So, I know some people really liked my story Onyx, which was a rather introspective story drabbling about Zack's view of a time-travelling Cloud (Link is in my profile if you want to read it. It's not necessary for comprehending this one, though; they can really be read in any order.)

This is sort of a companion to Onyx, from Aerith's point of view. This was a bit of a rush since I wanted to get it uploaded tonight, so if you see any mistakes, please, tell me.

Bon appetit!

green symphony

The Planet spoke.

As she sat in the center of the abandoned church, her hands buried wrist-deep in soil and her knees imprinted with gravel and dirt, Aerith listened. Though the young Ancient couldn't quite make out what it was they were trying to say, even as she leaned closer to the patch of yellow and white flowers in the hopes of being closer to the Planet, she had noticed that something had stirred them. But her gardening, though it aided the flowers, was to no effect on that front – the jumble of excited voices, normally a gurgling brook, had recently become a tumultuous windstorm of eager whispers; she could find no meaning in their chatter.

Something had excited the Cetra, and they were vibrant, pleased. Compared to their usual sluggish drawl, their voices normally muted by iron girders and copper pipes and cold, Shin-Ra steel, this vivacity was both a welcome and worrying change. Nothing ever animated the Planet quite like this – normally she was slow-paced, ancient, a silent guardian.

Shaking the dirt from her fingers but not caring to remove the grains from beneath her nails, Aerith fought down the surge of fresh frustration. In due time, perhaps, the Planet would calm and she might be able to ask the voices what, exactly, had excited them so – or, hopefully that was how it would go. The Planet worked in mysterious ways, sometimes.

The Ancient caressed the flowers nearest to her with dirt-smudged fingers, murmuring a soothing word as she prepared to leave. Soon, Zack would arrive. They had a sort-of date scheduled, although neither of them was certain it could be called that. Zack had wanted very badly for her to meet his young friend, whom he spoke nothing but kind words about, and today was the day. They would arrive at the church not long from now, Aerith supposed, doing her best to dispel the prick of worried irritation the Planet's bizarre behavior had brought on.

The brunette gave a soft smile to the flowers as she rose, wiping her hands on a small hand towel that may have been white once upon a time. She turned just as the doors to the church gave the slightest of creaks, a sliver of dim Slums light slipping through the newly opened aperture to land on the decrepit pews. Zack's grinning face came into view, and Aerith's faint smile grew more relaxed. Something about him always made her smile – perhaps it was his heroic persona, or his carefree demeanor, the way he was always trying to look cool. It was so astoundingly different from the gloomy, cynical air most Slumsfolk carried. Something about Zack was refreshing… even admirable.

Behind Zack, clearly a bit reluctant to enter, was a head of blond hair. Though he was currently being ushered into view by the dark-haired SOLDIER, no more of Zack's small friend could yet be seen.

"Zack, I really don't—" The stranger's voice made its debut, a quiet, youthful voice that was strained by his hesitant tone. Aerith noticed that his voice seemed different, somehow, from that of most Slumsfolk, or from Zack's. Some kind of twang foreign to Midgar lay in the blond's voice, though the Ancient herself hadn't the slightest idea how to identify it.

"Nonsense, Cloud, Aerith'll love you!" Zack reassured his companion, his dulcet tones given an echo-like quality by the empty church. Turning towards Aerith, the SOLDIER stage-whispered across the room, "He's very shy." This was met with a vaguely amusing grumble of protest from Cloud, but within the next second Zack's friend relented, stepping over the church threshold to stand beside the dark-haired SOLDIER.

He was an infantryman, which Aerith didn't see as odd for Zack – he tended to befriend everyone, even Turks, who – from what the Ancient had gathered – were rather disliked by the SOLDIER department of Shin-Ra. The bizarre thing was that he would not meet her eyes, or even look in her direction – but he was shy, Aerith reminded herself, realizing she would have to be gentle with him. At first the boy's blue irises focused on the pews, crumbling and rotten, and then switched to the columns on the right edge of the church. Eventually, they landed on the flowers, which the infantryman – Cloud – stared at with a strange intensity.

Zack, upon realizing that Cloud was not going to introduce himself, took the task upon his own broad shoulders.

"Er, Aerith, this is my friend, Cloud," he began with only an inkling of awkwardness, leaving Cloud's side for a moment to meet the Ancient in the center of the aisle, between the entrance and her flowers. He gestured toward the brunette, who smiled gently. "Cloud, this is Aerith." Far more furtively than before, Zack whispered to Aerith, "Don't mind him… I, er, I think you just remind him of something. He gets… weird, sometimes." He shot a sidelong glance at the cadet as Aerith frowned in sympathy, and dropped his voice even lower, "I think he might have PTSD, but I have no idea how he could've…"

The Ancient turned toward the blond infantryman, her eyes full of pity, and she took in his conflicted expression as he stared at a column – he had looked away from the flowers at last, after having stared at them with that intense, unreadable expression. His blue eyes darted their way for just a fraction of a second before he turned his head a little away from them; Aerith got the distinct impression that he had heard every word Zack had spoken to her, but he didn't say a word.

