Aerith
She's like a flower.
Well, a very resilient flower.
She's been stomped under a boot before.
It's taken a while, but she sprung back up.
If only she knew where her gardener was.
If only she knew he was a few flower patches away, fighting off the thorny weeds.
Would she bloom?
Would she weep?
Would she cry out for her gardener to come and tend to her like he used to?
Maybe she would ask him for a flower wagon, so they could be together always?
Maybe she'd just be happy to know that he's alive.
Because this time he's alive.
They're both alive.