Shadows Keep on Changing

Note ; I don't own Kingdom Hearts. The game and its characters belong to Square(Enix) + Disney. Not me. Words in italics represent words that are from the past/echoed in his head. Bold italicsare a dream.

Her soft laughter filtered through the room; emerald eyes adorn with a soft joy, lips curled in a smile of femininity. The braid her long brown locked was pulled into brushed against her back with every elegant step. Fingertips ran along the spines of countless books, read and unread, fiction and nonfiction, novel and poetry.
Her nimble and petite frame moved over to the man against the wall, arms crossed against his chest, head hung and eyes closed. He looked like he was in an uncomfortable, yet peaceful, slumber. But she knew he was not; being around him for so long taught her such.
The smile grew and she bent down a little, emerald eyes peering up at his serene face.
"Aerith?"
"It's me." Her voice was soft and sweet, like a songbird. "Is there something bothering you?"
"No." Even if there was, it wasn't like he was going to tell her. Whatever was on his mind was his own problems, not hers; those dreams, fuzzy memories, and familiar voice that rang through his head belonged to him.
She only smiled and said, "words aren't the only thing that tell people what you're thinking."
His head snapped up at the words, a sense of familiarity within them as they rolled off her tongue. That hadn't…he didn't know why but those words made him feel uncomfortable, as if they should not be coming from her but another person. Someone he knew. Someone he…forgot. Someone that was important but that he had lost, a long time ago.
Someone he was…
'I found her.' He thought, pushing off the wall and let his arms fall from his chest. His blue eyes fell to the pink adorned woman before him and studied her. 'She's right here, before me. This was who I was looking for all this time. Right?'
"Go and get some sleep." Her smile faded a little, replaced by motherly care. "You look like you need it."

"I've known you since we were children and I always thought we were close..."
 That voice again; every time he found himself drifting off to sleep it would come; haunt his fragmented thoughts with its familiarity.
Who did it belong to?
"After you left town, I really thought about you a lot."
 It was so soft, caring, lost. It held such an array of emotions that it hurt to even listen to the wods. Listen to…whoever it was speaking to him. Was this speaking or was it just faked memories that wanted to take over?
No, they weren't. They couldn't be.
There was just something so—
"Why don't the two of us sneak out of here and spend some time together?"
 He blinked, gaze falling to the door of the room. A fuzzy, blurry form of a woman in a white tanktop, short black skirt, and long, flowing brown hair stood there—her eyes caught his attention first, however. Large, bright, and filled with mischievous joy the wine-red hue of them was almost entrancing. But this…it was a…memory?
But she was gone as soon as she had appeared.
There was no one there at the door.
It had all been but his imagination. It had to have been. Why would he be thinking such things now? There was no real reason to be thinking of a person he didn't remember, someone he didn't even know. So he pressed the thoughts away, blue gaze grazing across a mirror in the farthest corner and stopped; there were people in it, acting out a corny play about true love and how it was the only way to defeat the 'evil dragon king'.
With the blink of his eyes it was gone, replaced with something else. Two people on a gondola ride. One looked so unsure, the woman—the one he had seen earlier?—stared worriedly, shyly, down at her gloved hands and tried to gather her thoughts. The other was enjoying the ride, the man—was that...him…?—stared out of the gondola window, watching whatever went by.
"Sometimes being old friends is hard. I mean, timing is everything."
 That unsure tone, shaking with fear of being rejected. When had this happened? Why couldn't he remember it? Who was she…?
"Cloud...?"
 She…knew his name?
"I… ..."
 She? SHE WHAT?
Why couldn't she have finished the sentence, let whatever words she wanted to say just flow out without a care in the world?
And he sighed, shaking his head and closing his eyes. 'Forget it.' Leaning back to the bed he slipped beneath the covers, rolled to his side, and willed himself to sleep. If he could flee from the insanity of reality maybe he could live in the sanity of dreams.

