He lived in an arcade game based off a fighting game that was an homage to a number of games that weren't in the arcade, and might not even be arcade games at all. Dissidia: Final Fantasy's Cloud Strife had a feeling his programmed backstory had been confusing even before his home had been created, and now it was an outright nightmare. Nearly every playable character was supposed to have lost precious memories as the cycles of war progressed, and the game only spanned the twelfth and thirteenth, penultimate and final. He was a character who treasured memories in an arcade game that, light as the storyline was, focused on their loss, and he along with everyone else was only programmed to know what might be passed along to the player. They seemed to expect the player to already know an awful lot: neither he nor his enemy could remember how their enmity started, only that it went on and on, his-his-Tifa, she couldn't remember they knew each other-and none of them remembered the other girl in their set at all, even though logic said that with their set of characters focused so much on shared histories, the chances of the hidden assist-only girl not being a part of theirs were next to nil. The players certainly liked pairing her with him once they'd unlocked her.

Sometimes he wanted to glitch and put the game out-of-order just so he could have a day to figure this out.

"Looks like we're together again," Aerith said as they waited in the select-a-character chamber. Her voice was light and cheery and echoed off the close walls as she spun her staff once in her hands. At the moment she was wearing the white-and-blue floral sundress; he wondered if she was really meant to look so extraordinarily young. Was she supposed to be an adult like him, or a teenager? Her green eyes happened to meet his gaze, and he grunted and looked steadfastly away. There was a moment of silence as he checked his gear for the upcoming battle. "Uh, mister?"

Her voice suddenly sounded tight, and he looked at her again. "I told you, it's Cloud."

"Well, Mister Cloud," she said, and her voice was both trying playfulness and staying tight, "You might want to-"

He'd already figured out what she was focused on and looked for himself. Random selection had given them Chaos for an opponent.

"...Damn." He was killed by this guy every time someone played his Duodecim storyline. Did it have to happen in random battles too?

"Mm, this will be a tough one," she agreed as their arena became ready. At least it was a familiar one: the swirling green depths of a Planet. Supposedly it was part of the world they came from. "Be ready!"

It didn't really matter. In the arcade game, Chaos was one of those opponents so stacked in power that only an expert player would defeat him. Cloud could mentally curse each mistake in strategy and each fumbled button, but he wasn't stupid enough to glitch the game just to avoid a beatdown. It went against his policy, and that would be a losing strategy anyway when Chaos would immediately be out for his zeroes and ones after-hours, too. No, the only sensible thing to do was take his lumps like a fighter.

Though he hoped, for a moment, that he might actually be saved when he went flying through the air and saw Aerith appear ("I'm here!") beside him, preparing an assist. If she used one of her healing spells-

But no, Chaos was faster than her, and one last burst of his dark energy sent Cloud's world spinning dizzyingly into blackness.

"I...don't care anymore," he muttered. They had to say it, one last line before the pain would end, one last line to appease the player's disappointment as they watched their chosen character fall. Morbid. He popped back into existence in the select-a-character and immediately pitched forward, holding onto a wall for balance as he groaned. "Can't stand this part," he muttered to himself. The weakness and sudden displacement always made him feel sick. Sometimes he wondered if there was something buggy in his code, because while none of them particularly enjoyed dying, he was the only one who felt like spewing data bits when it happened.

Aerith popped into place a few feet away a moment later, turning to him. "I'm sorry," she said, and there was far too much apology in her voice for Cloud's liking. He waved a hand at her, still hunched over.

"Forget it," he said. "The player was screwin' around too much. It happens to everyone."

"It doesn't happen to me," she said. Her voice was placid, even as she watched Cloud with some concern. He noticed in the side of his vision that her clothes had changed to that one outfit that made her look almost like a princess, an elegant dress and jacket of pale pink and silver that he definitely shouldn't hurl on. He'd stay in his corner, thanks.

"...The nausea? Ugh..." He swallowed. "It's normal. It goes away." He just wished he didn't have to get it in front of his assists. He was a fairly well-balanced, straightforward character and didn't suffer losses too often in battle, but when he did, hoo boy. He still wanted to go in hiding whenever he recalled being doubled up against the shoulder of a very worried (yet still not remembering him) Tifa.

"Dying," she said. "I'm only an assist, so it doesn't happen to me."

He didn't answer, his eyebrows bunching up as he wondered what her tone meant. Was she expecting a response? He didn't have an idea what to say to that.

Her fingers lighted on his shoulder. "I hope you feel better soon, Cloud," she said, and more helpfully a wave of healing energy washed over him. He was surprised she'd bother to use it on such a small thing, but it did make him feel better. He straightened up, breathing in deep as her heels quietly click-clacked against the floor, and by the time he turned around to say thanks, she was already gone.

"...Huh."

