(( A/N:Short update. Mwahahaha... Cloud... I am your father... ka-kooooosh))

-Breathe-

05: Demons and Angels and All stuck In-between

No one talks to him about how he lives,
He thinks that the choices he makes are just his,
Doesn't know he's a leader with the way he behaves,
And others will follow the choices he's made…

Heroes are made when you make a choice…
-Superchick-

The fact they had survived the experience still marginally surprised him. It seemed wrong that it should actually shock him; after all, he had been through the exact same training as everyone else and come out near the top of the class. Admittedly, seeing a huge bat winged creature of all hells, all demonology and the scrapings of whatever was growing in the back of Tifa's drawer back in garden (he was sure that thing had sentient thought by now…) was likely to induce what he fondly liked to call 'brown trousers time'.

Like a pro, he had kept his head, even when Tifa had screamed and flung the lamp away irrationally so they had to spend half an hour after the fight with a grumpy looking demon, fishing the damned thing from the breaking waves as they lapped back and forth over the sandy beach. Like a pro, he had managed to soothe the hurt nerves of Yuffie when he had suggested she fetch it as she was wearing the shortest piece of clothing in creation and therefore, would suffer less staining on the clothes from salt water. Like a pro, he had silently ground his teeth when working out the nick in his gunblade from a knee jerk reaction when Tifa had tripped over a branch in yet another classic 'disaster Dincht' moment, slamming said blade deep into the face of a rock.

Like a pro, he kept chanting to himself, and because he was a pro and thankfully his companions had enough sense to realise that his temper wasn't improving after a steady few days where he had simply being forced to act social and be around people, usually the peppy kind of people that really managed to set his teeth on edge and to grating. Back and forth, with a distinct sawing noise if someone listened carefully enough.

As it was, they had managed to soothe the demon that had introduced himself in a sullen and surly manner as Diablo (and promptly got foisted on him) the Guardian Force. The lamp was tucked into his backpack, slightly dented from the escapade with the water and the shore. They were now just on the brink of entering Balamb town, a small fishing port where he had come through not days before. This place was the closest to Garden that had a railway, the small and otherwise minor villages that dotted around the island weren't worth mentioning or gracing with a rail service.

The railway itself had been one of the ways to cement ties between Balamb and the Galbadian continent, where the real world power shook the politician board daily and had been the focal point of force during the Dollet incursion. It ran not only to Galbadia, but it was said, ran all the way out to a fisherman port and on towards the near mythical lands of the Esthar, which in his belief, had long since faded from any real importance.

"The railway's over by the stand that sells potions," Tifa said in a much more subdued tone of voice, itching a finger into her temple shyly and in a strange semblance of embarrassment. "We'll have to buy our tickets, but that shouldn't be a problem. Once there, we hop on the train."

"I can't wait, I bet its fun!"

Cloud spared a withering look for Yuffie, who lowered her hand shyly, "What?" he said quietly.

"Trains, they go for miles and never stop, never slow." She smiled, "Are you always this grumpy?"

"Are you always this annoying?" He retorted.

"I try extra especially hard just for you."

"Goody," he grumbled and with a swing of his backpack, started towards the station, ignoring the waves that the townsfolk threw his way. He knew he should wave back and from the corner of his eye, could see Tifa waving merrily.

There wasn't a single jot of worry in her wave, not an iota of self consciousness as she waved cheerfully, calling out and answering calls from people she knew, people she had grown up with in Balamb. He wondered what that was like, having a family there for you, having someone who wouldn't go away.

His cloudy blue eyes fell back to watch his path, winding past people with a shrug of his shoulders so he wouldn't have to touch them or bump into them. The ticket booth was indeed, on the right hand side of the junk shop where he normally went for weapon upgrades (and working out the kinks in his weapon that invariably happened in training). The man selling tickets wore a uniform that looked as though it had been pressed relentlessly with irons, he could probably cut himself on one of those folds.

He came to a stop by the distributor, feeling in his pocket for the cash and then blinked, the only sign of his surprise as Yuffie pawed over the money that he had been looking for. He threw her a dark look, but she just beamed back at him.

"There you go miss, three tickets for three SeeDs. The next train for Timber is departing from platform one," the ticket man smiled, "Please enjoy your journey."

Cloud took his ticket with finger and thumb, a gentle snatching motion, "Thrilled deeply, no doubt."

"Er…"

"Hey, Steff, nice threads," Tifa said, breaking right through into that awkward moment so that both Cloud and the shorter Trabian girl were forced to blink and stare at her. She seized her ticket, grinning at the man, apparently called Steff. Wasn't that a girls name, Cloud wondered.

