He woke up on wet grass and patches of mud, staring up at gray swathes crawling over a monochrome sky and pelting him with raindrops. He stared up into the downpour, and then he laughed because he thought he should, because this was what he'd wanted--he was free.

He rolled off the grassy patch and ran out of the park; his surroundings were easily recognized even through a veil of rain. This was his neighborhood, the place where he'd grown up. Feet pounded through puddles spread over bricked streets as he rushed, rushed, rushed, faster and faster, only one thing on his mind:

Aerith. He had to find her, show her he was all right.

The deluge had soaked his hoodie through by the time he reached the porch of her home, but that just made him knock more energetically. He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering as the door opened. The first thing he heard was a shriek so full of joy it neared hysteria. Slender arms wrapped around his neck as his friend threw herself at him, pulling the hood off his head and nearly knocking him down. It didn't matter, he didn't care; not when she sobbed, "You're back, you're back, I missed you...!"

"Sorry," he murmured. He paused, then started to lift his arms to hug her (he should hug Aerith, she should be smiling), but then she drew back--and she stiffened, her watery green eyes clouding with confusion.

"You're not..." The tears started leaking out, first trickling, then running, and she let him go. "You're not him..." Her voice shook; she sniffled.

He stared at her crushed expression. Shouldn't you be happy to see me? "What's wro--"

There was no answer. She spun on her heel and ran back in her house, her pink ribbon vanishing up the stairs; her father came to the door with a wan, sad smile as he explained that one of Aerith's friends had disappeared months ago and--well, it was unfortunate, but he seemed to have reminded her of Zack. But she'd feel better soon, don't worry; now, what was he here for? Running errands in the rain? Come in, come in, you'll catch a cold...

The boy shook his head, feeling numb. "Thank you, sir, but I have to go." It was like his voice had to cross worlds just to reach his own ears.

No, he hadn't been given a good answer, he thought as he meandered through the rainy city, shivering with full force. It didn't make sense that she was so sad to see him. She should have been happy--

and he should be upset

--she should have laughed--

and he should be crying

--because everything was fine now--

because nothing was right

--because he was Zack.

He caught a flash of movement in the corner of his eye, and turned to stare at the ghostly boy that looked at him through a store window. He looked like him, just a little smaller, a little more baby-faced; a younger brother, maybe. The other boy had blue eyes just like him, and even spiky hair, dampened down by the rain even though he was insi--

No. He grabbed a strand of his hair, forcing his eyes to focus on the blond hair that should have been black. That wasn't another boy. That was his reflection.

He wasn't Zack anymore.

And even worse, he still couldn't bring himself to feel anything.