Archive of Our Own ^beta

Cloud stared into the mirror and grimaced at what Cid had called "some kinda space puberty", which was entirely too generous of a word for it in Cloud's opinion. He had to actively work to keep his ears from flattening against his skull in order to take a look at them.

A few days ago he could've hidden them in his hair, or worn a hat. Now, though, the large, fuzzy triangles sitting atop his head were far too noticeable for what they were. To say nothing of his tail. That he now had. Apparently. He had a tail now.

He knew Hojo had done a lot more gene splicing with him than just Jenova, but he'd sort of figured that meant taking a gene that helped him produce more or less of a certain chemical, or improved his resistance to cold. Not... whatever this was.

The ears he could sort of understand -- with them now much wider and on top of his head, able to swivel independently, his already enhanced hearing improved that much more. What advantage did the tail possibly offer, though? Aside from making chairs harder to sit in, or getting caught in doors, or making everyone stare at him because it was obvious they were absolutely dying to touch it, to see if it was real.

He could cut it off, probably -- but then, due to his healing factor and the fact that this was apparently coded into his DNA, it would just grow back. His ears were another matter; they wouldn't migrate back down to the sides of his head if he cut those off. And taking a blade to something attached to his head was just asking for trouble.

He glanced back at the bathroom door. He'd been locked in here for two hours, after Tifa had given one an experimental scratch and he'd leaned into her and actually started purring, to his complete and utter mortification. He'd have to go back out eventually. Someone was gonna have to use the toilet or something.

It wasn't just the ears, though. Or even the tail. Nanaki had a tail and he managed just fine -- even gave Cloud some tips to help him keep it out of the way of slamming doors. Going out in public with cat ears and a tail wasn't the worst thing in the world when he already got looks for going out in public with his freak eyes. He'd been getting stares from disapproving strangers as long as he could remember. And at the end of the day, his family certainly didn't seem to mind. (Barret and Tifa had been entirely too enthusiastic about them, in fact.) They were either neutral or in-denial-about-not-being-neutral-leaning-towards-positive about the whole thing, and those were the only opinions he cared about anyway.

They'd been neutral-to-positive about the skirts, and he'd been way more anxious to let them find out about that. In isolation, a tail really wasn't that bad.

But...

It was his body. It was his body, he'd fought tooth and nail for years to be able to say that. What would he look like in two years? In ten? Would he even be recognisable? At least Sephiroth had been born looking the way he had.

It was the principle of the thing. He had purred earlier: How much of his body had changed internally to allow that without him even realising it until the tail had sprouted? Could he still eat fruit, or was he an obligate carnivore now? Even after all these years, he still didn't know exactly what had been done to him.

Maybe he could just decide to look different, the way things infected with Jenova could. But he'd never tried before, and there was no one left that could teach him, the way Nanaki could teach him how to have a tail.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh and allowed his ears to flatten. And now he was thinking about the lifespan thing, and he really, really didn't want to have to think about the lifespan thing.

It didn't do any good to think about the lifespan thing, he forcibly reminded himself even as he continued to think about it, when he was still young and wouldn't be visibly aging that much anyway. If he was lucky, he'd get to grow old along with his family the normal way. If he was a bit less lucky, he'd either die young from cancer, or after two or three centuries, both as a result of the enhancements as well. If it was the former, well... he could make his peace with that. If it was the latter, he'd get to keep Nanaki and Vincent company for a while, before eventually returning to the Planet to rest.

Worst case scenario, he wound up like Jenova Herself, and just kept going. Until his loved ones, even Nanaki and Vincent, grew old and died, until he didn't even recognise the world anymore, much less himself. Until they were both too warped by time and all the hidden defects in the building blocks that made them up to be anything he could call home. Until the Planet itself crumbled into dust. Until --

One of his ears itched. Without even thinking, he flicked it a few times before reaching up to scratch it. Like a cat. Like a fucking cat.

He took a deep breath, and let it out, and immediately felt stupid. Maybe he'd gradually devolve into a pile of meat over ten thousand years and maybe he wouldn't, and in the meantime he had no way of knowing and he was standing here in a bathroom panicking over his ears.

He could deal with them first. Maybe Nanaki had tips. Though, Nanaki didn't bother to hide half his body language around them, since not many of them knew how to interpret a tail.

His own was puffed up and curled down between his legs, he realised. And, more to the point, he was going to have to cut holes in a lot of pairs of pants, unless he wanted to resign himself to the discomfort of sitting on it.

That might not be a bad idea, he mused. Definitely an improvement over broadcasting how stressed out he was.

"You're not coughing up hairballs in there, are you?" came a voice from outside the door. Cloud grunted. Yuffie. Figures it'd be her.

"Yeah, laugh it up," he shot. "Out in a sec." He straightened up, and did his best to relax his tail, and then the rest of him. Just ears. Just a tail. Just more parts of his body.

Then he adjusted the collar of his maid outfit and stepped back outside.