Chapter Text
It was a blessing that the convent was located deep in the heart of the luscious green forests and shrubberies. Indeed, it was the perfect setting as well as protective refuge for most with faith. Although the weather and atmosphere for the majority of the months had been cloudy, overcast, rainy, windy, and slightly on the colder side, it was all so very green, full of nature, life, and brought out the best in everyone when the sun shone its good graces forth.
Permission to wander outside for many hours at a time came easily granted to Cloud so long as he was accompanied by General Sephiroth. Serving in the company of the famous warrior, hardly anyone reprimanded and sternly cornered him, leaving him to spend quality time alone with the handsome General.
Daily, they took long walking excursions, conversing pleasantly as Cloud maintained his duties all without distraction. Sometimes picking berries and fruits, he would walk next to Sephiroth, listening to the proud fighter share cases of his victorious battles of the past. Together, they would fondly reminisce and hope for better days ahead after the war, lost in their own merriment to the point of forgetting about the plethora of issues lying beneath the surface of their newfound bond.
On one particular day, while the sun slowly began to set outside, shoving in an orange-yellow glow not unlike the color of fire, with spirits essorant, Cloud held his basket of freshly picked berries, beaming when Sephiroth offered to carry it for him. They’d sequestered themselves outdoors while prayer and dinner went on within the walls of the abbey, the couple slyly slipping out right on time before Sister Tifa especially searched for General Sephiroth.
Ducking beneath low-hanging vines and long branches as they made their way behind stables, passed by large fences, they eagerly wandered far into the middle of a luscious wheat field. Prancing in effervescent joy, they were both enjoying themselves more than what words could express when gifted with such decent weather.
The sky was lovely; the sun was up high, the birds were chirping merry, early summer tunes, the wind blew about, the smell of flowers and nature was abundant and high in the air, and the mood and atmosphere had otherwise been lovely…and yet here they were, much too enraptured by each other and their idle chatter which eventually turned into gossip when Cloud felt he needed a break from walking.
“Allow me, my dear.” With a bit of an esurient gleam in his eyes, the General removed his cloak, turning it over to Cloud and placing it right by his legs.
Smiling in appreciation, Cloud lowered himself onto it rather than the grass. General Sephiroth nestled next to him, long legs stretching out before himself while he loudly yawned and moved his arms up into the air above his head.
Basking in the wondrous rays that glowed on for miles, as his silver hair billowed in the air before settling to cascade down to his lower back, the astute General studied his surroundings to his heart’s content. The ambiance was shared vicariously between the two men, but Cloud occasionally felt his skin tingling not from the blades of wheat, grass, and tiny insects scurrying about to tickle him, but otherworldly sensations.
Turning his head to cast a glance over his shoulder at the convent far behind themselves in the distance, he shuddered as he could almost feel Sister Tifa’s smoldering scowl bearing hotly into his back. There was a minor form of guilt associated with spending time around a man he knew his dearest friend was enamored with, but the facts remained that the General had chosen Cloud over Tifa, much too happy to spend hours with the blond youth, shunning all other women as easily as drawing oxygen.
Though his eyes were half-lidded and he faced the world ahead, the attractive General grinned as he mischievously inquired, “Something troubling you, my dear?”
Shivering still even though he was quite confident they were all alone, Cloud regretted his decision to waste even a second on worrying so emptily.
Turning back to face his companion, he forced a tiny smile onto his visage before rolling his shoulders and wrists about. “I sometimes fear Sister Tifa will attack me simply for accompanying you on these excursions.”
Brows flying as the wind moved his bangs out of his way, allowing his emerald eyes to stand out around the vegetation all around, the quizzical warrior tilted his head as he curiously wondered, “Why might that be?”
Giggling, Cloud elbowed his companion as he lightly reproached, “Daft man. You do know she desires for you, do you not?”