He didn't see her for a while after that-she had to be unlocked by each player individually, so even if it was easily done she only came into play a few times a day, if she did at all. He on the other hand spent the daily playtime bouncing between Chaos' and Cosmos' teams, one of the things that made the game so frustrating for him. He hated nearly every teammate when he was on Chaos' side and was in turn treated like an enemy by the same people who were usually his friends. Kuja wasn't so bad, except then he felt lousy when he switched to Cosmos' side and plot dictated he'd forgotten about their understanding of each other: "We just met, but I won't miss you." He could have sworn 'jackass' was written directly into his code. Kuja treated everything as a staged play and professed not to care, that the irony of a former comrade's callous dismissal was amusing... Cloud simply wasn't programmed for that kind of mindset. He could be cold on the outside, but inwardly it bugged the hell out of him, and he often found himself subtly trying to make up for it and the whole mess of him being a dirty team-switcher somehow after arcade hours.

Though he had to question what in the world he was thinking when he ended up sneaking around Pac-Man's labyrinth for fruit to smuggle back to the game. Kuja had made it sound like such a good idea; after all, the drama queen wasn't the only one who liked to taste something sweet. Tifa and Terra would appreciate it too. Maybe Firion would like it, even.

But if Tidus or Vaan asked where the fruit had come from, he was denying everything. On that note, he was going to have to keep an eye on Vaan to make sure the kid didn't snatch up everything for himself.

So as the car pulled into Game Central Station, Cloud was already lurching to his feet, fighting down slight queasiness and attempting to juggle a cherry, melon, strawberry and two oranges-it was obvious what he was doing, which put him in a bit of a compromising position because, hello, smuggling objects across games.

And as the car pulled in, its lights shone directly on Aerith, who had a distinct Frogger-in-headlights expression as she stared at Cloud with a spray paint can in hand and a glaring red "AERI" already on the wall-it was obvious what she was doing, which put her in a bit of a compromising position because, hello, vandalizing the Game Central Station.

It was one of those rare occasions where Cloud broke the silence first. "I didn't see anything," he offered quietly, turning aside and moving to hide the fruit better before he went through a checkpoint. Even if he didn't remember her, he was pretty sure they were supposed to be friends. Or maybe it was simply what he hoped. Either way, it was really none of his business if she wanted to mark up the walls. It wasn't going to hurt anyone.

It was something he hadn't expected from the innocent healer, though, and he peeked at her from the corner of his eyes.

"Nothing to see here!" she agreed cheerfully, finishing the "TH" of her name. Tonight she was in her default outfit, a red jacket, dress and brown boot combination that was earthier than her other two. It was at least a little less ridiculous than finding her as a pale-pink-elegant-silver-high-heeled vandal.

Still very odd, though, and when silence reigned again he couldn't contain himself. "Marking your territory?" he asked. She belonged to his "group", this little gang supposedly from the same world, so it was his business if she was acting strange. "It's too soon for any of us to be going Turbo."

"Of course not," she said immediately and firmly, surprising him a bit. Their game was new enough that Tidus, "cool" blitz player that he was, had looked utterly lost when Cloud had mentioned the phrase the other night. He didn't have the heart to tell anyone that the reason he knew that bit of lingo was because Sephiroth's charmingly programmed personality was already becoming infamous in Game Central, and a no-nonsense military man had come around and barked at Cloud that if Sephiroth wanted him it was his imperative to remain in his game as much as possible so the menace's attention stayed in there, so help him if the kiddie games had to deal with a wannabe god. (Cloud had told him fine, he wouldn't wander too far, and they had better figure out a plan for Kefka because there was no way he was claiming the clown as his responsibility. Not his villain, and Terra shouldn't have to deal with him alone.)

Apparently Aerith knew the phrase's meaning, though. Maybe she went out to Game Station Central a lot. He didn't see her often with Cosmos' warriors after-hours, even though she seemed to get along fine with them, and he couldn't imagine her hanging around Chaos' side. It was surprising to realize now how she seemed both distant and friendly at once. He wondered if she had been like this in the original game too. Maybe the story they came from... had never had "Cloud" know "Aerith".

This might be none of his business after all. He grunted as he tore his eyes away, looking down at the floor. "Don't get in trouble," he advised as he started to the archway leading into the station proper.

"Wait...just a moment." Aerith put the spray paint can down, and slowly stood up, hands smoothing her dress down over her legs. "Cloud, what do you think of me? Are you mad? Disappointed?"

"No." He'd paused in the yellow arch and slowly turned his head back to her, though they weren't making eye contact. "...I'm confused."

She hummed. "I guess...the real question, is... do you remember me?"

He really hated being someone who cared about memories in a plot all about losing them. At the very least, couldn't the creators have put in some bonus content to be unlocked with Aerith, or something? "...Sorry."

"That's all right," she said with a faint smile. "I don't remember you either."

The same as Tifa. Except with Aerith he didn't even know if there was a relationship; he just felt like one should exist. He hunched in toward the wall. Maybe he should leave her alone already...

"I don't remember the first thing about anything, actually," she said, interrupting his thoughts. "I don't think I was ever meant to be part of the story. I think I'm here simply for the players to enjoy seeing, for their memories."

