Crisis Core: The Novel

Chapter 43 - Mother

Rooming with Zack was like summer camp in elementary school.

"Psst, Cloud? Hey Cloud? What do you think about aliens?"

"Goodnight Zack." Cloud turned over in his bed, which was set up motel style across from Zack's. Quiet ensued for a few more seconds until...

"Hey Cloud, wanna hear what sound a raptor makes? WWWRRAAAAOOOWWRR!"

"Go to bed Zack!" Cloud chucked a pillow at him. He blocked it with a quick forearm. Quiet came at last, and Cloud could finally get to sleep.

Bor-rring.

So Zack cupped both hands over his mouth and blew the biggest cherry bomb in the history of the fourth grade.

Cloud was out of bed on top of Zack, punching him in the shoulders as he squirmed around laughing. They toppled out of bed, wrestling and knocking things over like the backyard boxing championships were going on in their room. Then...

BOOOOOOOOMMMM!

A huge fist slamming against Sephiroth's wall sent both boys leaping back into bed, quiet and still as mice for the rest of the night.

Mornings always came too early, and Zack was anything but a morning person. Nightmares of punching bags dragged his limbs out of bed in a zombified haze as he shuffled in his chocobo boxers to the bathroom. Finding it locked, he flattened himself against the door.

"AAAARRRRGGGG IT'S TOO EARLY! LEMME INNNNN!"

"I'm busy!"

"Hurry uuuuuppp!"

The toilet flushed and Cloud opened the door in striped briefs with a Sports Illustrated: Flowergirl Edition in his hand and a peeved expression on his face. Zack blinked, pointed at Cloud's boy-shorts and laughed like a jackal.

What do you say when some guy points at your junk and laughs? Cloud's thoughts clunked together like bamboo poles. Then, he noticed something—Zack wore boxers, he wore briefs. He stuck his nose in the air with a pomp resolve.

"Mine's bigger."

They brushed their teeth side by side in their underwear. Zack and Cloud talked about how they both had Native blood on their mothers' side, so they didn't have to mess around with the shaving thing. They used the extra time on their hair rituals. Zack took a handful of Palmade to his hair, slicking it back with one lone strand jutting out across his face like a rebel, he kinda liked it there. Cloud on the other hand stood with a pocket hair-straightener wrestling his hair down flat.

Aw, I remember that, Zack reminisced.

After a long and arduous battle involving massive amounts of ICE hair-glue and tears, he'd finally gotten all of his spikes to flatten. Zack studied him, poked one finger to his hair, and it all shot back up with the sound of an umbrella popping open.

"Aww no!" Cloud moaned, and Zack chuckled.

"Wear it with pride, man! You know what I used to go through to get my hair like yours?"

"Ugh, it's annoying! I look like a texture exploded or something." But then, Cloud brought his face close to the mirror and gaped in utter horror. "OH NO!"

A massive, monumental zit waved a big hello right on Cloud's forehead. Zack's eyes flew wide with glee. Puberty, how cute!

"Oh man! The war has started!" he teased. "Here lemme get it!"

"No!"

"C'mere! I've got a perfect angle."

"Ahhh, you're hurting me!"