Perhaps playing ignorant still just as a means of avoiding a topic that brought himself some levels of discomfort, the appealing Celt purred with minor flippancy in his attitude, “Ah. Well, be that as it may seem, I don’t return her affections, nor did I notice them sent my way.”
Cocking an eyebrow at him and not readily buying into his words, Cloud pushed the issue with a tiny frown. “Oh? I thought you were well experienced with women.”
Snippy suddenly, the General bemoaned, “In the past, perhaps, but we are very much in the present, Sister.”
“No longer a ruffian, are we?” Cloud was proud his voice didn’t falter while speaking, even as his chest and stomach kept clenching painfully at the thought of the man he was indeed attracted to lavishing affection on any other woman.
Somehow, he felt the need to measure his own words and make sure that whatever had happened to turn him into a jealous monster, he wouldn’t raise his anger carelessly. Emotions of a romantic nature were still new to Cloud, as it so happened. Contending with them when it came to expressing them for another, though it wasn’t a conscious or justified feeling, it was strong enough that he felt compelled to abide by the laws of jealousy to show that he didn’t entirely approve of dalliances and alternative lifestyles.
Inflection stolid, but not degradingly so cutting, Cloud commented, “One would think you know how to deal with women fawning over you.”
“Will you absolve me of my sins and give me absolution should I confess?” the older man asked, winking at Cloud as he then tried to touch his knee to console him.
Smug at first as he relied easily on his practices and knowledge, resembling Mother Marle, Cloud orated succinctly, “If it’s in my power and if you’re remorseful for what you’ve done, then my answer is yes. If you truly want to be forgiven and if you intend to correct your ways, I shall do all that I can to help.”
Fingers suddenly pressed into and plucked at his knee, aiming to move beneath his tunic. Winding in circles, the amicable General moved his wrist, elongated fingers like spiders as they crawled over to one corner of his robes and tried to slide in beneath them to touch his bare leg.
Drawing his limb away, Cloud tucked it beneath his body as he muttered dryly, “You can laugh and smile about it all you like, but it isn’t easy for a lady to know she is being courted by a man who has held many other women.”
Taken aback by this form of courage and minor outlash, the shocked General countered, “I like your lack of experience; it’s a part of what helped you stand out to me.”
It wasn’t expressed in a sour, truculent, or inimical manner at all, yet it sent Cloud’s nerves on fire, blood boiling…but in a way that enabled his body to float high above the world. His brain and heart began tingling, and he faced in the opposite direction in a jiffy when the Celtic warrior peeked at him and grinned away openly.
Dabbing his burning cheeks, he coughed through his mortification and unease, “I fear for Father Barret!” Clearing his throat, he explicated while he could, “When last I checked on his wounds, they were worse, and Mother Marle believes he will need to have his leg amputated in order to get well!”
Thinking on that rather dark subject for a moment, the pensive warrior then touched his chin as he whispered mostly to himself in observation, “Was it his right or left leg? I can’t remember…”
Biting his lower lip, Cloud replied, “The left. Thank goodness for that, too.”
Now interested in this as a possibility for a new topic of conversation, General Sephiroth tucked a few strands of silver hair behind his ears and perked up. “Thank goodness? Whatever do you speak of?”
Leaning close to him, Cloud plucked a small flower out of the earth as he twirled it between his fingers. Watching the colorful flora spin, he explained, “Well, in my village, my mother often told me that if anyone was bitten by a wolf or dog, it would be best if it wasn’t on the right side of their body, because the right side would enable the plague of beasts and monsters to take over faster.”
Jerking up straight, with the wave of a hand, an uptight Sephiroth swatted the little flower away from Cloud. Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, he admonished loudly, “Old wives’ tales! Peasant superstition! A bright, lovely, intelligent girl like you believing in that nonsense offends and astounds me, madam!”
Baffled by his potent display of disdain, Cloud looked deeply at Sephiroth, jaw quivering as his fingers listlessly searched on their own accord for something else to play with.