As she gazed at the silent cadet, something in her heart gave a twinge. It wasn't quite pity. Or, perhaps it was… but there was something distinct about it. It wasn't just the sympathy of someone who saw a boy with issues, a boy she barely knew and could never relate with. It wasn't the same emotion someone feels when they meet a crippled soldier, or a man with a terminal disease – it was something similar, maybe. But it went far deeper than that.

The voices of the Planet, murmuring softly in the background, grew half a decibel louder.

Frowning in a cross between bewilderment and that bizarre feeling of sorrow, Aerith took a step past Zack, wanting to understand what, exactly, was happening. She didn't quite notice the Planet's increased volume, too caught up in her confusion to take note of such a small detail, but something about the infantryman before her was… strange. Infantryman, cadet, boy… none of these words seemed to describe him correctly, but what gave her that notion, Aerith didn't know.

Before she knew it, Aerith found herself standing before the young blond – that was the only word that could be used that seemed to fit him even a little, blond– and trying to catch his evasive eyes. He suddenly appeared… nervous. He cleared his throat quietly, and bit his lip, his gaze switching from the column to the Shin-Ra issue boots protecting his feet. But then he looked away from those, too, and stared at the rotting floorboards to his left.

"Cloud? It's nice to meet you," she voiced softly, delicately, fighting down her puzzlement in order to keep it from appearing in her tone. She gave a faint smile, trying to get some sort of response. Zack looked on from behind them, seemingly holding his breath. "I'm Aerith."

There was a choked sound. It might have been the lighting, but with a twinge of distress, Aerith noticed his eyes were glistening. Worry blooming in her chest, the Ancient touched his shoulder abruptly, bending down slightly to make contact with his lowered eyes.

"Hey, hey—" she began softly, an expression of concern wrinkling her brow. But as she did so, blue met green.

The voices of the Planet exploded into a symphony.

It's him, they whispered, but so fiercely it was a yell, it's him, it's him! He's come to us! It's him!

The Ancient snatched her hand back from the man's shoulder in sudden alarm, her eyes widening impossibly with shock. She couldn't keep the gasp in, and it slipped past her throat as she cradled her hand to her chest, but the voices didn't quiet back down and those blue eyes were still staring into hers, deep and anguished and ancient and it'shim. The voices penetrated her thoughts, only creating more chaos and confusion.

Behind them, Zack made a sound of confused concern, but no one noticed.

The Planet's call was unimaginably strong all of a sudden, the voices streaming together into a cacophony of rushing water, nothing like the gentle bubbling stream it was once comparable to – normally she had to be kneeling in the center of the church, her fingers embedded in soil and her face smudged with dirt and her flowers practically singing with joy and comfort, before it would become even that loud. For their song to be so vigorous, so booming, such an awful din—

It's him! the Planet cried exuberantly.

"Who are you?" she found herself whispering aloud, drawing back, astonished and dazed and maybe a little, tiny bit scared.

He stared back, eyes never straying, and somewhere in those blue depths he became pained – and she could swear she's seen that pain before, so familiar, in those same blue eyes and every time it's broken her heart – and his mouth set into a grim line. Something in him was hurt by the words, though no one seemed able to fathom why, and somewhere further inside those blue irises there was another, even stronger emotion. The Ancient wasn't sure how she could decipher it from the hurricane of emotions in those eyes, but it was there – guilt.

He drew back.

"I'm no one," he replied, his voice barely above the faintest whisper, barely audible above the vociferous rush of the Planet's fervor. "Just… Cloud Strife." He averted his eyes.

It's him – Cloud – our beloved WEAPON – great Protector, Guardian, Defender – him. WEAPON. Guardian, lovely hero – our greatest defense – he must protect us from harm, protect us from Calamity – destroy her, destroy her poisonous children – protect us – he is WEAPON, our Guardian, him—

Cloud turned away suddenly, and the voices dimmed as they broke eye contact; Zack tried to protest, his confusion growing greater. But the cadet - no, the soldier, the weapon... he either didn't hear him or didn't want to hear him, and the blond stranger – protector, guardian, WEAPON – soon disappeared past the large double door. As his quiet footsteps faded from the empty church, the voices abruptly returned to a muted hush.

But occasionally, even after his departure, Aerith could make out the word WEAPON – or even more frequently, him.

She didn't see him again for a long time.

Did I tell you it was a bit sad at the end?

Oh. Well, it's a bit sad at the end.

EDIT: Changed the last few paragraphs a little to clear some stuff up, and changed "She didn't see him again" to "She didn't see him again for a long time," because I suppose they might eventually meet again... it's not like anything horrendously horrible happens to any of them, as some people thought... But I'm not trying to foreshadow anything with this one, either, I swear!

Leave a review, please? :D I love knowing what you all think. Did I get Aerith's personality right? Cloud's?