Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Pairing: Leon/Cloud later on

Rating: For now, PG 13. Will rise up later

Summary: Everything has changed. Coping with reality was never easy for him, but Cloud is going to deal with all the changes the way he knows best – by running away. Tough for him, someone found a loophole.

Warning: Curse words.

Letters of Safe Distance

Chapter Five: First Flight, First Night

The journey back to where Cloud was currently staying at was uneventful for the owls, thankfully. The cactuars seemed to have wandered off to their destination and the forest was clear of any other threats. Chocobo and Moomba set the pace, the latter glancing from time to time to the latter, Moogle sometimes flying around in circles, other times flying ahead and getting hooted at by Moomba. The air was getting a bit cooler and night started to spread across the sky, darkening the surroundings to allow some animals to rest and others to awaken.

The two slower owls felt its influence, making them start to yearn for nightly rest. They were not nocturnal and they had been flying for some time. Eventually, they got to the house in the forest. Moomba, always the most proactive of the three, pecked at the front door, urging the other two to do so as well. When it seemed to produce no effect, a chorus of hoots and squawks started. Finally, the door, so much larger than them, opened and a spiky-haired man greeted the trio of owls as he would anyone who appeared at his door – he glared, frowning, and did not budge from his spot, impeding their passage.

"What now?" – He grumbled, recognizing the birds. – "You woke me up in the morning and now you want to bother me at night. That's just great."

Cloud then noticed there was a new addition to the delivery team, as he'd dubbed the owls in his mind, and an inquisitive look at said addition earned him a stretched talon in the man's direction, presenting the tube with a message from Merlin.

He read it and sighed. Sometimes I wished they'd just stopped with this whole owl thing. It might be fun for them, but it's annoying to me. Pocketing the piece of paper, he addressed the other two owls, asking them if they had any more messages. They were smart owls; Merlin had told him so before. He could talk to the oddly coloured birds and they would understand him perfectly.

The yellow owl, Chocobo, he remembered, was quick to present its carrying tube and seemed pleased doing so. The other one, on the other hand, stubbornly slammed its talon on the ground, hooting at him and nodding towards the interior of the house.

"What, you want to go inside?" – Cloud eyed the owl suspiciously. It was getting dark and he didn't know if they were supposed to fly back to Merlin's or not. He also had no idea if there was any sort of way to proceed regarding owls, if there was some owl etiquette of some description he was ignorant to. After a few moments, he stepped back and let the three birds inside. – "I don't mind you guys staying here, just don't make too much noise or start making a mess. If that happens, you're sleeping outside, got that?"

The nods in response as they went inside were enough. The owls flew into the living room, settling on the wooden coffee table in front of the couch. Only then did the more obstinate bird deem him worthy of taking the messages out of their carrying tubes. Sitting back on the very comfortable green couch, he started reading.

The first letter that he picked up, unfortunately for the man, was Yuffie's. He didn't even have the patience to read anything coming from the young girl properly, so he skimmed the paper in a dismissive manner and rolled his eyes. Again, it went on about ridiculous things he couldn't care less about. Smiling? The fuck? What good could smiling do?, he thought.

Cloud contemplated not replying to Yuffie, but he was sure nothing good would come of that – the girl would only get more insistent and annoying. Getting up, he fetched some paper and a pen from nearby and wrote back, hoping this could end here.

To Yuffie,

Your advices are of no use to me, or anybody for the matter.

Your grasp of reality seems to be faltering with each passing day. I reciprocate by advising you to seek help with the mental health professionals near your location.

My wishes for a speedy recovery,

Cloud

The next letter he picked up was from Aerith. Cloud didn't even have to read the sender's name, it was very obvious judging by the round and perfectly drawn calligraphy, who sent it. There was no actual need to read what she had written, to be honest, it would all boil down to the same. It always did. She was worried and maybe a bit scared, but still trying to pull everything together. Aerith would most likely try to keep him writing back. If those were her wishes, he would do so – he owed more than he was willing to admit to Aerith. She was the one who always kept everyone from doing something rash, the one who tended to the distressed, the one who made a group of friends feel like they had a family.

Bingo, he thought. The letter was exactly what he had expected, and his reaction was more than decided.