Wincing as he was placed under such a scrutinizing glare, he whimpered, “B-but, my mother said…she also told me that most maidens will…they will…”
“They will what, precisely?” Leaning closer to the youth, arms slowly moving up to envelope Cloud’s frame without him noticing it, the rather assertive General snarled, “Go on, Sister…”
Flushing deeper as a wave of steam flowed out of his skull and off his cheeks, Cloud had a difficult time finishing the rather embarrassing notions his mother had passed onto him all for the sake of helping him grasp the first seed of thought regarding enacting the role of a ‘woman’.
“My mother said maidens often tear their own flesh…the barrier between their legs before their wedding night because it makes it less painful for her when a man deflowers her!” Uncertain of how he’d come to finish that without stammering all over, he once again took to behaving rather submissively as he avoided meeting eyes with the silent General.
Then, with a great amount of effort, the Celt appeared to master himself; he drew back with the old glitter in his eyes and expressed with easy unconcern, “For believing in such silly tales, you…deserve…”
Attention undivided, Cloud felt his heart skipping a beat, imagination running wild like the wind picking up speed as it gusted past their heads.
Looming over him, eyelashes so thick and full that they could be individually counted and seen given their proximity, Sephiroth leaned in even closer, arms gradually hovering over Cloud’s sides.
Suddenly, Cloud didn’t like the look in his eyes, for they were too deep and filled with extreme knowing. He instinctively leaned back until his shoulders moved through air rather than being supported by anything solid, but he chased the space regardless. Unperturbed, Sephiroth followed closely, maneuvering Cloud with disturbing ease until every way he turned was blocked by Sephiroth’s presence.
Gasping, Cloud could smell tobacco, heavy and mellow-gold, feel the smooth brush of velvet. His elder’s unnerving proximity caused the blood to hum in his veins in ways he’d never assumed possible. Aware of every breath and nerve, aware of the way his hands slid easily against his figure with such sweet promises. The breath latched in his throat as a cool hand slid up his slender arm, light, teasing, searching.
Something jumped inside Cloud before it pulsed. He could hear his heart beating, louder than a raging thunderstorm in his ears. The General’s fingers caressed, curved, and soothed. The sensation of his touch was slowly becoming like needles pressing just beneath the skin.
Beckoned to his unusual urges, Cloud looked up at him unwillingly. Eyes roamed past his bare throat, the wine-dashed lips, emerald that could drown him, and they did, calling to him as he leaned in closer as well.
“...To be…”
Dying to hear the rest of that given the sweetly addictive tenor richly resonating in his breastbone, Cloud almost held onto Sephiroth’s hands as well for dear life, blinking enough to miss a fraction of second of movement.
Eyes now taking on a fiendish look as he drew in breath, the General wickedly began grinning from ear to ear. Hands landing on Cloud’s shoulders right as he wanted him, he pressed his palms over the muscle and bone, abruptly pouncing on the youth with enough momentum to send them both toppling over into the grass.
“Punished!”
Realizing that this was a moment of play and minor roughhousing rather than torment given how well the esteemed warrior knew how to act and dissimulate, the blond instantly relaxed and gave in. Amid the merry laughter, when Cloud rolled down onto his back and began giggling even louder due to Sephiroth nuzzling and tickling him, he soon abandoned the woes and threats entailing any other jealous female. Living in the moment, he laughed heartily, thrashing his arms and legs about until he wrapped his small hands around the General’s neck for purchase.
Carrying away tickling his ribs for a few more seconds, their playful mood suddenly died down the longer Cloud looked at Sephiroth.
Stunned into inertia, Sephiroth ceased touching him in a childish manner, hands now planted on either side of Cloud’s head. Cloud didn’t move, thinking that the General merely wanted to look at him for some reason. It appeared that way for a long time at least, as the older male first took his time enjoying watching Cloud’s face spin through uncomfortable expressions before he stared all over at Cloud’s upper torso.