"You like them? I thought I'd give the job a try." Steff smiled, tipping his hat. "How's your work going?"

"Oh, not bad, man, there with this fantastic ball we went to and there was fireworks and hotdogs…"

"Oh, we saw those?"

"Hotdogs?" Tifa said, blinking owlishly.

"No, Tifa, the fireworks. Jeez, get your head screwed on," He laughed, "And hurry, or you'll miss the train."

"Best advice of the day," Cloud murmured in approval and hurried along to the train, exchanging a look with Yuffie. For once, the shorter girl appeared to share his sentiment of confusion, if not despair.

The train was standard, but inside it was done in a kind of wood panelled get up, with rich plum carpet and the windows wide and clear to show the world whizzing past. After a moment of waiting for Tifa to traipse into the bay, the train slowly chugged into life and steamed away from the Balamb station.

"Train…train…"

Cloud peered at Yuffie, who was gesturing meaningfully at the console by the door. He sighed and stepped over, peering closely at the buttons before gravely making his choice and slipping his ticket into the machine. The door gave a ping and then slid open. His blue eyes went to Yuffie, who smiled and hurried inside with a little skip.

He sighed and without a word, went into the corridor too, trying not to watch the world hurrying past. For some reason, it gave him the queasiest stomach.

Close spaces… can't stand it… sick…

He shook his head and took a left into the small cabin that had been set aside for the few hours journey by train to the small city of Timber. The cabin was as garishly decorated as the outside, in plum and draperies. He sighed, feeling completely smothered by utterly unnecessary opulence and with a hand to his scar, feeling the unfamiliar ridges that still needed to heal over, he trotted inside, followed closely by his erstwhile companions.

Tifa hurried past him and bounced herself into sitting down on the luxurious curving sofa that was bolted to one side of the cabin – her chest seemed to jiggle most alarmingly and briefly he wondered if she was about to get a black eye…

"So this is SeeDs private cabin!" She whistled, dark eyes going large. "This is so cool!"

"I'm glad you're so excited," Cloud sighed. It was a long day already and it was only just midday.

Tifa scrabbled about, and then held up a magazine which had probably seen better days, and less grabbing hands. She blushed and put it to one side after seeing the contents. The front cover alone had persuaded him not to peek. "They have… so many magazines here! Check it out…Beeria Weekly, Lotus Times, Angelic –Hugs and Kisses… woah, not for adult eyes that one…" She looked up and grinned, "Say Cloud, y'know much about Timber?"

"No. The question is, do I care enough?"

"Okay!" Tifa rubbed her tattooed cheek – was she even listening to him! "Thought so, well let me fill you in. Timber used to be a country surrounded by deep forests. But eighteen years ago, Galbadia invaded and Timber fell quite easily. It became an occupied territory. It's said there's a whole bunch of resistance factions, big and small."

Cloud lifted a pale eyebrow, "…and?"

"Nope, that's it."

He sighed, looking down at his feet, "Thank you, Miss-Know-it-all-Tifa!"

"No problem!"

No, the girl was definitely not listening to him. What a surprise. Not.

The door clicked open and in wobbled Yuffie, hand to her forehead and the other arm limp. He turned, looking at her in some confusion as she raised misted and distant eyes to them both. "I don't… feel well."

"Maybe you should get some rest then." He groaned inwardly – she hadn't eaten since half an hour ago, maybe she'd used up all her energy bouncing over the corridor and giggling about trains or some such nonsense.

"I'm…really sleepy…" she said, her voice fading breathlessly away.

That made him look up again, "Are you okay?"

Without warning, she crumpled face down onto the couch next to Tifa, breathing listlessly. Tifa gave a start and half stood up, and then pressed woozy hands to her cheeks with alarm, sinking back down beside Yuffie. "Wh…what? I… feel…" and then she was out cold too.

Cloud wasn't a man given for irrational panic, but he knew when it was setting in, cold on his heart and bones and so with a start, he made to walk to them, "What's going on!" He demanded of their sleeping bodies. The next thing he knew, lassitude entrenched to his bones and with a spiralling of his eyes rolling back into his head, there was a distant thud until the world became devoid of sound and colour, even light…

He was running. Beside him, two men ran quickly looking laboured, or at least the bigger and stockier one did.

He ran because he had little choice, somewhere behind him chaos erupted and he wasn't going to get caught up in it. No, because tonight he was going to watch her play the piano softly, loudly and lovingly.