He glanced to the left, staring at metal walls unadorned with rust and coloured a dull gray in the odd lighting. He glanced to the left, staring at the exact same thing. He glanced over his shoulder, looking at a ladder that led up and to the door of wherever the hell he was. He glanced in front of him and, unblinking, found himself looking at the trembling form a young girl—her brown hair falling over her shoulder and along her back, cowgirl hat threatening to slip off the top of her head, hands shaking and painted with the drying blood of the unmoving figure at her knees.
It felt so familiar, as if it was something from his locked mind that wanted to bubble through.
 …why did he want to remember it?
 "Papa..."
 The blonde man tilted his head quizzically at her back, listening to her half-sobbing voice.
 "Sephiroth?"
 A small wave of shock ran through him. She knew that bastardly, silver haired man? She knew that black winged man?
 …how?
 "Sephiroth did this to you, didn't he?"
 Her head shook, voice breaking with heavy sobs of pain. Her father gone. Her home was being destroyed. Her childhood friend was no where to be found. She was all alone.
 "Sephiroth... SOLDIER... Mako reactors... ShinRa... Everything!"
 He winced at a soft buzzing in his head, fingers twitching at the words she spoke.
 "I hate them all!"
 She reached out for the sword that lay at the dead man's side and…


 She knew there was something on his mind, something that was bothering him and haunting his thoughts. The way the fire flickered and illuminated his face, made his eyes turn a deep shade of reddish-blue, caused his hair to gain a ring of fire. There was something…about all of that. It made her want to pull him into a hug, tell him things would be all right, make him feel like there was someone there for him to lean on while he searched for the answers.
And even though that the person was someone she could never be, she could still be his friend. Until that person came, she could take care of him and watch over him.
"Cloud..."
…and she was here.
Aerith smiled and stood, using her hand to brush off the dirt that had collected on the back of her pastel-pink dress. Looking over a smile painted her lips and her emerald eyes showed a sweet hope to them; the woman who had just found her way to them, who has accidentally stumbled upon the silent pair…she was there and, now, Aerith felt she could leave for a bit.
Raising his head and clearing his thoughts Cloud shifted his gaze to a pair of shoes, fire reflecting off the metal on them. White socks laid beneath them and only a pair of long, peach toned legs led upwards.
The familiar yet unfamiliar person sat down beside him, hands moving to her lap and eyes fixating on the crackling fire. How long had it been…?
"Bonfires are funny, aren't they?"
Cloud blinked at her, listening to her voice and taking in her appearance; he wanted to remember who she was, wanted to remember why her voice was so familiar and why she made him feel like she was someone important. Someone he should know. Remember.
Her head tilted and the chocolate colored bangs brushed her forehead, wine red eyes moving to his face and searching it. Answers; she wanted answers and words and comfort of him knowing she was there.
"I guess they are," he muttered, finding the words and silently cursed himself for even speaking up to her. She was a stranger. He didn't know her.
But she smiled—hidden sadness dwelt within it—and shrugged her delicate shoulders, hands rising to her chest and fell just above her heart. The red of her eyes, intensified by the fire, lost him and he inwardly flinched as hand moved out and fell to his cheek, fingers brushing along until they found his shoulder and then the wing.
Drawing her hand away, the brunette looked back to the fire and sighed.
"Is there som—"
"They make you remember all sorts of things."
And her body twisted to face him, pushing forward and tackling into him. Her arms were around his waist and holding tight, needing, and hopeful that she wouldn't be shoved away. Her head was pressed against his chest and it hid the tears that were beginning to slip from her eyes.
He didn't move. He didn't push her off. He let her hug him, cling to him, conceal herself away from whoever—whatever?—it was she wanted away from. This was…it felt almost right.
"Ti…fa…"
Cloud felt his eyes widen at the sound of the name that rolled off of his tongue, out of his mouth. How did he remember that? Where had it come from?
"Tifa…" His arms moved about her waist and he pulled her into a loose, unsure embrace. He wished he could remember more about her—other than her name and things that were slowly coming back to him. But she didn't seem fazed, her arms only squeezing tighter.
He finally found who he was searching for.