Under such spectacular examination, Cloud tried not moving or shaking the entire time, and he found that closing his eyes and imagining he was somewhere else helped a little. He just prayed this moment would last forever, feeling too warm and desired for the first time in years.
It soon became clear that watching and looking wasn’t all that the warrior of the Celts wanted, however. Holding tightly onto Cloud’s arms, he bent his head down and sniffed the youth’s covered neck. The unsuspecting boy froze up when Sephiroth did this, and he didn’t even blink or move a muscle as the fighter studied and sniffed along the column of his neck like some starved beast.
Cloud truly didn’t know what Sephiroth was doing or what he was trying to sniff and detect, but he was certain he didn’t want to play around anymore. Staying put and just remaining silent was his only choice for the moment, so he gave in as his body relaxed considerably in the open meadow. His skin was still tingling in pleasure anytime Sephiroth sniffed away at it, but he held back on his screams of passion, cries of joy, hunger, as well as mild confusion, and just allowed Sephiroth to do as he pleased.
The warrior’s warm puffs of air hitting his chest didn’t really do anything to placate him, but Cloud still felt locked and trapped in his own body while the General just studied every inch of his slightly exposed skin as if he’d been seeing it for the first time ever. Picking away at and undoing the knots that held up Cloud’s coif to then remove his veil, the General was thorough in his checking and a slow observer; he took his time touching Cloud’s skull, hair, and arms, as if measuring the length of them from the top of his shoulders all the way down to his fingertips. Sephiroth must’ve been impressed or pleased with something he saw, for he hummed deeply. He then made his way over to Cloud’s clavicle, testing out the depth and width of the bone by massaging and caressing it.
Perhaps it was due to the slightly cold air, perhaps it was due to fear and anxiety rising and churning in his system, or perhaps it was just because he really needed to have someone else touch him. Cloud didn’t know the reason either way, and he didn’t want to play guessing games with himself. The only thing he knew was that he felt his nipples hardening under Sephiroth’s penetrating gaze, and he arched up to press his sternum to the warrior’s for relief.
The warrior was staring at them seriously, as if he wanted to rip through the tunic and devour the erect buds whole, and it made Cloud whimper at the back of his throat. He couldn’t help but peer up along Sephiroth’s longer, stronger, wider body in turn, and he nearly cried out in shock and awe when he saw just how strong the older male really was made to be.
General Sephiroth was a towering build of muscle, power, dominance, and fear. He could’ve still served as a good soldier, bodyguard, fighter, or maybe even a nation’s leader and yet he was in a religious institution for young nuns?
Nervously swallowing when he knew the enthralled General was moving his hands over to slide around his clavicle, as those fingers wound even lower to his bindings and phony breasts, Cloud cooed, “Do you believe that God truly created Adam and Eve to be happy together, Sephiroth?”
It was quite the strange method and unusual way to divert attention, buy time, and all for the hope that Sephiroth wouldn’t continue making him feel so wonderful and blissfully drunk on rapture.
Bashfully gazing at the veil and knots in his slash coming undone layer by layer, Cloud bucked off the flat surface of the ground when Sephiroth boldly slid an arm beneath his waist to prop him up.
Unabashedly, he gazed at Cloud, sliding his hand now into his sleeve in order to loosen the straps of his robe and tug it down his shoulders.
“I’ll believe whatever you want me to believe, Cloud.” Pausing to distract the adolescent by kissing the first bit of flesh revealed, he gasped in awe between showering his dainty figure in his sensual kisses.
Head reeling, toes curling, heart slamming repeatedly into his chest, all of it was from the onslaught of such unimaginable pleasure Sephiroth was delivering to Cloud. His mouth, the tip of his tongue, and his sharp teeth coordinated well enough to occasionally pepper his skin with nibbles, suckling, and lathing.
Eyeballs rolling deep into his skull, Cloud’s head flopped back, head knocking into what he thought was the ground due to how rough it was...no, it was warm. Sephiroth had worked his free hand beneath Cloud’s head on time, cradling him protectively while showering so much attention lower and lower down the pallor of his throat.
