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A Place Called Home

"Which one of us calls to the other?" Cloud asked the air surrounding him, not expecting an answer and quite honestly really not wanting one.

He wasn't alone, even if there weren't footfalls beside him or movement in the air. Alone would be... almost scary, now, after so many years together.

Still walking, Cloud realized that he wasn't even sure where he was going. But he wasn't worried because he was being guided.

"If I called to you..." Cloud began as he gazed up at the twilight lingering in the sky, threatening darkness if he didn't reach his destination. Not that he was scared of the dark.

Nothing. And as Cloud kept walking towards his unknown destination, he pulled his cloak tighter around his body and wanted to laugh. He was not the one who called. He was the one who answered. Every single time.

Turning a blind corner, Cloud wasn't surprised to see a small house veiled in trees - old, unkept, but perfectly suitable as a temporary... home.

After slipping away from Aerith's watchful gaze when the call became too loud, he'd wondered where on the outskirts of Hollow Bastion there was such a place to hide. In all the years that he and Leon had played explorers, this house had never been part of the landscape they'd discovered.

But that didn't surprise Cloud, either.

Reaching back, he let his cloak loose and grabbed his sword. The welcoming committee did tend to be a few knocks across the terrain, and Cloud couldn't imagine anything different would happen this time.

"Such hostility..."

Cloud spun around, drawing his sword fully and pointing it at Sephiroth.

"One of these days..." Cloud replied, not entirely sure if he even knew what the rest of his sentence would have been if he hadn't had to stop talking and start defending himself.

Sparks flew as metal met metal - Cloud braced his sword and dug his heels into the ground as Sephiroth pushed at him. He knew the lock would break quickly; he just wasn't sure how.

"But you came to me," Sephiroth said calmly. "You always come."

"Do I have a choice?" Cloud asked in reply. Sephiroth jumped upward but met Cloud's sword anyway before breaking apart. No clear winner, yet.

"Of course not. You belong to me."

Cloud nodded, but he didn't lower his sword.

"Come," Sephiroth commanded before gesturing over his shoulder to the small house. "Home."

Closing his eyes, Cloud finally brought the blade of his sword down to knock against the dirt. Their battle would resume another day. Night was falling.

His sword was a familiar weight on his back a moment later, nestled against his dark, leathery wing. Sephiroth held a hand out.

Nodding, Cloud reached to take it. He would go home, for the night. Like a child, he would be led one more time into warmth when darkness came calling.

Even if the home he was being led to had not a single light of its own.