducked out the door before he heard the rest of it. His arms already felt like jelly. He was hot and sweaty and cranky and desperately needed to get out of there. Besides, he really was hungry, and the smell of Tifa’s mutton stew had wafted into the training room when she opened the door. How could he resist the lure of that smell? He was only human.
Marlene wove deftly through the sea of customers, clutching her empty dish bin to her chest. Seventh Heaven was insanely busy that evening. Yuffie had flaked out on her shift and Cloud was still out making deliveries, which left Marlene to clear tables and try to help Tifa keep up with the rush. Denzel was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and helping out with the cooking where he could.
As usual, the people meandering around the bar barely noticed her. Although she was already ten years old, she was short for her age. With her small stature, wide eyes, and sweet voice, she was often underestimated by adults. She was not above using this to her advantage. They assumed they could talk over her head and she wouldn't understand. On the contrary, behind her innocent front was an extremely sharp, observant mind. She blended into the world of adults seamlessly, which may have been the reason that it was harder for her to fit in with kids her own age.
She wrinkled her nose as she passed Mr. Keenan’s table and climbed onto the seat of the unoccupied booth next to him. He was sitting with a man she didn’t recognize, smoking his stinky cigars. She set the bin on the table and began scooping up the dirty dishes and piling them in the bin.
“Tifa! Hey, Teef! Over here!” Mr. Keenan raised his hand and signaled to the barmaid.
Marlene tilted her head to one side, keeping one ear open to the next booth over as she continued cleaning the table.
“Hi Jameson,” she heard Tifa say pleasantly. “What can I get for you?”
“Tifa Lockhart,” Mr. Keenan said grandly. “I wanted to introduce you to my cousin, Igor.”
Marlene ducked under the table and moved to the opposite side of the booth so that she could see the interaction while she cleared the table. She scowled when she noticed Mr. Keenan’s hand resting on Tifa’s lower back.
Tifa took a step closer to the stranger, out of range of Mr. Keenan’s hand. It slipped from her back as she greeted him. “Nice to meet you, Igor. Are you new in town?”
Marlene studied the stranger. Under his dark, buzz-cut hair, he had small, beady eyes, thin lips, and a sharp nose that twitched incessantly. He reminded her of a rat. A hungry rat.
“Oh, no, just visiting,” the other man stated. He had a raspy voice that perfectly suited his rat-like face. “Jay said he would show me around.”
“And if you’re getting the grand tour of Edge, you must visit Seventh Heaven,” Mr. Keenan announced. “Best burgers in the city, and the service is sublime .”
Tifa smiled at him. Marlene rolled her eyes. He was so over the top about everything .
“Lovely place you’ve got here, ma’am,” the rat-man said obediently.
“Thank you,” Tifa said, turning her attention to the other man. “Can I get you anything?”
“How about a round of your top shelf whiskey?”
“And a couple of those burgers,” Mr. Keenan added. “You can’t leave Edge without trying one,” he said, looking back at his cousin.
“Coming right up,” Tifa said, and then slipped into the crowd.
“Hot damn, bro,” Igor said, leaning over the table and lowering his voice. “She is smokin’! Please tell me you’re hittin’ that.”
“Come, now, don’t be so crass about my Tifa,” Mr. Keenan said, but he chuckled indulgently. “She’s a childhood friend, you know. I ran into her by chance in Midgar about five years ago.”
“And you still haven’t sealed the deal?”
“Of course not,” Mr. Keenan replied. “I had Marcy and the boys already. But of course Tifa and I reconnected immediately. She was a great comfort after…”
“Marcy’s accident,” the cousin supplied.
“Yes.” Mr. Keenan looked down at the table, and Marlene grudgingly felt a little bad for him.
“I was real sorry to hear about that,” Igor said. “But…it’s been a few years now. Time to get back in the saddle, man.”
“Mm,” Mr. Keenan agreed. “I’m working on it,” he said, his eyes following Tifa’s movements behind the bar. “But Tifa’s so soft-hearted, you know. She took in a stray and he’s…filling her head with—”
He stopped speaking abruptly when Tifa returned to the table with their drinks. “Here you are, gentlemen.”
“Thanks, sweetheart,” Mr. Keenan said, patting her arm.
Marlene kept her head down, dragging out the process of wiping down the table. Tifa noticed her and raised her brows questioningly, but said nothing. Then she left the table, and both men craned their necks to watch her walk away.
“Well hell, man, get rid of the stray,” Igor wheezed.
“I’d love to,” Mr. Keenan said gruffly. “But he’s got this whole town fooled into thinking he’s some kind of hero.” He scoffed. “My ass. The way he struts around this place–”
Marlene tossed the washcloth into the bin with the dirty dishes and climbed out of the booth. She couldn’t dilly-dally any longer now that Tifa had seen her, and she wasn’t likely to get any new information from this conversation anyway. Once Mr. Keenan got on the subject of Cloud, he could rant for hours.
As expected, neither of the men took notice of her as she passed by their table. She returned to the kitchen with her filled bin and started depositing the dishes in the sink.
“Incoming!”
Marlene spun around and opened her mouth, catching the carrot slice between her teeth. Denzel grinned. “You’re getting really good at that.”
Marlene folded one arm at her waist and bowed deeply. She ought to be good at it after all the times they’d practiced. He’d started changing it up, trying to catch her off-guard. He hadn’t succeeded yet.
“Busy out there?” Denzel asked, resuming his chopping.
“Crazy,” Marlene confirmed. “I just bussed the only empty table.”