Working his way over his collarbone, while Cloud was in an entirely different realm, Sephiroth opened his eyes to capture the reactions, hands still tugging the sleeves of the robe down until he’d effectively revealed a few inches of Cloud’s bosom.
Wriggling around as gooseflesh took over every portion of his torso, Cloud moaned when the fabric of the General’s robe hit his back before the grass blades tickled his spine next. So far gone in the midst of rapture, he failed to notice that Sephiroth’s oral ministrations had slowly ceased as his sharp eyes zoned in on the rest of Cloud’s sternum.
Nipples extremely stiff and sore as his body had now memorized and grown quite addicted to lips dancing and sliding with a wet tongue over his pink epidermis, Cloud froze, shifting his head up to question why Sephiroth had stopped.
In a blinding, speeding rush of utmost terror and panic, when he glanced at Sephiroth and caught where his eyes lingered, he began hating and cursing himself to the ends of the earth.
The thick layer of cloth Cloud had always tightly wrapped around his chest was now decently exposed in the open. The General was eyeing it in a blend of horror and confusion, fingers curling around the top of the covering. Inching it down far enough, he audibly gasped when he looked upon flat breasts sporting pink, stiff nipples.
Yelping as his hands flew up and fixed the cloth back in place to hide his areolas from view, Cloud then squirmed as he turned beet red. Fingers involuntarily twitching, he scrabbled in the dirt, working his hands around until he fetched his veil and used even that to hide his chest from the General.
Unfortunately, it was much too late. Despite the shadow the fabrics brought, the image of the flat chest was no doubt badly and potently engraved in the shocked warrior’s mind.
Giving Cloud the space he needed in order to press the cloth around himself as he sat back, the General moved up onto his own knees, a trembling hand moving to clamp over his gaping mouth. Forcibly shutting it, his eyes flitted up and down Cloud’s frame, trembling chin revealing itself when his hand eventually fell away from his mouth.
Head lowering as he avoided looking anywhere near Cloud, his eyebrows tightened and then relaxed as he croaked awkwardly, “Si-Sister...Cloud...uh...what...what was...what was that?”
Fighting back hot tears and acute frustration with his own pathetic body, Cloud fell deeply into despair he didn’t wish to present as his spirits darkened. Significantly, every woe and nascent concern he’d entertained had fallen into his lap, but this was no nightmare he could wake and walk away from, much to his dismay.
Aiming not to lash out at Sephiroth for only being curious and shocked as he had every right to, Cloud shimmied on his bottom as he whispered in a rush, “It’s my body. It’s what I have.”
Choking on his saliva and next words, it required a great amount of self-awareness and control before Sephiroth could speak again. “But...why do...” Cringing at his own tone, he then shook his head as he tried again while tugging on his right arm. “But why is it uh...like that?”
Providing the only reply in the way of logic he had left within his scattered mind and panicking soul, Cloud rasped, “I’m...it’s just...underdeveloped because I grew up without much food in the village, all thanks to bastards like you who stormed in and destroyed everything we had!”
There wasn’t rationally any reason why he had to bring up the sordid past other than to divert attention from his own pathetic, sorry existence. Upon being seen this way, since it wasn’t ever a part of his intention, Cloud felt even angrier with the urge to run and hide.
Voice cracking like that of a child’s, he was thrown deeper in the seat of mortification and wanted nothing more than to escape at that instant. In his mind, from his twisted view, Sephiroth hadn’t necessarily meant to mock and provoke him, but that’s what ended up happening anyway.
Truly disappointed and hurt, Cloud couldn’t work to separate Sephiroth’s former moments of unconditional kindness with his own humiliation. With a less than refined snarl befitting that of an unhinged monster, he snatched away his discarded clothes, not even trying to take time to place them properly on his own person.
