Author's Note: I'm writing this story in a semi odd sort of way. Most chapters are going to be written from third person perspective. Which is the way most novels are written, like the Harry Potter series. Every few chapters however, like the first one, are going to be taken from Cloud's journal.

Warnings: I wrote this chapter after taking a sleeping pill the night before, for the first time.

Disclaimer: I don't have a maid, a chef, a masseuse, chiropractor, or legions of fans stalking me. The answer it seems is no. I think I might cry.

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Cloud shortly found himself being dragged out of the train station and down half the streets of Midgar it seemed. The one who was doing the dragging was a petite young woman who still managed to be a bit taller than Cloud.

He was rather befuddled. He was stuck in Midgar, didn't have the money to go home, to the encampment, or to a hotel. His ankle hurt from that damned Moogle, the station master probably had been flirting with him (his small town senses were still trying to wrap his mind around this one), and now he was being taken to who knows where, by a young woman whose name he still didn't know.

"Um. . .," Cloud spoke up hesitantly.

The young woman paused in both movement and muttering, the movement had been quick, the muttering, violent. She looked over her shoulder somewhat blandly. It wasn't a particularly friendly look, but it wasn't hostile either. Somehow though, it gave him the courage to speak up and speak out.

"Who are you. . .and where are we going?"

Grey eyes, he could tell what color they were now, looked at him in mild surprise. "Ah, right. I'm Ilita Bedlam, just call me Ilita. And unless you have somewhere to stay, we are going to my apartment."

Well, that answered his immediate questions and a few problems. He didn't think she was some sort of crazy ax murder, if she was, the station guard would have arrested her instead of falling over laughing after she got the station master. And while she was the owner of a baseball bat, he rather doubted she'd beat his head in the middle of the night. Even though he didn't know her very much if at all, he got the impression if she was going to kill someone, they'd see it coming.

To attack from behind was to live, to kill, well, might as well be somewhat honorable about it and at least give them a chance. Cloud pondered the fact that Ilita reminded him in a very odd way of his mother mixed with. . .well, he didn't know that many people, so he'd have to go with violent maniac for now.

His mother may not have done much to stop the bulling because she couldn't, but she did threaten Mr. Lockhart with a shotgun that one time. Come to think of it, the gun was aimed at Mr. Lockhart's crotch instead of his head or heart.

Cloud came out of his musings as they entered sector five. While it wasn't slums, it wasn't exactly upscale either. The area seemed sort of run down, not in a bad way, more like it was a bit old and tired. It was nice enough all considering they were in Midgar. About five blocks down the main street of the sector they made a left and went seven or so blocks.

They stopped at a faded blue apartment building. The name had long since been worn away. They walked down a slightly narrow hallway that was ten apartment rooms deep, to the back of the building where there was a staircase and an elevator. The elevator was clearly marked out of order. His ankle twinged in pain at the thought of going up the stairs.

Much to Cloud's discomfort they went up all three flights of stairs. While he might have lived in a very hilly and mountainous range, he wasn't used to so many stairs. By the time they got to the top his thighs, calves, and his bitten ankle were feeling the strain. Cloud hobbled somewhat after Ilita who was heading towards the front of the building. She stopped at room 301 and opened the door.

"Well, this is home. It's a bit of a mess right now just to warn you. Do not touch the canvases, the paint tubes, or any artistic supplies actually. I'll have to hurt you if you do. The couch is over there, go take a seat, and do you like tea?"

Cloud closed the door behind him and carefully navigated his way though what was apparently the living room/artists studio. The floor was littered with oil paint tubes, there were three covered canvases scattered about, several jars of dirty water, and paint brushes in the oddest of places including a flower vase that was devoid of water and held a single dead flower in it.

"I like tea," he said a bit louder than he usually spoke. He was still quiet but he needed to be heard from the clattering sounds that were coming from what he assumed was the kitchen.

He sat himself down on a very worn and battered blue couch that turned out to be far comfrey than it looked.

"Ah, good, its about time for my relaxing evening tea blend anyways." Ilita wandered out from behind the jutting wall from which the kitchen was located on the other side. Without any preamble she plopped down next to him and grabbed his injured leg. "Hmm, that doesn't look deep enough to need any potions. Just as well as I don't have any. Okay, the bathroom," she pointed, "Is over there. You, need to wash this out."

Cloud got up and shuffled in the general direction of the bathroom. The bathroom was tiny in a word. It held a narrow shower stall just barely big enough for one; the toilet was right next to the sink which was low enough that he could put his leg on it. He cringed a bit as the soap stung the wound.

Ilita followed him into the bathroom and somehow managed to fit both of them in there. He suspected it was only possible due to their slender frames, his frame he dubbed puny and weak.

She grabbed the First Aid kit from under the pitiful excuse for a bathroom cabinet, and had Cloud sit on the toilet. From the kit she grabbed the bane of many a child with scrapped knees, iodine. Cloud bit his lip as she liberally poured it over the small cuts. Just as the kettle was about to whistle she finished bandaging his ankle.

"That'll have to do." She eyed her work critically. She sauntered into the kitchen to pour the tea as Cloud headed back for the couch.

Ilita pulled up a cushiony artists stool as she handed Cloud a pale green mug full of tea. After making sure his leg was somewhat propped up, she seated herself. A few quiet minutes passed before she set her mug on the little end table next to the couch. "I never got your name," she observed.

The blond boy taking up residence on her couch turned a rather charming shade of red. "I'm. . .Cloud. . .Stife."

Hmm, young, confused, pretty jailbait, apparently no place to stay, very much lost, and no confidence to speak of. Bad combination, the artist pondered.

"Well, Cloud, what are you doing in Midgar?"

He flushed again. "I was. . .going to join the army. . .but I'm not good enough. They'd probably send me home. . ."

"I'm going to guess that you didn't hop on the bus to the encampment at the last minute then."

A slight nod, no eye contact, and an even deeper shade of red. 'Ancients, it probably a good thing he didn't go. The poor kid would get killed long before he ever left basic training if he wasn't over run.'

"So, what are you going to do then," she asked genuinely curious.

"I. . .I don't know. I could try to get a job and go home. . .," for some reason this idea seemed to upset him, even if he was the one who thought the army would have sent him back anyways. "Maybe. . .I could find. . .," he trailed off.

"Find what," Ilita prompted.

"Someone. . .willing to train me, and then join next year?" He sounded unsure of himself.

Ilita couldn't help but smile. However hesitant he seemed, he had two somewhat solid plans to work with in short amount of time. Now, she had two options herself. She could just front him the money and put him on the next train that was going to his hometown, where ever that was, or she could help him with his second plan. If nothing else training would give him some desperately need self confidence, and maybe she could keep him from becoming another brainwashed puppet while she was at it. Besides, she'd get a cute roommate in the meantime.

"I'm an artist incase you hadn't guessed," she said into the silence. "I also happen to be looking for a roommate." It was a lie, but she wasn't going to tell him that.

Cloud peaked up at her through the mess he called hair, he couldn't help but feel cautiously hopeful.

"You can stay here if you get a job, and in return I'll train you."

She was rewarded with a shy, but brilliant smile.

'Smile now, you'll curse me later. Tomorrow you'll be running laps and starting yoga.'

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Authors Note: Perhaps it's not nearly as amusing as the previous chapter, but it's the start to the rest of the story. I try not to take so long between chapters, but my life outside of the net is often the cause. The main one being I'm a full time college student.

As I often prefer to write humor, something I'm fairly good at, I think I may be able to have the next chapter up sooner than it took for this one. Thank you for your patience and a special thanks to my three reviewers.