Just then, Tifa popped open the swinging door with her elbow, just enough to lean her head in. “I need two more burgers, Denzel.”
“On it,” Denzel said cheerfully, immediately abandoning his chopping.
Marlene sat down at the table in the kitchen to watch him work, swinging her legs merrily. “Mr. Keenan says we serve the best burgers in the city,” she commented. “I guess most of the credit for that goes to you.”
Denzel grinned as he separated out some ground meat. “Really? Cool. They are pretty good, aren’t they?”
“Ok, don’t get ahead of yourself, burger boy. He was mostly trying to suck up to Tifa.”
“But he could’ve complimented anything ,” Denzel said. “So there must be some truth to it, right?” He popped open the seasoning and began shaking it over the meat. “Maybe I should become a professional chef. Open my own restaurant.”
Marlene shook her head wearily. “You make me regret ever giving you a compliment, Denzel.”
By the time Denzel had the patties ready for cooking, Tifa popped her head in again.
“Marlene, I need fifteen cleaned.”
Marlene sighed dramatically and picked up her bin. “I swear this is child labor. There must be some kind of law against this.”
Even though he hadn't been allowed to split the fusion sword, Denzel could hardly wait to tell his friends about it. After all, even in one piece it was a massive beast of a sword. They would have to be impressed that he could wield it at all.
Walking to school the next morning, he spotted the twins, Jason and Jesse, ahead of him.
"Hey guys, wait up!" Denzel called.
The boys looked back and waited as he jogged to catch up to them. "Hey Denzel," Jason said with a friendly smile.
Denzel only made it three steps before he had to tell them his news. "Hey, you guys remember how I told you that Cloud was training me to fight with swords? Well last night, I got to use First Tsurugi! It's this huge sword, almost as big as me, super heavy, and it can be split into 6 smaller swords. It's so cool."
Jesse scoffed. "That's the dumbest thing I ever heard. Why would anyone even need that? You can only use one sword at a time. Why would you need six? Does Cloud have six arms from all that mako or something?"
Denzel frowned. "Don't be stupid. Of course he only has two arms. He can use them both though, so sometimes he uses two swords at a time."
"Ok, fine, he can use two swords," Jesse said dismissively. "What's he gonna do with six?"
"Well, sometimes he—"
"And what's with his name?" Jesse continued. " Cloud. Is he light and fluffy?"
"It's…just a name," Denzel muttered. This conversation was not going at all the way he planned. "It's not like he picked it out himself. Anyway, who cares about that! Pretty soon I’m going to be helping him fight monsters. I bet he’s gonna teach me how to use materia next.”
“He still uses that stuff? Even after the reactors and the geostigma and everything?” Jason asked pointedly.
“Well…yeah. I mean…what does that have to do with anything?”
The twins exchanged a glance. “Maybe you should ask Cloud about it. He is the expert on mako, right?” Jesse said.
They finally reached the school, and Denzel was relieved to have an excuse to get away from them. What's their problem today, anyway? They weren't usually quite so bitter, but they always seemed to get a little salty whenever Cloud came up.
Because Denzel had run off and left the swords without cleaning or oiling them, Cloud had told him he wouldn't be allowed to use Tsurugi until he 'learned to take care of his things.' He had handed Denzel a beat-up practice sword and went back to their drills. Denzel was annoyed and impatient, making beginner mistakes on things that he should have already mastered.
After a short practice, where both became increasingly irritated with the other, Cloud knocked the sword from his hand with more force than usual and stopped Denzel before he could retrieve it. "Your head's not in this today, Denz. There's no point in practicing right now." With a stern look, he held his practice sword out to his ward. "You owe me for last time. Clean these up right."
Denzel took the sword with a scowl, sticking his tongue out at Cloud's back as he left the room. He knew it was childish, something a 12-year-old shouldn't be doing, but he didn't care. He was fuming. He dragged his feet across the soft dirt floor and glared at the worn-out practice sword that had been knocked from his hand. Didn't Cloud remember what it was like to be a kid? He didn't have to be so hard on him all the time.
He swung half-heartedly at the sword on the ground with the one in his hand. It made a satisfying clang sound. Denzel always seemed to be on the receiving end of that sound, usually losing his grip on the handle whenever he heard it. It felt good to be the one sending out the vibrations of the clashing metal. He swung harder, sending the sword flying into the wall. He imagined that it was a real battle, that the battered sword was an actual monster, and he smacked it around the room with his own sword.
The monster roared in pain with each well-placed strike. He swatted at Denzel, but the deadly swipes were easily dodged. Denzel rolled between the monster's legs and made another perfect slash on its belly, then pounced on its back, knocking it down with a hard smack of the hilt on its head.
The fight raged across the battlefield. The beast was fast and vicious, but Denzel was faster and smarter. They traded blow after blow, smacking into walls, rolling through the dirt, flying through the air, until finally, Denzel landed the critical strike. The beast went down, but it wasn’t over yet. Before it could get up, Denzel pounced. He stabbed and slashed, pounding the battered creature to a pulp on the ground with a satisfying cacophony of sound. He raised his arms over his head in victory and danced around the fallen beast.
Smiling at his own imaginary fight, Denzel found that some of his anger had abated. He picked up the swords and took them into the back room to clean them. Despite his frustration, he really did want Cloud to be proud of him. He thoroughly cleaned and oiled the blades as he had been taught. As he was finishing the second sword, his cloth caught on something. Peering closer, Denzel tensed when he saw the small chip in the materia slot in the base of the blade. He swore out loud, knowing that neither of the adults were near enough to hear him. He probably shouldn't have been batting the sword around like that.