Dashing ahead, he left the General there in the middle of the spacious field, astounded and highly hurt without a word of protest and thought to chase Cloud down.
✞———————❖———————✞
Though not sinister in his pursuits of the past when it came to winning Cloud’s affections, ever since their awkward moment in the field, the once so dogged General Sephiroth ceased pursuing Cloud entirely.
It was a clear day and night change Cloud immediately took notice of since it was so unbecoming. Rooted from their argument, no doubt, the seeds of discord had already taken firm foundation to separate the two young men. They didn’t dare seek one another out, practically strangers to themselves even though the warrior of the Celts still remained in the abbey.
With added flourish, the formerly smitten warrior now actively strove to avoid Cloud at all hours of the day without fail. The efforts were minor and meager at first, with General Sephiroth waiting half an hour before and after meals to consume his own portions until Cloud had exited the dining hall. In the following days, he completely avoided all times prayer and mass was held, knowing fully well that Cloud was required to participate.
His absence from those sessions soon became the topic of gossip from the nuns, theories for his lack of presence ranging all the way from a mysterious illness like the plague all the way to lovelorn for someone. In the end, Sephiroth eventually did reappear at times, but whenever he was heading for the same direction in the halls as Cloud, like a frightened lamb, he would freeze, bolt away, and make himself scarce within seconds.
Left so incredibly insulted when he held one end of the dark secret for why the General hated being near him suddenly, Cloud began renewing his self-deprecating thoughts. Despising the way he was made, born, and had been raised without a fair chance at wielding such strength as the General, he turned his rage and resentment towards the other male as well to the point of tossing him filthy glares whenever he caught sight of him nearby.
Of course, it all bounced and easily rolled off the warrior since he started acting as though Cloud didn’t exist. There was at least little reason to watch and wait for the General to spill his secret. By the looks of it, Sephiroth wasn’t even open to speaking with anyone for a little over a week. If anyone ever did approach him warmly, he would simply close himself off to their welcoming conversation and turn into a rock.
Eventually, once the wave of fear ceased festering within the General’s mind, while he wasn’t quite the same around the women, he at least made himself more sociable. No longer hiding away in his room and within the shadows, rather than staying around Cloud, however, he began insisting on being in Sisters Scarlet’s and Tifa’s company.
Certainly, that only served as prominent disrespect towards Cloud. Salt was now being deliberately rubbed in his wounds without a chance for the scorned youth to properly comprehend his own feelings in the matter. He only knew he simply had no say; General Sephiroth was incessantly building a friendship and spending quality time not with him anymore, but with two women who were no doubt highly obsessed with him.
Now fully going out of his way to get some answer as a means of closure given how envious he was, Cloud truly started loathing his Sisters. Never having felt such warped hatred for the young women as he currently was, he started fixating on everything they possessed that he didn’t and cemented it in his own haunting reality.
Feeling guilty for his lack of breasts, enticingly wide hips, and a generally curvaceous form as they were born with, he thought for hours before sleeping of a plethora of ways to make their appearances less pleasant and appealing to the Celtic warrior.
How he wished he could scrub and erase their beautiful eyebrows and lashes. Desires pooled into his brain entailing burning their hair off, covering their bodies in thick mud, and leaving them among cattle to be mocked, but each time he woke, Cloud was faced with a grin reality that depicted otherwise. They were too gorgeous, their faces filled with color and lovely shades his own pale, plain complexion never held, and he resented them for that among a list of other attributes.
The General was occupied in the garden one fine morning, equally as busy as the other girls as well as Cloud with preparations for the upcoming autumn season. Due to the lingering war, food, beverage, bedding, and medicine was becoming trickier to come by, which suggested that they all had more important things to plan ahead for if they were to have a fighting chance for surviving through this year.
As much as there wasn’t any room left for his petty attitude and disposition, the second Cloud entered the garden and caught Sister Aerith first tending to a goat, when his eyes then landed on Sisters Tifa, Yuffie, and Scarlet nearby as well, his mood quickly turned sour.