Shaking of the sensation of danger, he paused at the fork as one of his companions spoke and he looked about, a blur of sweat and tension. "Uhh, are you sure this is the right way?"

"…Yeah…" and they carried on, the stockier one hooting derision as they fled along down the pathways.

Soon they came to a copse where they stand, panting and holding chests. He smiles, a bit of a wolfish smile as he catches his reflection briefly in the blade of a weapon, a gunblade that he handles well. Green eyes, pale hair. He almost laughs.

"Hey," says the stocky one through harsh breaths, a man of large frame he knows as Barrett Zabac. "Aren't we meant to be fighting a war here? You know, against the almighty Timber army?"

"Yeah so," the other said, looking as if he hadn't just ran a marathon to save his skin, not a hair from immaculate place and his hands sheathed in the deadly blades he preferred, the long standing friend Reeve Seagill. "Why are we wasting our time messin' with these animals?"

He likely meant the few animals of the forest that they hand tangled with – they hadn't actually seen any army men yet, just more and more of the wild animals. He was starting to disbelieve their existence too!

"Well... you see…uh…" He blushed. It was hot on his face.

"Don't tell me we're lost again," Reeve sighed.

"A-anyway, we're going home," He pointed to a truck in the distance, "Deling City, here we come!" And he started running towards the truck.

"Yo, Sephiroth, wait!" called Barrett.

He didn't want to wait, because he'd soon be home. As soon as he got to the truck, he gripped the outside ringed support and hauled himself inside. His friends, left with little choice followed.

Blackness.

Light.

Between then and there, he was home and parking, badly. What did he know about parking? It was stationary, right? So what was the big deal? Barrett hauled himself out of the truck and then stared in horror. "You can't park here, dude," he groaned.

He looked around; there were a couple of wheels out of the parking space admittedly...

"It's the middle of the street!"

Oh. That. Tch, always bothering with those… uh… bothersome details!

"Chill man," he soothed as Reeve slowly got out of the car, looking a bit green around the 'sea' gills. Oh, he was so witty… "How about a drink?"

"Whatever," gasped Reeve, clinging onto the truck then making a face as his arm was grabbed and he was unwillingly whirled into walking down Maine route, towards the hotel where she would be tonight, "We all know that you're not in it for the drinking. Just admit it already!"

Barrett chortled, "Yeah just drink some juice like a weenie and then gawk at the piano lady."

"Don't call her the Piano Lady!" He scowled, "That's it, and I'm not going!" To his credit, he even tried stopping there and then but Barrett was infinitely stronger and had a grip that could make rocks bleed and cry for their mama. If rocks even had mamas…

Why was he always thinking these inane things!

"You know you will," Reeve grinned, smoothing his hair back.

The hotel itself stood on the actual road, the front opening onto the street. It was called, most grandiosely or perhaps, lacking in creativity, 'Galbadia Hotel'. It was actually quite nice inside, with a nice man at the desk, a bellhop and curving stairs down to the large room where drinks were served and the woman sat at the piano, always in her red dress and played softly and sadly a tune he couldn't recall but always hummed.

He was propelled inside, to the smirk of the concierge who seemed to know his face as rote by now and down the stairs to a table where the waiter folded a napkin for each glass, one for each of them.

"Welcome!" He said, without a single trace of flippancy, "Your table is ready."

"Uh, thanks."

He had his own table? Spiffy. It wasn't quite like owning a dog. At least a table was house broken. Again, with those fluffy headed thoughts! He groaned and sat down with a mutter of, "At ease men," so both his companions sank down beside him. "We're going all out tonight, right boys?"

The waiter came back and smiled at them, the smile of a many anticipating a tip, "May I take your order?"

"Usual."

"Same here."

"Keep 'em coming."

"So," Barrett said in tones that oozed of teasing, "Sephiroth… she should be making her appearance soon. You goin' for it tonight?"

His heart hammered on his ribs helplessly.

"Yeah, go for it," Reeve threw in his support as he took those blades from his hands and slotted them carefully away. His hands looked a touch scarred from use of those weapons.

"Whatever, can't you see she's working?"

"So, just give her a wave?"

"Give me a break…" he groaned. This was what it was always like. It was okay for them to tease him but…

"Hey, there she is."

He swallowed his breath by accident, looking out across the assembled people to where the vision in red was slowly weaving her way to the piano, a grand piano with the back open to show the strings, proof that she played for real. Her hair was caught in a simple French braid and tied with a red ribbon, her face shaped oval and heart stoppingly beautiful but it seemed so serious, so sad and marked with such gravitas.

He promised himself that one day, he would see her smile.