Who cares? he thought. Why does Cloud have to be so picky about them anyway? He has so many. I bet he won't even notice. He felt some of his anger returning. And he'll probably never let me practice with materia anyway, at the rate we're going. Even so, Denzel put the sword up on to the rack with the materia slots facing the wall. Just in case.
It had been several months since Denzel had committed his transgression with First Tsurugi. He had all but given up hope of being allowed to use it again when Cloud walked out of the back room with the giant sword in his hand. Denzel watched him hopefully. Cautiously, his mentor offered the hilt to him. His eyes lit up as he took it reverently.
"You're letting me use it today? Awesome! I swear I'll take good care of it, Cloud. I'll clean it up really good and everything." He held the sword up steadily and bounced on the balls of his feet.
Cloud nodded. "I know you will. But remember, you'll have to separate all 6 blades and clean them individually."
"Does that mean you're going to teach me how to split it?" The eagerness was overflowing.
His lips quirked. "I suppose I'll have to, won't I?"
Denzel was almost bursting out of his skin with excitement.
Cloud knelt down behind him and reached around to show him how to release them. "Ok. The first latch is right here. This will let you take off the smaller side blades." Cloud popped it off easily, catching both blades with his free hand. "See? And then to put it back together –" he snapped them quickly back in place. "Now you try."
At first, Denzel was confident. He pulled at the latch he'd seen Cloud use, but it didn't budge. He gritted his teeth, pulling harder. "It's stuck!"
Cloud reached over and snapped it easily. "Like that."
Snapping them back into place, he held it out to Denzel again. Denzel was careful to position his hands exactly the way Cloud did. He used all of his strength, cognizant of the man watching him closely.
"Maybe you're not quite strong enough yet," Cloud said.
Although he'd said it kindly, tears burned behind Denzel's eyes. Embarrassment ate away at him and he redirected his frustration, suddenly furious at the glowing blue eyes. "Of course it's easy for you!" he spat.
Taken aback, Cloud raised his eyebrows.
Denzel's eyes narrowed on his. "I know why your eyes glow the way they do. Jesse told me. He said that people who were in SOLDIER got mako injections to make them stronger and faster. He said they don't do them anymore though, so no one else can even touch those people. I'm never gonna be as strong as you, no matter how much I practice! I shouldn't even bother." He shoved the sword back at Cloud and stalked out of the room, determined not to let him see the tears.
He pounded up the stairs and closed himself in his tiny bedroom, wanting to be alone for a while. At least he didn't have to share it with Marlene anymore. Cloud had insisted on putting up another wall last year, splitting the small room into two and adding a second door from the hallway. He had told Tifa it wasn't appropriate for them to share a room anymore. He had given her that look, and Tifa seemed to understand whatever Cloud was saying with his eyes. Denzel really hated when they did that – communicated without words. They understood each other, but neither of the kids ever did. As far as Denzel was concerned, if they needed to say something private to each other, then they should be talking in private.
Denzel had begged to be given Cloud's office. Cloud always slept in Tifa's room now anyway. But Tifa said they still needed the office, and that adults needed space to themselves sometimes, too. Cloud had given him a little smile and told him he could sleep in there whenever it wasn't being used. It wasn't the same though. It wasn't Denzel's own space.
At least in his tiny room he could have some privacy without Marlene barging in. He plopped down on the bed and grabbed his headphones, blasting the loudest, angriest music he had. It fueled his anger as he ruminated about how unfair life was. Why was he even bothering to learn this stuff? He'd never use it for real, and there was no way he would ever be as strong or as good as the hero who had saved the planet. What was the point?
By the time Cloud poked his head in the door, Denzel was even more worked up. He ripped the headphones off. "Don't you know how to knock?" he demanded rudely.
From the look on Cloud's face, Denzel knew he had gone too far. Cloud wasn't terribly strict, but he didn't tolerate disrespect. Denzel shrank back. "Sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to snap at you."
Rubbing his face wearily, Cloud sighed. "It's ok. And for the record, I did knock. You probably just couldn't hear it over…that." He nodded in the direction of the headphones with a scowl. Denzel knew Cloud could hear every poisonous lyric, and the disapproval on his face was clear. He didn’t say anything about it, but he reached over and flipped it off. Denzel smothered the new tendril of irritation. Why did he have to barge in here and touch all his stuff?
"So…do you want to talk about this?" Cloud asked tentatively, settling on the foot of the bed.
Denzel scoffed. "What's there to talk about? It's not like we can change anything. Even if I train every day, I'm never gonna be strong like you." His stomach burned as he glared up at Cloud. "You have no idea what it feels like to try so hard and always fail."
Cloud looked surprised. "You're not failing at anything, Denz. You're learning fast. Really fast. But it takes time and practice to get really good at something."
Denzel scowled. "Not for you. I bet everything was always easy for you."
Cloud let out a huff that was almost a laugh and looked down at Denzel's dark blue quilt. Tifa had spent months making it for his last birthday, and he'd been thrilled to finally get rid of the childish bedspread that matched Marlene's. Cloud ran his hands over it absently.
“Denzel, I—” He shook his head, appearing to struggle with what he had to say. "Did I ever tell you that I used to get picked on when I was a kid?"
Denzel's eyes grew wide. Who would be stupid enough to pick on Cloud Strife? "Did they have a death wish?"