To Aerith,

You worry too much. Other people's problems are not your own. Learn to give people the chance to make mistakes and be hurt and take care of themselves.

One thing I am not is a liar. If I said I would return when everything was okay, then I will. And another thing I am not is empathetic. I do not understand or care about what other people feel or are going through. Everything might have been all rose-tinted for you, but it was not for me. My problem. Not yours.

I am as good as I can be, don't worry. There is nothing I wish to share with you.

My regards,

Cloud

Glancing at the rest of the papers, he confirmed his suspicions that Cid had not decided to further provoke him. Good, I don't really want to deal with that piece of Behemoth turd.

What he did find was something from Tifa. He dreaded her letters the most – they were repetitive, bothersome and always tried to make him feel guilty. They never succeeded on that, but did give him some mild headaches instead.

Reading the letter, we could just imagine that if Tifa had any say in the matter, he would have been dragged back home by now. Only to escape once more, but that is beside the point. He shouldn't be continuing this written conversation anymore, for both of their sakes, but knowing what the woman was capable of, he begrudgingly wrote back.

To Tifa,

Yes, I do need to take care of things on my own. I've always done that and I will keep doing that.

No, you can't change people. Keep that in mind.

I did not ask for your worries, your help or any such thing. Keep those to yourself.

My regards,

Cloud

There was only one letter left on the table, so he assumed it was Leon's. He was right, of course, to his surprise. He still could not completely understand the reasons behind Leon doing this yet, but it was amusing him somewhat, that someone as the leader of this gang of odd characters would go to such lengths. Just doing your job, maybe – doing what's expected of you. But Cloud still couldn't help but wonder if his departure had had any effect on the other man. That would certainly be an unexpected turn of events. He tried to imagine if it were any other one of the group going away. For some people it was nearly impossible to do so, like Merlin –it was his house, after all- or Aerith. Even so, on the chance the old man disappeared, Leon wouldn't care. If Aerith did go away, Cloud doubted the brunet would go after her – he had seen her abilities in battle enough times to know that she could take care of herself just fine. Leon also knew that Aerith did nothing without reason, so he would probably let her go take care of her private business alone. If it were Yuffie missing, the blond was sure Leon would either be dismissive or pleased to be rid of the nuisance that the wannabe-ninja was so very prone to be. Cid leaving wasn't anything new, he was frequently called upon to help fix an assortment of mechanical objects in nearby or not so nearby places outside Radiant Garden. Leon wouldn't care, he wouldn't even spare a thought about it, much less maintain some sort of correspondence with the departed person. It didn't make sense to Cloud, but who was he to say what the brunet would or wouldn't do – he didn't know him beyond what he showed him recently through letter. Dismissing the thought for now, he read the letter. Feeling his lips tugging upwards on their own accord, he replied.

To Leon,

You'll have to forgive my bluntness, as I cannot beat around a bush, but you are the most unhappy looking and unbalanced individual I have had the opportunity to cross paths with. You must have a very different concept of "happiness" from mine. What is "happiness" to you? Please tell me, as I am intrigued.

"Accept my weaknesses?" What is there to accept, pray tell?

I have no intention on setting a limit to what you can say. I have also no will or need to be dishonest to you. It would serve no purpose.

I have to admit that I did not expect that from you. If you wish it, do it. If you desire something, then do everything you can to get it. If you want to run away, then do it. Just do it. Forget about your responsibilities for just a little while. Take a step and then another and then start running. Run until you feel like you've gone far enough. You are not chained down to anything. You are a free man, Leon. Free to do as you wish.

Yes, this is my own problem. One which I will solve on my own. But it seems that you also have something eating at you from the inside, or else why would you write me? If you understand me, then it is also possible that I understand you, is it not? I am trying to find my "peace", as you call it, yes, but it seems that you are much worse off than me – you don't even realize you need "peace" as badly as or more so than I do.

I am curious to know what exactly makes one as you angry. Nothing seems to faze you, but that is a wrong presumption, I suppose. And yes, it was the most entertaining. I am aware you did not mean it that way. I would not believe you if you said it was intended to be entertaining. It is just so unexpected of you to write me, the runaway, when you've built an image for yourself of being so uncaring. But it's more than that. You're not trying to make me become something I am not or something I was a very long time ago like the others. You seem to be honestly trying to know me as I am right now. Well, let's just say I was not prepared for this.