Not as productive as he’d hoped to be, he only gave Sister Aerith a curt nod of recognition and phony politeness. The targets on his mind were the other three girls as they sat around the General. The moment Cloud had emerged from the bushes and shadows, their chipper voices died down into hushed tones, their glowing eyes moving around this frame accordingly while they pretended not to stare at him. As such, it was clear to see that they had indeed been talking about him when he’d been gone.
Only Sister Aerith possessed some form of compassion for his sake, petting the goat while it feasted on some grains and oats in a bucket.
“Good morning, Sister!” Milking the animal for a moment, she released its swollen udders as she then looked at the tall warrior currently bent over a large flower bed. “We were just gathering flowers and milk in order to make more cheese.”
That didn’t really need to be explained since he could gather that on his own. Feeling rather belittled now when she perhaps was trying to be friendly and inclusive, as the heavy blanket of silence and bitter tension worked its way around the large garden, it poisoned every inch of his mind. Somehow, Sister Tifa clearly wanted no part of it, moving around to squat by the quiet General while he picked and chipped away at rocks and gravel in the flowerbed in order to clear the small mess.
Backs turned to Cloud, they only left him to look at Sisters Yuffie and Scarlet, the older female cocking an inquisitive brow infused by disdain for his presence there suddenly.
Remembering his goal to do more than seek amends, Cloud hooked his gaze on the General as he pretended to be busy. It was clear that he was listening, not at all paying much mind to Sister Tifa while she giggled in his ear and tried to inform him about the different types of flowers planted around.
Standing taller with more interest and renewed fascination on the matter he held in his heart and on his agenda, Cloud ignored Sister Scarlet trying to get in his way as he demanded quite aggressively, “May I please speak with the General?”
Naturally having her own musings the second the warrior twitched upon hearing the request, Sister Scarlet laughed cruelly. “About what, might I ask?”
Turning his nose snobbishly at her, Cloud replied, “It’s personal.”
“Hmm, well then. It’ll have to wait, Sister.” Gesturing around the effulgent garden with expansive vegetables and growth all around, Sister Scarlet added, “We’re quite busy, you see.”
Understanding that and already well prepared to take that on a smug answer, Cloud crossed his arms over his chest and plopped himself against a wall. “So be it. I shall wait.”
Uptight as the General, now, alarm moved around and between Sisters Scarlet and Tifa. Even Sister Aerith ceased milking the goat, biting on her lower lip as her face turned pink.
Birds from afar could be loudly heard even though they were rather gently singing, the wind whistling by as the goat bobbed its head in full gratitude while flicking its white tail.
Eventually, Sister Scarlet cleared her throat as she pointed out widely, “Yes, well, I could also give you something to do...see, someone needs to go into town and sell extra cheese we prepared, and although it’s my turn for a walk, I think you should handle it.”
Having firmly made his mind on remaining put, Cloud shook his head and growled, “I can stay and help here.”
Backing down mildly, Sister Scarlet wound her arm around Sister Yuffie and pulled her close. “Certainly, but—”
Stepping in to help, the General cried out without even looking at Cloud, “I’ll go. I need to clear my mind anyway.” When all the young women openly gaped at him, he winced as he supplied under tension, “A change of scenery will do wonders for me as well.”
Exchanging a broken glance between Sister Tifa and the warrior, though he never even bothered to offer anything else, Cloud let his arms fall away from his chest as he scrambled to speak.
Standing up and stretching, Sister Tifa surprised everyone as she offered in a chirp, “I will go with him!”
Almost too frightened to even think of Sister Tifa alone with the man he wanted, Cloud suddenly belted out loudly, “No! I’ll go with him because Sister Scarlet asked me first!”
This profuse outburst terrified everyone aside from Sister Tifa. Viewing her competition as far beneath herself, she scowled at Cloud, taking a step back towards the stoic General while he shrugged her arm off his back.