Cloud chuckled lowly. "Nah. I wasn't much of a threat back then. I was a lot smaller than the other kids. I didn't have many friends either. They all…thought I was weird." The look in his eyes was distant as he traveled into his past. "By the time I was your age, I couldn't wait to get out of town. I wanted to prove I wasn't the weakling they thought I was."
Denzel was still skeptical. "But you made it into SOLDIER! Didn't you have to be like… the best of the best to get in?"
Cloud smiled sadly as he picked absently at the quilt. "Yeah. Only the top one percent got in. That's why…" he took a deep breath and caught Denzel's eye, "I never made it."
Denzel stared at him in disbelief. Cloud and Tifa's friends made references to him being a SOLDIER all the time. In retrospect, he couldn’t remember Cloud himself ever saying it, but he'd never made a point to set the record straight, either.
Cloud looked wistful. "I worked so hard. I think I wanted it more than anyone else there. I spent so much extra time training while the others were goofing off. I was pretty good with my sword, but I didn't have the strength or size to join SOLDIER." He shrugged. "Maybe if I'd have a few more years, but…"
His eyes darkened for a moment and he shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. "Anyway, the point is, it took me a lot of work and a lot of years to get to where I am. And if you want to get there, it will for you too. I'm not going to go easy on you, because I can see you have potential, but you'll never reach it if you don't push yourself. So…just hang in there, ok?"
Grudgingly, Denzel allowed a small smile. "Ok. I guess so."
Cloud reached over and ruffled his hair, the same way he had since Denzel was small. Denzel wrinkled his nose and pretended to be annoyed as always, but if he were being honest, he would be upset if Cloud ever stopped. Cloud didn’t show affection in a lot of ways, not the way Tifa did, but that touch always felt warm and full of love.
After Cloud let himself out of the room, Denzel put his hands behind his head and leaned back on the bed. He tried to imagine Cloud being small and weak, or anyone daring to pick on him, but he just couldn't see it. Was he really telling the truth, or just trying to make Denzel feel better? And if he didn't get into SOLDIER, why did his eyes have that mako glow?
He was starting to feel that itch in his head, so Denzel pulled out his sketchpad. He flipped to a clean page and started a new drawing. It was Cloud, looking as vibrant and powerful as ever, but with a red tinge to his normally bright blue irises. His hands were held out, palms up, with a tongue of flame resting on each one. Denzel smiled, thinking this one was easy enough to interpret. Cloud must be getting ready to teach him to use magic.
After their talk, Denzel felt much better about his training. He didn't mind as much when Cloud corrected him, and he found that it was easier to remember all the details when he let go of his anger.
He was getting much stronger, too, his body developing muscle tone, no longer resembling that of a child. He was 13 and tall for his age, nearly as tall as Cloud. The man who had taken him in had always seemed larger than life to Denzel, but he realized now that he wasn't very big at all. It was just his presence that made it seem so to the small boy.
He could now parry most of his mentor's attacks and he felt good about it. Even better was the day when they sat in the equipment room, cleaning up their swords together.
"You know," Cloud said, considering the boy solemnly, "I think you're ready to move on to some more advanced topics. What do you think?"
Denzel's eyes lit up. "Yes!" he cried emphatically. "Can we…uh, maybe start with materia?"
Cloud looked thoughtful. "Yeah, I think you're ready for it. Tifa should teach you though. She's a natural with materia. Learn how to use it from your bracer, and when you're ready, we can practice with it in our weapons."
"Yes!" He dropped his sword and clobbered Cloud with a hug, the first he'd given freely in a very long time. "Can I go ask her now?"
“Yeah, go ahead. I'll finish cleaning these up."
With a huge grin on his face, Denzel galloped out of the room to go find Tifa.
Tifa was a good teacher. She was also very patient, which was a good thing, because Denzel was trying her patience already. He was squirmy and unfocused. If he'd been working with Cloud, the session would have ended in frustration much earlier.
To Denzel's annoyance, Marlene had begged to be allowed in on the lessons too. Even though she was two years younger than him, even though he had spent over a year training before they would even consider letting him use it, the adults had decided she was ready to learn. She had accidentally used materia once, healing a cut on her hand when she'd been putting away some of Tifa's Cure materia. Cloud said she obviously had an affinity for healing magic, and since she was so mature for her age, they should start teaching her right away. It was so unfair!
"Try again, Denzel." Tifa's voice dragged his thoughts back to the present. The three of them were sitting cross-legged on the floor of the training room, facing each other, but Denzel had far too much energy to sit still.
"I can't," Denzel groaned, letting himself fall back and sprawl out on the floor. It was a hot day, and the windows of the training room were open, letting in a slight breeze to cool the stifling heat. He could smell food being cooked somewhere and his stomach growled loudly. He heard Cloud working on Fenrir out back and kids arguing loudly nearby. "There are too many distractions to do this right now."
Tifa considered him thoughtfully. "Denzel, you wanted to learn how to use materia in battle. Do you really think your enemy will sit quietly and wait for you to calm your mind? You need to learn to control yourself, especially when you're distracted. In a fight, you may have only seconds between attacks. You may need to cure yourself when you're in a lot of pain. You may need to keep fighting even when it looks like your friends have been mortally wounded. Learn to quiet the noise in your head and listen ."
Denzel sighed and sat up. He closed his eyes, taking up the lotus position she had taught him.
"Your mind should be completely blank, so you almost forget about the materia completely," Tifa said. "When it's that clear, you should be able to hear the voices from the Lifestream."
One of Denzel's eyes popped open. "How do you know when you're hearing them?"