Yours sincerely,

Cloud

The young man picked up the four replies and divided them unevenly between the three owls. He wondered if they would depart right now or stay the night. His hopes were on a nightly flight, as he was not familiarized with how to proceed with tending to owls.

"You guys flying or staying?" – Cloud asked, staring straight into the red owl's eyes, figuring it was the unspoken leader of the trio. The other two turned their gazes elsewhere, but Moomba stomped its talon on the table, as if proclaiming they would stay for the night, and that he better prepared the best quarters for them or there would be dire consequences.

Getting up, he ran his fingers through his unruly blond spikes, sighing in defeat. He paced the room, muttering to himself.

"That's just great!" – He said – "And what am I supposed to do? What do I know about owls? You're going to sleep inside a box, for all I care."

Moogle, the new owl, pointed to Merlin's note atop the coffee table with its beak. The piece of paper had started buzzing and shaking, blobs of black ink appearing on it. When Cloud picked it up to ascertain what was happening, the blobs turned into lines. Lines turned into knots and curves, and then words were formed. It was a message from Merlin, the old wizard.

"Figures he'd come up with something. He might have even been planning this all along." – Spat the young man.

It was all too convenient that as soon as Cloud found out he would be having unwanted guests in his current habitation he got a note explaining just what to do to take care of them. Merlin explained that they had to sleep on stands, with paper on the floor due to the droppings, eat things like mice and insects and not be disturbed as they slept. The old man even drew him pictures of the things he would need. What, I can't read now? I wish I couldn't! That way this whole letter business wouldn't even be happening and these owls would not be here bothering me.

"I don't think you guys are gonna be staying here, after all." – He said, talking to the three owls. The red one squawked fervently, as expected, and the other two joined in on the complaints. Cloud was getting frustrated.

"Look, I don't have anything for you to eat or to sleep on." – He pointed to the pictures on the note. – "See? I don't have anything like this!"

As his finger touched each of the pictures, they started to glow. As a reaction, the man dropped the piece of paper on the ground and from it sprouted stands, newspapers and jars of insects in sets of three. The living room was now very much crowded. The only one who seemed to not be expecting something as this was the human currently taking a few steps back with his brow furrowed. He eyed the owls suspiciously, like they were the ones behind what had just happened.

"Okay. Fly off to the top floor, the room with the closed door is yours. Wait there. I'll carry this up in a second."

The birds did as instructed, Moomba sparing him a glance. The blond man took a deep breath and conceded defeat. He knew went he had been bested and there was no other way but let the owls sleep there for the night. He picked everything up, a bit awkwardly, but managing nonetheless, and went up the stairs. The owls were standing in front of the door as they were instructed to do, but hopped to the sides to let the man open the door and enter the room first, turning on the lights. He hastily put down the stands in the middle of the room, forming a triangle, with generous amounts of newspaper below them. The owls flew towards the wooden stands, each picking the one they liked best, even though they were identical. The birds craned their necks perusing the room they would be staying in, seemingly approving of it to some degree. There was one problem, though – the jars with the insects.

"Look, I don't know how you guys are going to do this, but figure it out yourselves. Just don't make a mess out of the room, or else I'm going to mop it with your feathers."

A warning stare at each of the owls, especially the more violent of the three, as he opened the lid of the jars just a bit, so the owls could open it if they wanted to but the insects would not escape, and put them down in the middle of the triangle of wooden stands. Cloud could not identify the bugs, as he'd never seen them anywhere in the wild and he wasn't one to read books on the various species of insect there were in his world, but he imagined those were in single doses. The jars would satisfy the owls for the night but not more. At least, he hoped so.

Leaving the birds to rest, the man turned the lights off and closed the door behind him. A riot seemed to have started behind said door, squawks and hoots mixing with crashes and thumps. This is going to be a very long night, Cloud thought as he descended the stairs, put a DVD on and sat on the comfortable couch with a random assortment of snacks and drinks, fully aware there were little chances he'd be sleeping tonight.