Title: Antirequiem
Fandom: Dissidia Final Fantasy
Rating: PG-13
Length: 625 Words
Content Notes: References to past violence.
Author Notes: Ironically, I wrote this while listening to Phantasy Star remixes.
Summary: The experience of living through Dissidia is still receding for Cloud.

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A settlement growing from the ruins of Midgar – the locals called it Edge, but it had never stopped being Midgar to Cloud. Seeing it again after everything that had happened almost brought him comfort, but ... he had never been one to let anything go, both the good things and the bad, and one of the bad had been visiting him again and again in his dreams. Sephiroth. He had never expected to see him again. And how long had he been telling himself that? He had killed Sephiroth at Nibelheim, only to see him alive again – no longer human, but alive. And then he had killed him. Again.

And again – in the body of Kadaj, but no less Sephiroth. That should have been the end of it. Except that powers outside his control had transported both of them to a place where they had no choice but to continue their fight ... over and over and over. He had killed Sephiroth several times there, and had been killed by him several times in turn. Pain and death had started to lose their meaning, and it did not help that his memories of all those cycles of combat had started to dim immediately upon his return to Midgar, leaving him wrestling against impressions that had faded to sickness and nightmares.

Being a SOLDIER enabled Cloud to go for days without sleep, and he had done that many times in his journeys, but he seemed to dream about his experiences in that other world regardless of whether he had his eyes closed or not, as if the ghost of Sephiroth continued to linger deep in his soul long after he had perished for the last time. It made Cloud ask himself if he ought to leave his bed and go walking, see if fresh air and a cloudless night sky could clear his head. But he had no desire to leave the side of the person who shared that bed with him, the person who most helped him cope.

Terra lay there, curled up next to him, her eyes closed, her breaths soft and regular. Neither of them could explain how it was she had come back to Midgar with him, rather than back to the World of Ruin she had often described to him, but he could not imagine her – and he admitted the selfishness of this to himself – being any other place than by his side. Upon meeting her there, surrounded by all the dying, he had started living again, had been reawakened to who he was supposed to be, rather than continue as the killing machine he had become. He had started thinking of escape.

He smiled to himself in the darkness. I keep letting other people save me. When am I going to start saving myself? Aerith – he thought he could still hear her voice from time to time, reminding him to stay on the path. Tifa – she had been there with him, and she had returned in the company of Kain, another lost soul in need of redemption. The four of them visited together from time to time. And Terra. But it had been different for her. He had the sense that ... she needed him as much as he needed her. Another selfish thought. But she never needed saving. He stroked her hair. I think I still do.

She stirred a little in her sleep, saying nothing, only snuggling up closer to him. She had her share of nightmares, too, and he stayed awake to hold her, to comfort her through them. Maybe we both still have a long way to go. Perhaps, but the night started to seem quieter and quieter around them, as if the ghosts had receded.

END.