Tifa looked thoughtful as she decided how best to describe it. "To me, it sounds more like a crackle, like crinkling cellophane.. I don't understand the words, but I know it's them."
So far, Denzel hadn't heard a peep from the Lifestream. Marlene sat there quietly, presumably listening intently to the voices speaking to her. She opened her eyes and looked at Denzel. "I can practically feel the frustration coming off of you in waves."
He gave her an evil glare, but she was undeterred.
"You know what I do when I need to calm down?" she asked cheerfully. "I think about that day in Costa Del Sol with Cloud and Tifa and Daddy and all of their friends. You remember that day?"
The memory made Denzel smile. "Yeah. We played volleyball on the beach. Yuffie tried to cheat and use magic to coat the ball in ice, and then when she tried to spike it, the whole thing just shattered."
"Yep," Marlene giggled. "Then we buried Daddy in the sand and made a huge castle on top of him and told him he couldn't move because he would break it."
“Which he immediately did,” Denzel pointed out. “And then Cloud tried to teach us how to swim, but he really didn’t know how to do anything but doggy paddle."
"And then we got on Cloud and Daddy's shoulders and played chicken!" Marlene said.
Tifa joined in, laughing. "I remember that! Those two were so competitive that they kept demanding rematches, until the two of you got bored and left, and then they kept going by themselves."
By the time Tifa and the kids finally stopped laughing, Denzel had totally forgotten his frustration with meditation. Marlene brought his attention back to it. "Ok, now the important part. I think about that night, when we all sat on the beach under the stars and watched the waves rolling in. The adults were drinking beer and talking, and they let us stay up late with them. Do you remember?"
“Of course.” Denzel closed his eyes and let the memories roll over him.
The air was finally beginning to cool after the long, hot day. Cloud was sitting on the sand with his arms resting on his bent knees, and Denzel sat in front of him, between his legs. The adults' conversation was boring him and the lull of the waves were making him sleepy, and he started to slump against one of the legs bracketing him. Cloud leaned forward and spoke softly in his ear. "Getting tired, buddy?" Denzel shook his head and sat up straight, afraid they would make him go inside and go to bed, but after a few minutes, he was slouching against the leg again. Cloud straightened his leg, letting the sleepy boy slump down with it. Denzel stretched out on the sand, using his leg as a pillow, curling his arms around the muscular thigh. Cloud put a hand on his head, warm and heavy. It covered his ear and muffled the sound of the adults' voices into a comforting murmur. The last thing he remembered from that night was thinking that there was nowhere in the world safer than he was at that moment.
He smiled gently. The warmth of the memory spread like a tingle through his body. That's when he heard the scratching sound – the voices of the Lifestream.
Marlene stood back and watched Denzel throwing spells at the practice dummy, which was looking significantly worse for the wear.
She had to admit that he was better at offensive spells than she was. It really didn’t bother Marlene; she wasn’t nearly as competitive as Denzel and had no desire to attack any living creature anyway.
“Great job, Denzel,” Tifa said. “Are you ready for something different?”
Denzel’s face lit up. “Yeah! What’s next?”
Tifa pulled out a yellow stone, about the size of a golf ball.
"What's that?" Denzel questioned. It looked like materia, but up to that point they had only been working with green.
Tifa held it up for his inspection. "It's command materia. See, you can tell what type it is because of its color."
Denzel frowned. "Ok, so what does command materia do?”
Tifa shrugged. “Lots of different things. To figure out what, you have to learn to listen.”
“But if you can't understand the voices, how do you know what kind of materia it is?" Marlene asked.
Tifa put her finger to her lower lip and tapped it thoughtfully. "It's hard to explain. It's more of a feeling. You know how you can feel the different elements when you use the elemental materia?”
The kids both nodded.
“The feeling is similar, but you have to listen to it more deliberately. Once you get used to some different kinds, you'll start to recognize them."
“Can I try?” Denzel asked.
Tifa smiled and handed him the materia.
Denzel closed his eyes and sat quietly for several minutes. In the silence, Marlene could hear something that sounded like indistinct whispers. She frowned and tried to listen closer, but was never able to make out any words. Was that coming from the lifestream? It couldn’t be. She wasn’t even holding the materia.
Denzel finally got frustrated and opened his eyes. “I don’t know. I can’t tell what it does.” He passed it over to Marlene. “Here. You try.”
Marlene took the stone. The whispering got louder. It was still indistinct, meaning that she couldn’t hear actual words, but still it meant something to her. It was like it was urging her to do something. Giving her a lead that she only had to reach out and pull.
Unsure why she was doing it, Marlene lifted her hand. In his pocket. Right there. Something square. She knew the exact angle and speed she needed to get in and out before he could react. Swiftly, she stuck her fingers in Denzel’s pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“Hey!” Denzel protested, but Tifa clapped her hands with delight.
“Very good, Marlene!” Tifa said. “That one is ‘Steal .’ It works better if you’re quick or your enemy is slow, but almost anyone can steal with that materia.”
Denzel snatched the paper from her fingers, scowling. “That’s not very funny,” he said.
“Oh Denzel, don’t be bitter,” Marlene laughed. “You’ll get it, too.”
Cloud seemed pleased with Denzel’s progress. He was much more focused and committed now, and not so frustrated all the time. Their relationship was much less strained and they both enjoyed the training sessions more.
By the time his 13th year was coming to a close, Denzel had become pretty skilled with both the sword and the materia in his bracer. Cloud had drilled the basics into him until they were automatic, and Denzel grudgingly acknowledged that it was easier to focus on sword technique when his muscle memory handled those other details.