“I thought you said you wanted to stay here?” Far too annoyed with Cloud vacillating constantly, she squinted at him and deeply set her hatred in daggers that could’ve sliced and torn apart flesh.
The goat chuffed at once, drawing Sister Yuffie towards it as she gently touched the animal’s horns. Sister Aerith sat rigidly on her stool by the creature, petting it slowly while she too awaited the outcome of the tiny bickering and psychological war brewing between Tifa and Cloud.
Beaming rather sarcastically at the raven-haired female he was growing to despise with each passing second, Cloud offered her nothing short of contempt. “The walk will help me.”
Swift to communicate his desires to avoid being with Cloud too easily, the uncomfortable General swallowed and began digging into the thick piles of mud and dirt. “Very well. I shall remain here and focus on strenuous work.”
At once, Sister Tifa kicked at the ground as she fiendishly hissed, “Fine. Then I am staying here with the General to tend to the flowers.”
Clapping her hands and frightening the goat and Sister Yuffie, Sister Aerith crudely barked, “That’s great! We can all get to work now, and someone can sell our cheese before evening!”
No...he was right back to where he’d started. Nothing in the way of progress was made if Sister Tifa would be here with the General to laugh and share in joy, all while Cloud was abandoned in his state of misery and suffering. It wasn’t fair to be discarded and easily forgotten when he’d been so cherished and wanted before. There wasn’t any conceivable way for him to even have a chance with the aloof General, not when he had to compete with naturally compelling beauty and radiance that Sister Tifa was gifted with.
At the sight of Sister Tifa laying her palm on the top of General Sephiroth’s head while gleaming brightly at him, Cloud was instantly close to imploding. Shaking madly on the spot, heat grew all around himself despite the tiny drizzle already settling across the atmosphere. The wind gusted a bit strongly around his slender frame, but he didn’t feel the icy cold as he kept his eyes on the General’s broad back.
Offering him her now closed jug of milk and cheese, Sister Aerith hardly held it up for Cloud to take when he suddenly lashed out with viperous speed.
Swiping and snatching the jug away from her and holding it up to his own chest, purposefully, he slammed the thick, inanimate object into his bosom so badly that it did indeed create significant pain he sorely needed to feel to fuel his apoplectic rage. With one final glance all around the silent garden, he hugged the jug closer to himself, huffing away, his choices fully made.
Holding onto his pride and dignity, he crept back as he almost shouted in outrage, “Fine! I’ll sell the fucking cheese!”
Nothing else needed to be stated to communicate his insatiable anger. If they wanted him gone, he would see to it that they were granted their wish.
Burning with envy and far too much rage for them all, Cloud twisted himself around, shoulder slamming into the gate door, and in a few quick strides, he burst out of the garden to head into town.
After his speedy departure, Sisters Yuffie and Scarlet broke away from each other, the younger nun scratching at her side as she whispered in confusion, “What does fucking mean?”
Rolling her eyes, Sister Aerith planted her hands on her hips as she sent chagrin around at Sisters Tifa and Scarlet. “One of you should go with her.”
In no mood to acquiesce to such a brazen, crazed suggestion aimed mostly at herself, Sister Tifa frowned as she waved Sister Aerith off. “Why would I do such a thing?”
Shrugging in hopelessness, Sister Aerith replied, “Because she’s heading in the wrong way.”
Flippant enough despite that alarming set of news, Sister Tifa sat herself down on a bench next to the flowers. “That’s her fault for being so angry then.”
“Yes,” Sister Scarlet agreed, wiping her brow when raindrops landed on her clean flesh. “She’s got no sense running around in the rain anyway, so let her be.”
Together, as they picked up their tools and ushered the goat into a stable to avoid the storm settling in, once they retreated indoors for shelter, no one noticed the General still out in the garden, nor did they see him looking beyond the gate with a heavily tormented, but ultimately concerned expression.