Then she set her fingers to the keys and gently, played.

Everything from the moment of music was a blur, to the moment when she came to his table and his friends had deserted him, leaving him and the vision of red to speak, the notes echoing in his ears and promising someday, sometime, some past distant or future…

"May I?" She said. Even her voice was sad but sweet. He nodded dumbly and she perched next to him on the seat. In some distant part of his brain that wasn't being suffocated by the blood rushing to it, he recognised the glares of other admirers from around the bar. "Have I interrupted anything?"

"Oh, what? Oh, no…"

-Great, could my tongue make any more knots?-

"How's your leg? I noticed it sometimes cramps up when you come here."

"Oh, t-that? No no… it only does that when I'm nervous."

"Are you nervous?" She looked at him and his heart tried to claw it way out via his stomach, "You have no need to be nervous around me."

"S-sorry."

"Hey, come with me… I'd like to talk a little more privately and I think everyone is listening…"

He gulped, was this for real? "Sure."

In a daze of motions, he was following her to the suite she called his own, trying to work something out between his vertigo from all the blood rushing around inside him and the hormones raging at him – damn hormones, couldn't they take a rain check instead of trying to ruin this moment, his only moment so far, with the woman who played the piano like a lover?

Her room was sparse but elegant. A little like her. No smiles.

"Thanks for coming," she said, sitting down on the edge of a bed.

"Oh, no problem."

"Please, have a seat."

Sit? He didn't think his legs would obey him and there was already the cold cramping sensation in one, so he limped about the room, trying to work it out. Instead he simply came full circle to the door and with a sigh of regret, turned to go – he was just making a complete idiot of himself.

"Oh, going so soon?"

"N-no it's not that.. I just…" he stared into those beautiful green eyes, "I'm just… such a big fan of yours, Miss Heartilly."

"Please, call me Ifalna." She almost smiled then, was she amused at how puppy like he seemed to her? "So, that's why you come to hear me play so often."

"You saw me?"

"You were always there, smiling whilst listening, right? You have beautiful eyes." She brushed her lips with fingertips, "But they look a little scared right now. I just want to talk, so relax, and talk whilst gazing into those beautiful eyes… please, would you like a drink? Wine perhaps?"

"…I… I must be dreaming," Sephiroth Loire breathed as he sat down beside his piano playing, sad and bittersweet angel, Ifalna Heartilly and forgot the world for the music in her voice and presence…

There was a pool of something sticky under his cheek and slowly as the world faded in around him, he realised it was drool. Horrified, he pushed himself off the carpet and wiped his cheek, placing his other leather gloved hand atop the drool stain so neither girl would notice. The train announcement was blaring out, somewhat obnoxiously, "Timber, next stop!"

Tifa and Yuffie were both sat on the sofa, rubbing their eyes to rid them of sleep. He noted with wry amusement that Tifa's carefully hair gelled quiff had made pains to bend itself out of shape during her little snooze.

"Were we asleep?" He asked cautiously.

"Maybe someone released sleeping gas?" Tifa suggested, trying to tug her hair into shape.

Maybe. Better be careful.

"Anyone hurt?" Asked Yuffie quickly, checking her own stuff, "Anyone missing anything?"

"I don't think so."

"What a relief," she patted her chest then giggled, "Everything's cool with me, I had such a nice dream!"

He eyed her. How lucky some people were, for the perpetual horror that was his own dreamscape, he'd been stuck inside the most moronic person in existence, easily. One who pondered the questions that no one should ponder. And he tried so hard to forget the way he'd acted about that woman…

"Timber, get all your belongings and leave the train in an orderly fashion, Timber, coming up, next stop!"

Yuffie stretched and started to the door, "Seriously, Sir Sephiroth was soooo cool!"

"Hey," Tifa said, standing up in surprise and completely knocking her hair from shape with the motion, "There was a Sephiroth in my dream too. He's a Galbadian soldier, right?"

"Sephiroth, Reeve and Barrett…" he said slowly.

…despite the dream, those words felt distinctly familiar. Like he should… know them?

"T-There's… no way we can understand this." Yuffie tittered.

"Under normal circumstances, is there any possible way we could?" He shot back, gratified to see her wilt a little. Oh how mean did he feel for that? Well, not mean enough that he would lose sleep over it at any rate…

"…well… Let's just do what we came here to do."

"Yeah," Tifa said enthusiastically, "And find a shop that sells gel in the meantime."

"Uh, Tifa," He sighed.

"Yeah?"

"'That' magazine is stuck to your legs."

"Ah, get it OFF!"