Finally, Cloud judged him ready to use materia in his weapon. He came to the equipment room with several of the small stones in his pockets. He tossed a green one to Denzel, along with a practice sword with a couple of slots. Denzel's eyes lit up. "We're going to use materia today?"
"If you want," Cloud said.
"Of course I want! I've been waiting for ages!"
Cloud nodded. "Good. The first thing you need to learn is Barrier." He showed Denzel how to slot it in his sword. "I want you to put up a magic barrier and I'll shoot some ice at you. It will still hurt a little if it hits you, but not bad. Ok?"
Denzel’s shoulders slumped. "I thought I was actually going to do something with magic."
Cloud talked over his shoulder as he walked into the training area. "You are doing something with magic. Just not attacking with it. Even an unstoppable offense is worthless if you never get a chance to use it."
Denzel dragged his feet all the way out to the practice room. It was another one of Cloud's meaningless platitudes of which he seemed to have an endless supply. He scowled but said nothing. Once they reached the center, he focused his mind and cast his shell. The air around him took on a shimmery glow. It took several seconds, longer than he would like, but at least it was up. "Ready."
Lifting the sword above his head with one hand, Cloud's face became a mask of concentration as the metal of the blade glowed blue. He swung the sword down lightly in Denzel's direction, sending a wave of blue along the ground. The ice spell was slow and low-powered, and Denzel was prepared for it, but the amount of the spell that made it past his barrier still stung more than he expected.
"Agh!" Denzel took a step back voluntarily, cringing as it hit him.
"You ok?" Cloud called.
"Yeah, just…that cold really stings." He shook his hands, trying to get feeling back into his fingertips.
His eyes hiding a smirk, Cloud asked, "Well why did you just stand there and let it hit you?"
Denzel blinked at him. "Wasn't I supposed to?"
"Of course not. If you can dodge out of the way in time you won't have to feel it at all."
Denzel scowled at him. "That would have been nice to know 5 minutes ago."
"I guess I figured common sense would kick in," Cloud laughed. He quieted when he saw the look on Denzel's face. "No, really, most people instinctively avoid pain." He shrugged and gave him a small smile. "Maybe you're braver than most."
After some consideration, Denzel decided to take that as a compliment.
"Now I'm going to launch several of them at you. Keep your shell up, but try to dodge out of the way if you can." Cloud raised the sword over his head again. Denzel bent his knees into the fighting stance that had been drilled into him.
Cloud's sword came down slightly faster this time, casting three ice spells in a row, a second apart in a wide arc. Denzel easily dodged those, so then he sent out 5 spells, a little closer together. Cloud started to vary the speed and distance as he continued lofting the light spells his way.
Denzel was ducking and rolling, avoiding the worst of the ice, but a few got past his barrier. He was starting to get worn out and losing the feeling in his fingers, so he called "Stop!" and dropped his barrier.
Cloud lowered his sword. "What's wrong?"
Denzel’s shoulders drooped. "My magic barrier must not be very good. I need to go thaw out."
Cloud shrugged. "Your barrier looks fine, but it's not meant to stop spells completely, only to dampen the effect. The good news is that you don't usually have to depend on shell alone, but it's good to have it up in case you can't dodge or block it."
"Block?" Denzel asked, perking back up. "How do you block magic?"
Cloud smiled at his renewed interest. "Let's take a break so you can thaw your fingers. Then I'll show you."
Denzel bounced around and wiggled his body to get the blood flowing back into the parts suffering from the worst of the ice. By the time Cloud came back and tossed him a bottle of water from the kitchen, Denzel was ready to go again.
"Feeling better?" Cloud asked as Denzel tipped back the water.
Denzel took several more swallows before lowering the bottle and wiping his face with the back of his wrist. "I guess so. The thing is, I was excited to be casting magic, not to have it cast at me."
"Hm," Cloud intoned. "So you're planning to do battle with a lot of trees, then?"
Denzel shot him a withering look. "Of course not. I mean, I knew it would hurt, but…"
"But now you're willing to go to a lot more effort to avoid getting hit at all?"
He shrugged. "Yeah. I guess so."
"Good," Cloud said approvingly. "Then you're ready to learn about blocking." He pulled a piece of materia out of his pocket and tossed it to Denzel. "Here. Put this in your other weapon slot."
Denzel caught the stone and listened as Tifa had taught him. "Fire!" Denzel exclaimed, perking up. " This is what I've been waiting for."
"You block by attacking with the opposite element," Cloud explained. "If the spells hit, they will cancel each other out instead of hitting you."
While the teen pressed the stone into the other slot in his sword, Cloud continued. "Now you launch some fire at me, and I'm going to block it with ice. Ready?"
Denzel lifted his sword above his head the way Cloud had shown him. The metal glowed red and he swung it at the ground in Cloud's direction. The red wave moved so slowly that Cloud barely had to flick his wrist to send out the small ice wave. The red and blue waves crashed into each other, sending a small plume of magenta into the air before fizzling out. It was not exactly awe-inspiring.
Scowling, Denzel repositioned himself and launched another red wave, swinging his arm down hard. It was larger this time, but it fizzled out before it even reached his opponent.
"Swinging harder won't make the spell travel any faster," Cloud coached him. "That has to be done with your mind. Hold it a bit longer so it builds up in strength before you bring the sword down. Move your body forward as you release it, not just your arm, and it will move faster."
Denzel nodded and focused on everything his teacher was telling him. He counted to three as he held it above his head, and then lunged forward as he released it.
