Disclaimer: Square Enix is the rightful owner and creator people of Final Fantasy Seven. I hereby claim no intent to profit, gain, or benefit from this fiction.

A/N: Gift fic for my Two Betas. Mystic 777 and Angel-chan.

There was a price of fame and responsibility that no one had ever thought Cloud Strife would be 'asked' to pay. He had once dreamed of being a hero and had once nearly given up on those dreams until Zack Fair had died for him. He had an icon of sacrifice between himself and the rest of the world in Aerith Gainsborough for selflessly giving herself for them all. He soon came to the conclusion that these two people had given everything and more for their beloved world and cherished people. He could do no less then to protect what they had left behind and cherish it as if he was them…

In some terms, Cloud come to discover, it meant more then acting out the occasional battle.

It meant more then just walking through the streets and giving the orphans an occasional smile or helping out at the bar when times were just a bit tougher for everyone.

No, it was quickly being made evident that drunken SOLDIERs could not be left alone with out interference.

From him.

Cloud's right fist cocked back and slammed heavily into the man's stomach. He might not have been a SOLDIER, but Zack had been… and this Luxiere had been one of his friends. He could do no less then bring him back to reality and decipher the problems plaguing the now deemed useless Supermen of Shin-Ra.

"Enough." he barked, drawing on the man's military training to order obedience into him. "What the hell is going on with you guys?"

"Useless. Shin-Ra can't pay us, Gaia don't want us, and the rest of the world doesn't need us." Luxiere mumbled between pants of air.

Cloud knew that feeling intimately. "Why don't you find a purpose then?" he asked him.

"No one wants Soldier these days."

"You don't have to be Soldier to be needed, you know." Cloud told him, raising his eyes until their own met. "I know who you are, Luxiere, despite the circumstances. Perhaps you and the other Soldiers can consider other dreams now? The orphans out there need strong people to look up too."

"Orphans shouldn't look up to monsters…" Cloud broke his nose.

"Soldiers are never monsters." Cloud growled. "Zack wasn't a monster. He died a hero for what he believed in. Honor his death and the deaths of those like him by crawling out of your cesspits and doing something with yourselves."

So it was that the remains of the once proud and honorable Soldier took their resources, rebuilt the Barracks in Edge and named the first school of learning.

The Institute of Fair Learning, a boarding school were the former Soldiers would bend their skills to teaching the new generations the things they had nearly forgotten. All because a single man, deemed a failure by many and a hero to the rest, reminded them of a choice every living being made.

Monsters aren't born. Nor can they be crafted like tools.

Monsters are those who choose that path.

Cloud smiled the day he saw the group of ragtag orphans off to school, his sword weighing heavily behind him as the Soldiers waved greetings at him. It would take time, he knew, but these men were destined to be SOLDIER since they dreamed of it.

All Soldiers faced a choice.

Become a hero or become a monster.