Disclaimer:I do not own Final Fantasy VII, or its franchise, in any way possible. All characters and mentioned names belong to Square Enix.
/ Delicate. :: 01 - Misconception /
.. Aerith busily - and invisibly - tended to the flowers and hummed to a quiet song.
She was so used to this gardening work with her own flowers, always, not once complaining regardless of her knees or thighs hurting with all the kneeling and walking around and standing. Neither was she tired with the constant talking to the flowers - she believed that when a tender talked to them they felt and grew better, bloomed more beautifully. She'd heard this from the woman in her life she was able to grow up around and be cared for by - Elmyra.
… How many years had it been? She couldn't count. She couldn't even remember the last time they had breakfast together, or went out for a little walk, under Midgar's plate then. Aerith couldn't comprehend either how she was able to take every tragedy in her life like it was just a slice of bread: not hearing from Zack but knowing that he had passed away because she heard the planet cry, knew her own death, seeing Cloud's own demise as he fell into mako poisoning, seeing all the friends she left behind become frustratingly dismayed but try their hardest to battle evil, see Midgar fall to ruins after Meteorfall… watch guilt itself float by and around some people. And then now, after all the trouble was over, what now? A sigh escaped her pursed lips finally, slowly, when she stood and looked up past the disheveled roof.
A glimpse of the sky brought her hope, if only for a very short while. She knew that if she headed out and watched everything again, there was a very strong chance of trouble starting up again and be triggered by whatever havoc-causing skunk that'd come by. But oh, no bother, she could pray to Minerva or the Lifestream to battle all the evil again. Or she could claim the White Materia again and counterattack the trouble.
But oddly, she was tired of it. Though, who was she to complain?.. She wasn't one to at all, though, she was a Cetra after all. And Cetra couldn't be pissed for whatever reason because… well… it wasn't in their nature to do so. However, that didn't mean she never felt dismayed in her entire life. Of course she did. She did when Elmyra passed away, she did when she lost Zack, she did when she saw children fall into the hands of the Remnants. And yet she bothered to be calm and save everyone - or at least help Cloud save the world.
But for how long could she keep it up?… Not so many people knew, but deep in her heart she felt so small. As small as a pebble could be, just tossed into the water for fun - or at least she felt at times; or to hit some random fish in the water for the heck of it. She felt… used. And sometimes convincing herself, "Oh well. I had to do it. And besides, I saved everyone, right?", didn't work at all.
That was how she felt now, thinking about things, especially when she prayed that one particular day at the altar. My, did that memory come to mind so many times. That day, she felt alone, though knowing she had to trample down the bone-and-fossil-ridden, ancient path to The Forgotten City, leading Cloud and her friends there, only to make them watch her as she knelt and prayed for what possibly was the planet's only salvation, Holy. She felt extremely frustrated inside about it - she didn't want to leave everyone, of course, but the mere fact that she was a Cetra made things so much decided.
And then when Midgar was in ruins, she heard cries from mortals that they were waiting for Shin-Ra to fix things. Or another savior to just make things so much more urban and pretty-looking in a snap. And then the Remnants came along. She felt the same thing, as if she was being pushed to come and save everyone again, make everything feel so much better. But Cloud saved the day, again, and for some reason she felt a sense of relief that he did it, and not her.
Well… that wasn't right. A Cetra is supposed to accept things as they are – more so if they are chosen for a task. It wasn't that she didn't accept that she was the savior of the world – it was that she felt so tired sometimes of hearing people hope for a savior – that it was her, again, mostly – and wondered if people ever tried saving themselves. She was aware it was quite a mean thought, but everyone gets tired at some point. She just couldn't complain about it, though – she felt it was rather immature of her.
If she could decide anything - or wish for, at least - it was that she could turn back time and tossed the White Materia to someone else. That could have helped alter things so much more.
Right now, though, she felt like a complete mess. A Cetra wasn't supposed to have this mindset – not at all. But she couldn't help it. Even saviors – or heroes, if she was ever one – felt down sometimes. She wished she could go back to the Lifestream and spend time with her mother… well, both of them, or just watch life float by. Rather than listening to the wiles of the world and frown upon every comment.