Chapter Text
The beach is empty. Sandy as ever, the specks of dirt are picked up by the howling wind, shot backwards away from the ocean. The waves slam roughly against the shore, the sand left to its own devices to endure the abuse. The night sky is beginning to set in, the sun, at last, singing its goodbyes. As if there’s never a reassurance it will ever rise again. What remains of the sun glistens on the water, a small strip of orange that sharply contrasts with the deep blue of the ocean.
A clanging of metal shrieks through the air, startling the birds from their nests. Something stirs, disturbing the peace of the evening.
Two men face each other on the dim beach, each holding a sword, uniquely backlit by the ever-setting sun. Unintelligible hollers come from the two of them.
One of them falls on his buttocks, still holding his weapon up in resilience. “Is that all, Cloud?” the still-standing man taunts from afar.
He grunts and stands up with force. “Nope,” Cloud grits out, his teeth gnashing together.
“That’s more like it.”
Cloud draws his leg backwards before dashing forward, lunging at the man with his blade. Strands of silver meet the sword, the blade slicing through soft locks of hair. Cloud looks towards the man who had stepped sideways and is met with a sly grin.
His boots slide against the sand, kicking dust up and into the heavy wind. “You’re good,” Cloud remarks with a scowl. “Sephiroth.”
Sephiroth’s grin grows larger across his face. “You’re better.”
Cloud clicks his teeth. He doesn’t buy it for a second. “Don’t flatter me.” He lunges again, this time met with Sephiroth’s sword clanging against his. Cloud lets out something akin to a growl, and Sephiroth’s eyes gleam at the sound. They exchange more throws, the metal screaming into the air every time their swords connect.
Eventually Cloud drops his weapon with a defeated sigh, a cloud of sand pillowing in the air above it. Like the sword, he faces down now. Sephiroth, feet away from him, simply stares. A snarky grin lights up his expression before he walks forward.
Slowly. Ever so slowly.
He lifts his sword with elegant force. Then he brings it down onto Cloud.
Cloud feels something tap his shoulder. The blade lay there now, separated from his skin only by his lazy white tee.
Sephiroth reaches out with two fingers and lifts Cloud’s jaw to look at him, look him in the eye, before lifting it further up.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Sephiroth murmurs. His sword rests on Cloud’s shoulder, the weight unrelenting yet somehow gentle.
Cloud stares up at the sky. It looks as if a small child had spilled glitter on it. The stars glow, creating constellations. Some of the stars are dim, some barely visible. They are stars all the same.
“Yeah… it’s nice,” he responds, his voice littered with deep breaths from the fight.
Cloud looks down from the sky and regards Sephiroth, chest still heaving. “I didn’t take you for one to appreciate nature,” he blandly remarks. “What happened to dueling?”
Sephiroth smiles, then lets out a puff of air. He then sits down on the coarse sand, patting the ground next to him. Cloud reluctantly follows, sitting down on the sand next to Sephiroth, tucking his knees against his chest and making it a point not to touch any part of the other man. His sword lay behind him now, as if forgotten. Sephiroth looks backwards at it. “Poor thing,” he murmurs.
Cloud simply rolls his eyes. “As if you care,” he mutters.
Sephiroth gazes up at the stars again, admitting, “I just wanted a chance to look at the stars with you.” He smirks and looks back down at Cloud. “Is that so wrong?”
Cloud draws a breath in, staring at Sephiroth with his brows furrowed. That’s… new. He’d never imagined that coming out of Sephiroth’s mouth. Although there’s nothing wrong with it, he supposes. He sighs and looks up. “Guess not.”
Sephiroth smiles at Cloud before pointing up at the darkness of the night sky. “You know, the biggest explosion ever… it happened up there.”
“Yes, everyone knows that,” Cloud deadpans.
“The Big Bang,” Sephiroth continues, seemingly disregarding Cloud’s remark. “The universe as we know it now was so tiny. Infinitely so, even. Then it slowly expanded and”—he raises both of his arms out—“boom. Our universe was born.”
Cloud sighs, opening his mouth to offer another bland response before being rudely interrupted: “But do you know what the biggest explosion on Earth was?”
Cloud blinks, not expecting the question. The biggest explosion on Earth? He looks down in thought, hesitating before shrugging and sarcastically answering, “Shit, I don’t know, the Tsar Bomba?”
Sephiroth chuckles. “Maybe.”
After a few moments of Sephiroth not continuing, Cloud raises an eyebrow. “So, uh… What was it?”
“That’s for you to figure out.”
“…Seriously?” Cloud scoffs.
“Seriously.”
Cloud stands up then, brushing the sand off his pants. “You must answer my riddles three,” he mocks. He then savagely glares down at where Sephiroth still sits. “You always do this, you know?”
He squints his eyes. “It annoys me.”
Sephiroth doesn’t respond. He seems to be looking in Cloud’s direction, but not at Cloud. Cloud supposes this is Sephiroth being Sephiroth.
Cloud continues, “So what is it really? The biggest explosion on Earth.”
Silence settles in the air, the only sound the crashing of waves and the swiftness of the wind. Cloud scoffs and turns on his heel, grabbing his sword from the sandy ground and taking long strides towards his motorcycle, leaving Sephiroth there on the beach.
Once he gets to the bike, he looks behind him at Sephiroth, who is still sitting in the same position he was left in. “Are you coming or not?” he calls out.
Cloud stands there for a long moment, the wind tugging at his clothes, and his patience all the same.
Sephiroth doesn’t move.
Usually, he’s not the kind of person to leave his party behind. But at the same time, usually his party isn’t… frozen like that. Cloud continues to peer at the man, leaning against the motorcycle. Sephiroth looks like a statue, aside from the wind whipping his hair to one side. Cloud can see the moonlit silhouette of his shirtless, chiseled form. The way his muscles are stopped in time, as if he were sculpted by the Greeks. He questions even the flow of blood.
Cloud, after a moment, widens his eyes and shakes his head before lifting his leg up and around the motorcycle. “He can figure out his own way to get back,” he mutters to himself, starting up the vehicle. “Maybe use another riddle or whatever.”
He grips the handlebars until his knuckles turn white. With a sharp twist of the throttle, he drives off without sparing a glance, the bike leaving but a trail of sand and grain in its wake.
And Sephiroth, too.