His eyes widened as he watched the exponentially larger red wave shooting across the training room. Cloud flicked his wrist harder, matching the size of the fire spell with his ice. The magenta plume was spectacular that time, shooting high into the air.
Denzel whooped loudly at the brilliant display. When the light had died down and there was only a thin veil of smoke in the air, he looked over at his mentor. Cloud was just watching him with a slight curve of his lips, the tiny unguarded smile that Denzel so rarely got to see.
The smile was gone too soon, though. Cloud went back into business mode. They continued to practice casting and blocking, with some dodging thrown in when it was possible. He had told Denzel to dodge whenever he could, especially when the spell covered a smaller area, because he had a limited amount of energy to spend on casting spells.
Back in the equipment room at the end of their session, Cloud was explaining how they were able to keep track of how much energy they had left.
"When we were out on missions and fighting all the time, we came up with a number system to keep track of how much capacity we had each day. We called them magic points, and assigned point values to each spell, depending on how much it taxed your system, so that we could pace ourselves and make sure we didn't get too weak to cast when we were only halfway through the day."
Denzel looked at him like he was being deliberately dense. "Why wouldn't you just use ether?"
Cloud shrugged. "We did, but it was expensive and we didn't always have it. Even if we did, it was important to know how much capacity we'd used up and how much more we planned to use so we didn't waste it."
Denzel furrowed his brow. "Does everyone have the same…umm…capacity?"
Cloud kept his eyes on the blade he was currently oiling. "No, but we did it so often that we were able to figure out our own capacities. And of course we all got stronger over time so we were always adjusting the number."
"Sounds too much like math homework," Denzel complained.
He earned a quiet laugh from Cloud. "Believe it or not, Denz, you do actually learn some useful things in school."
Later that night, the kids sat at the table finishing their homework. Cloud and Tifa were in the kitchen together, getting dinner ready. Their conversation was a quiet murmur drifting under the swinging door. Marlene had set down her pencil and was staring dreamily into space.
"Uh, Marlene?" Denzel poked her arm. "What are you doing?"
"Shh! Just listen!"
Denzel sat quietly and listened for a few seconds before getting impatient. "I can't understand a word they're saying."
Marlene looked at him like he was being ridiculous. "The words don't matter, Denz, just listen to the tone!"
He closed his mouth and listened again. Their voices sounded happy, and their conversation was interspersed with laughter. It was a bit unusual. Cloud so rarely laughed, and he had never been the type to speak just to hear his own voice. Denzel shrugged and went back to his homework. "I guess they're in a good mood today."
Marlene continued listening, enjoying the warm feeling she was getting. She wondered if her parents had ever sounded like that. She had been too young to even remember them at the time they died, but she liked to imagine that they were happy and in love. Then it got completely quiet. It stretched into minutes, and she decided Cloud must have gone out the back door or upstairs and left Tifa to cook by herself. Since she would no longer be interrupting their happy conversation, it seemed like a good time to see if one of them could help her with the math problem she'd been stuck on before she started daydreaming.
She pushed open the swinging door and poked in her head. The words caught in her throat before she could make a sound. She was interrupting, but they weren't talking anymore. Tifa sat on the counter with the back of her head against the cupboard. Cloud stood in front of her, between her knees, with his arms wrapped around her. Tifa had one hand on his face and the other in his hair, and they were kissing. Not like a "have a nice day honey" peck, but a real smooch. A pan simmered on the stove, forgotten.
Marlene backed out quietly and returned to the table, smiling. Denzel looked up when she sat down. "How long until we eat? I'm starving."
"I don't know. I didn't ask," Marlene said casually.
Denzel sighed and got up, heading toward the kitchen himself.
"No, wait! Denzel, don't!" Marlene hissed as she chased after him.
She was too late. He smacked open the swinging door with his shoulder and strolled right in. Tifa banged her head on the cupboard, hard, and Cloud backed up so fast that he was halfway across the kitchen before Marlene even saw him.
Denzel stood there and blinked foolishly at them. "Uh…I was just um…are we going to eat soon?"
Cloud was leaning against the counter on the far side of the kitchen, trying to look casual, and Tifa's face was bright red as she cleared her throat and blinked rapidly. "Yes. Five minutes. Can you guys clear off the table please?"
"Sure…" Denzel said, turning around slowly. Marlene waited until the door had swung shut behind them before smacking him in the head.
Cloud slotted his materia in his sword and tossed one to Denzel. He listened to the stone for a moment. "You're giving me ice today?"
"Yeah," Cloud said. "They all feel a little different, so you should get used to them all."
Denzel shrugged and pressed the ice materia into his weapon.
"Show me how fast you can cast ice, Denz. The fire will hurt a lot more if you can't block it, so…"
Denzel nodded and sent several blasts of ice in Cloud's direction. They seemed to go a lot farther and faster than the previous day. “This is easier than fire,” Denzel said, grinning.
“Must be your natural element,” Cloud said. “Some people have an affinity with certain elemental spells. Are you ready?”
“Ready!”
Cloud sent a few lazy blasts of fire off and Denzel blocked them easily, his blue waves making it more than halfway between them before smashing into the red. "Good!" Cloud said proudly. "Your casting time is getting better, and that's important because your enemy won't always be so far away. Now take 3 steps toward me."
Gradually, they moved closer together, allowing less time to react with each step forward. Finally they were at striking distance again. Cloud put his sword up in an attack stance toward Denzel and motioned for the boy to do the same. "You can hit and cast at the same time. It's a devastating combination, very hard to block, but you have to be careful not to let the spell be misdirected when your sword strikes. Put up a magic barrier, just in case, and try it on me."
