Funny.

The moment I first met you, you standing next to Cloud, I was jealous. Both of you made a perfect match. It didn't take a jealous woman like me to decipher that. You were perfect for him and his heart was taken by yours.

The first thing I had on my mind was to be your enemy. That's right. To secretly despise you and torture you in my mind, perhaps one day, be rid of you. How, I don't know. I suddenly want to be Cloud's everything since you took that away. Well, me and my demented thoughts.

It would have been so much easier to hate you if you were a bitch.

You realized it too. You saw that I loved him. You knew you could take him at any time. You knew that by talking to me, you could have made Cloud loved you at any moment.

You didn't. You didn't go any further. You stopped and only smiled mysteriously towards him and then to me. It was not a devious smile or a haunting smirk that would burn in my memories. When you smiled at me every time, I knew. You didn't want me to get hurt.

Many times, Cloud would bring up a little trivial issue but you would sweep it under the carpet rug and take me by the arm. You energetically announced the party every time: girl talk. I didn't think you would get me to spill all of my feelings, my past, the burning pain beneath my feeble smiles. I didn't even think you'd get to relate to how I felt.

Funny, isn't it that you could ease my anxiety.

You and I both knew we loved him. If I were stupider, I would have made up an excuse for myself that you were weak and an airhead. Another beautiful damsel in distress in the slums of the ugliest, darkest city in the world. You only thought about Cloud and the future of how many kids you could have with him.

Of course, it would have been easy for me to say that if you hadn't take all the burden the world shared with a simple smile, and get yourself killed by the man I told I hated with my existence. I could have complained you were grabbing the attention for yourself. Well, you aren't here to brag about it now. You're dead.

Your eyes watched us before. Watched Cloud and watched me. You saw our curious faces and you were relieved. You smiled. The sword went through you. It cut through your hair, through your skin, down your spine, out of your stomach. There was so much blood, I screamed too late for you to run. Too late.

I touched your face because I didn't believe it. I wanted to scream for you to run. Watch out. The madman. His sword. His face. That smirk. His eyes. My hand reached out. I hated it. I wanted to hate you but I couldn't. I wanted to stand in your place so I could hold his sword back, but I wasn't there in time.

All I can do now is to take over. For a moment, I worried and wondered. Your words. Another smile. It told me not to worry.

"If all you do is worry, then I guess it's not that big of a deal, now is it?" Then you say something about 'anticipation and decisiveness'. You said you grew flowers in a church because the world is so absorbed with themselves and their sadness. I would have said you were wrong, but you're right. Those flowers there are beautiful and give off light. Their colors are for the world to sleep peacefully. They are not for themselves. Flowers don't fawn over their beauty like women do. It shares its beauty and adds anything, everything into it.

They call you an animal, a test subject, a number, a Cetran, an Ancient, a woman, a flower girl. Most of them call you beautiful, enigmatic, cheerful, loving, benevolent, charming, nice, kind, wonderful, sharing, supporting.

I think 'friend' suits you a lot better now, doesn't it?