"We're all here for the players," Cloud said finally, and he could hear Kuja proclaiming all the world was a stage. Well, sure. Could they get a better-built one?

"You're right," she agreed. "But what I mean is...they say I die in the other game. Every time it's played, 'Aerith' dies. Some of them say I'm a spirit when I show up to help."

The "stage" had rafters; there were places closer to the screen where someone could listen in on players, especially a character like Aerith who was rarely needed in actual gameplay. How she'd overheard players wasn't a big deal, but what she'd heard... "You die...for good?" he asked, confused, a pang making itself known in his chest. There was the sudden thought that even if she would never die in Dissidia: Final Fantasy, she could die in other games...and if she did, she would never come back. But she was right here. She was all right.

"It's not a fighting game," she said gently. "The rules are different."

"Right..."

"I guess I'm thinking about funny things. You fight, and so does everyone else, and you all have stories to tell about yourselves... mine was over before my code was even written."

There wasn't much to say about that, so they both said nothing. She shook up the spray paint and he came around to watch as she painted a new word underneath: "LIVES".

'Aerith lives'.

"Is that the story you want to tell?" he asked, bemused. "It's short."

"But it makes for a good start, don't you think?"

"Yeah."

"You can help me think of the rest later."

"I'm not so good with stories." He didn't think so, anyway.

"Maybe you should have thought of that before criticizing mine," she said primly, except she had a smile.

He smiled a bit himself, and they enjoyed a companionable silence as the spray paint dried and the fruits settled in his bag. ...They were both awfully comfortable with petty rule-breaking, now that he thought about it. Which made sense for him, he was apparently meant to be bad enough to have stayed on Chaos' side for twelve cycles, but she was a healer. Wasn't something off about this? "...We should...probably go before someone comes," he said thoughtfully. "And catches you red-handed."

She checked her hands for paint, then raised an eyebrow at him. "Or sees that your rotten apple's spoiling the bunch?"

He almost looked in his bag to check his fruits' freshness when he remembered- "They didn't have apples in Pac-Man," he retorted, crossing his arms. She rose to her feet with a laugh and started leaving ahead of him to the station proper. She seemed a bit happier now, and he felt more confident about where she stood in their little group. Maybe a strange girl, but she was definitely a friend. If neither of them could remember how they were supposed to be...there was a part of his code that said it would always hurt, missing memories, but at least they were free to make their new ones outside of the story.

They were just leaving the tunnel and reaching the hubbub of the crowd when Aerith turned and grinned at him. "Catch!"

Still walking, he plucked the spray paint can out of the air, nonplussed. "What am I supposed to do with-" Sirens sounded off. "Aerith!"

She'd just passed through security squeaky-clean and led him to walk right into the checkpoint with her incriminating evidence. She apparently didn't play nice healer at all outside the game. Where had she even gotten the spray paint to begin with? He shoved the can irritably at the blue Surge Protector rattling off the rules about no goods brought in between games-"Sorry, new, I forgot," he growled, giving Aerith a very dirty look. She tucked her hands behind her back and radiated sweetness and light, the little fibber.

The officer gave him and the can a contemptuous look, but nodded. "Don't let it happen again, Mr. Strife," came the dry warning, and Cloud jerked a nod, adjusted his bag strap, and headed straight for the Dissidia: Final Fantasy platform, with long strides past Aerith.

Then he realized his bag of smuggled fruit should have set off the alarm too, but had never come under suspicion. He looked over his shoulder at Aerith, who had followed him with a patiently pleasant face. "Did you-"

"Do that on purpose?" she said. "He learns." She caught up to him and leaned in for a whisper. "You can thank me by letting me have first pick."

For an assist-only character, she had quite a few tricks up her sleeve. Cloud found himself wondering just how far they could develop beyond the code.

Notes: Wreck-It Ralph has characters have traits that aren't influenced by their game's gameplay (such as Ralph having horrible breath), so I couldn't resist having Cloud keep his motion sickness from the original game in a fashion. He also takes his programming much too seriously, as his coded personality says he takes everything seriously. He'll lighten up over time, though. Maybe once someone tells him he could never miss Kuja because Kuja's always messing with him after-hours. :) Aerith was a bit trickier to figure out, as an arcade Dissidia version of her could just be cheery helpfulness all the time, but then someone on Tumblr suggested she'd written the "Aerith Lives" message herself. While the rest of their theory for an Wreck-It Ralph-verse Aerith didn't sit right for me, the thought of her being rebellious with spray paint stuck out to me, and I then realized that she had reason to feel unhappy and lonely too, since she's only in the game as a bonus character (which I translated into a "secret" one for the arcade game, no prequel buying here!) After that I felt happier with writing her and incorporating some of the original game Aerith's spirit with it. In the end, this is just silly fluff that the movie's easter egg inspired. It's a great movie and, while you won't see these two in it, I highly recommend it!