Denzel took a deep breath to steady himself, suddenly feeling nervous. "Are you going to try to block it?"
"No, not when we're this close." Cloud smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry about me."
Denzel held the sword over his head and listened for the scratching noises. He held it for a few seconds longer, letting it build, and then swung it down.
Cloud parried the strike, and Denzel had the satisfaction of realizing that for once he was on the giving side of that vibrating clang. He had also felt the ice leave his sword, and he was pretty certain it went the right direction. He looked up to see his trainer's reaction, expecting pride or approval, but the look on his face was startled, almost scared. Cloud's face was turning red and he dropped his sword, clutching a hand at his throat.
"Hey! Are you ok?" Denzel tried to grab his arm to get his attention, but Cloud didn't even look at him. He dropped to the ground on his hands and knees.
Denzel dropped down next to him. "Cloud? What's wrong? Cloud!" His eyes were bulging, unfocused. His face was getting alarmingly close to purple now and Denzel suddenly understood – he couldn't breathe! He tried not to panic. How was he supposed to help him? What could have caused it? Surely not his ice spell. Tifa. I have to get Tifa!
Denzel raced out into the bar area where Tifa was rewashing glasses that Yuffie had carelessly swiped at from the night before. "Tifa! Something's wrong with Cloud!"
Tifa didn't ask any questions. She dropped the glass she had been holding, ignoring the shattering crystal on the floor behind her, and sprinted in the direction from which Denzel had come.
He ran behind her, losing ground to her astonishingly fast pace, but it didn't matter. She knew where to find Cloud. As Denzel burst through the training room a few seconds behind her, he heard the sound of Cloud's jagged coughing. Tifa slid to her knees next to him and supported his upper body with her shoulder while he tried to hack up a lung.
Denzel's eyes were huge and his voice shook as he ran up next to them. "I don't know what happened! I think I hit him with some ice, but he said it would be ok…"
Tifa shook her head grimly. "This isn't from an ice spell."
His coughing finally subsiding, Cloud drew in ragged breaths while Denzel watched anxiously. "Denzel, go get him some water," Tifa said.
Denzel nodded and ran off to get the water. When he returned, Cloud was breathing a little easier and his face was almost back to his usual pale color. He gratefully took the water from Denzel and drank it all while the other two watched him.
Tifa was rubbing his back now. "Cloud, what happened? Are you going to be ok?"
"I'm ok," Cloud said hoarsely. "I choked on…" He shook his head. "..something. I finally swallowed it, but it really burned on the way down."
Burning with anxious energy and needing to do something useful, Denzel picked up their practice swords. He popped the ice and barrier materia out of his and then turned his attention to Cloud's. All of the slots were already empty. "Um, did you take out that fire materia? I can put it away. I—I'll clean up in here."
Cloud looked up at him. His eyes were still watering, and the tears magnified the bright blue irises. "I don't have it," he rasped.
Denzel looked back at the empty materia slot. He scanned the ground, looking for the telltale flash of green. It finally caught his eye, and he felt a rock drop into the pit of his stomach as he picked it up. It had split into several pieces, and as he gathered together all he could find, it quickly became obvious that not all the pieces were there.
All three of them seemed to come to a realization at the same time, but at first they could only stare at the fragmented stone in his hand.
Tifa was the one to finally voice it. "Cloud…I think you swallowed materia."
The silence following Tifa's pronouncement echoed through all of them. She was the first to snap out of it and take charge. "It'll be ok," she said, her voice betraying only a hint of uncertainty. "We just need to get it out. Just…wait here," she ordered as she ran out of the room.
Denzel was shaky on his feet, almost paralyzed with worry. "Cloud…I'm so sorry. I don't know what…I didn't mean to…"
Cloud shook his head and pulled Denzel closer by his wrist. "Not your fault," he said hoarsely. The effort of speaking so forcefully must have irritated his throat, because he began coughing again.
Denzel shifted uneasily on his feet, wishing he could do something to help. The acrid odor of smoke filled his nostrils and his eyes widened. "Cloud? Is that smell coming from you?"
Eyes watering as he got the coughing fit under control, Cloud nodded. Seeing the terrified look on the boy's face, he waved dismissively as if to say, "It's fine," although he didn't dare to try to speak again.
Tifa rushed back into the room with some thick, horrid looking concoction in a glass. Cloud reached his hand out to take it, but she pulled the glass back. "You…probably want to be close to a bathroom." She smiled apologetically at the look on his face. "Sorry. It won't be pleasant, but hopefully you can vomit it back up. I don't know how else to get it out."
Looking resigned, Cloud nodded. He accepted a hand from Tifa to get to his feet and then the two of them left the training room. Feeling frustrated and helpless, Denzel picked up the swords and brought them to the back room. It wasn't much, but at least this was something he could do. He grabbed the cloths and cleaning solutions and scrubbed and polished the first sword until it shone. When he was satisfied that he couldn't make it any better, he put it gently into its place on the wall and picked up the second sword. He gave this one the same treatment, moving up to the hilt only when he could see his reflection in the blade. He used a leather treatment to restore the grip and cleaned out the materia slots. Finally, he replaced the sword carefully back on the wall.
He didn't feel any better. No amount of polishing could ease the weight in the pit of his stomach. In his mind, all he could see was the materia slot that had held the fire materia. All he could think of was the chip in that slot – the chip that he had put there.