It had been five months since Zack had broken free from his mako imprisonment, rescued Cloud and escaped from Cloud's hometown that had become their prison for a stretch of time that Zack still hadn't managed to figure out. As soon as they had gotten away, it was like they were being head-hunted.
Zack wouldn't admit to anyone, but it had hurt going from the very top of SOLDIER to someone who Shinra were trying desperately to capture so that an insane scientist could play out his sick experiments.
For two months straight, Zack had half-carried, half-dragged Cloud through the wilderness, hoping against hope that his best friend would come back to him and joke about everything, saying that this whole time he'd been unresponsive was just a big joke.
In fact, the most responsive Cloud had been since they had left Nibelheim was when Zack had mentioned their first trip to Modeoheim together. And despite the fact that Zack wanted Cloud back as much as possible, Modeoheim was still too painful for Zack to just bring up as if it was everyday conversation.
So they travelled as fast as they could, one First-Class ex-SOLDIER and a mako poisoned grunt, making as much progress as they could. Of course, when Cissnei appeared and let them go, unable to forget her friendship with Zack, giving them the keys to a motorbike... That was when Zack started to relax.
He was going to take Cloud back to Midgar. And he would see Aerith again.
It was Aerith's first attempt at selling flowers above the plate. Basket in hand, flowers carefully laid out, she took her first step out of the train and looked up.
Clouds.
No brilliant blue sky Zack had promised her. Maybe she needed Zack to be with her for the sky to be blue. And then it rained.
Large drops of water from the sky, hitting Aerith on the head and causing her hair to flop forward in front of her eyes. She looked skyward, green eyes twinkling as she took in the sights around her.
Tall grey buildings surrounded the road leading away from the station. Bright neon lights illuminated the dinghy pavement as men and women scurried to and fro clutching suitcases and umbrellas.
Aerith had never seen anything so amazing.
She stepped down from the train station and walked down the boulevard. People pushed into her, several shot her an angry look. They bounced harmlessly off Aerith, who was used to looks and stares from everyone in the slums.
The flower girl made her towards a bright light at the end of the road, and found herself next to a large theatre. People were heading towards it, chatting amiably and wearing such fantastic clothing. Aerith looked down at her own dress in slight disdain and pulled on the ribbon that still adorned her braid.
She was doing this for Zack. She was doing this to support her and her mother. More than that, she was doing this to prove a point to herself. She was strong enough to do this.
"Mummy, look! Look at the flowers!"
A little girl rushed up to Aerith and stared longingly at a white tulip that lay balance across some poppies. She smiled up at the flower girl. "Are you selling these?"
Aerith was taken back, but quickly smiled politely before dropping down to crouch and look at the girl's eyes. "Yes, and for you, I'll sell if for 2 Gil."
The girl gasped and turned to her mother who was standing several paces behind. "Please can I have the flower? Please?"
Aerith blinked up at the mother, who stood taller than her on some dangerous looking heels. "The flowers are-"
"I know how much they cost" The mother snapped, looking down at Aerith. "I'll take two." She shoved some coins at Aerith.
"Uh. I only have one Tulip..." Aerith drifted off as she swore the woman standing before her grew taller.
"Then give me something else! I paid for two!" The woman growled, looking rather mean.
Aerith blinked fearfully up at the woman, and quickly gave her a yellow rose. "Is this okay- oh!"
The woman grabbed the flower from Aerith, sniffed it and suddenly relaxed. "Sorry... It's just, the last time I saw a flower was so long ago..."
Aerith stared at her. How could someone change so quickly? "That's okay..." She stuttered out, unsure of how to act around this strange woman.
The woman looked at her, almost in a judging way. "You know, if you're going to sell flowers, you're gonna do pretty well. I've just got one question. Where'd you get them from?"
"I grow them... They grow in a church in the slums."
The woman raised an eyebrow and gave the yellow rose to her daughter. "You're from the slums? Well, let me give you a little tour around Midgar. If you ever need anything, don't be afraid to ask me. You'll do just fine."
Aerith smiled up at the woman. She'd made a friend, she hoped. Maybe selling flowers was a really good idea after all.
So this was it. A year of running and several close encounters later, Zack and Cloud's plight for freedom was coming to an end.
Not that Zack wasn't going to try. Oh, no. First Class SOLDIER's did not give up so easily. Even when it was the very company that proclaimed you a First Class SOLDIER that was attacking you.
The irony was not lost on Zack. Although it probably was on Cloud. He seemed to be a bit slow with getting jokes these days.
Not the point, right? It was a life and probable death situation that Zack was in, and he was cracking jokes about the irony of the situation. It was better than facing it straight off though. Would you choose to think about how there was a pretty damn big army standing in front of you aiming to kill while you had to stay alive to save your friend who you had been dragging across the world for the past year?
No? Well now you know how Zack felt.
Cloud muttered something inaudible as Zack placed him on the ground behind a rock, hopefully hiding him from the sight of the army that was waiting for them both. Zack sighed. Better get it over and done with. He'd be fine though... Right?
Zack sighed to himself, and walked towards the army. He couldn't help but notice how many people there were. Apparently Shinra wasn't going to underestimate him this time...
For the first time, a pang of uncertainty flashed into Zack's mind. Except he pushed it away, refusing point blank to even consider the fact that there was a chance that he wouldn't make it.
No way. He'd make it back to Midgar with Cloud.
The letter sat, forlorn and finished, on Aerith's desk. A pen lay discarded next to it, with an envelope addressed to Zack Fair being held by the writer. The paper was crinkled in many places, due to frustration and other sudden mood changes that happens when one is trying to write down each and every feeling they have felt over the past five years.
Aerith sighed, and placed the envelope down. She'd written so many letters. So many words, so many hopes, dreams and aspirations. She often wondered if Zack even remembered her. He must be extremely busy for him not to reply to any of the letters - even if it was just a 'Stop writing to me'.
Aerith could take that. She was strong enough.
But... Why?
She would never know why. And that was just as bad as the silence. That meant she would never understand why Zack had suddenly cut her off, ignored her letters for so many years and never even sent word of if he was okay.
And that's what worried her so much. Was Zack actually okay?
Aerith slumped down onto her desk and absentmindedly tugged on her braid. Something tickled her cheek and she moved her hand, and lifted the strand of pink ribbon to her line of sight.
It was faded despite the fact Aerith barely set foot above the plate. In fact, she'd only started venturing up there regularly in the last couple of months in a vain attempt to catch a glimpse of someone in SOLDIER to query about Zack. Also, it seemed many people above the plate were interested in buying flowers.
The woman who she had first meant when she had ventured up onto the plate had turned into a great business partner, allowing Aerith to leave flowers in her house before taking them out onto the streets to sell herself.
Not that she had taken that opportunity straight away... It had taken Aerith several months until she had gathered up enough courage to venture back onto the train again. What could she say, the sky still scared her slightly.
Aerith reached up to untie the pink ribbon, and it fell onto the desk, looking rather limp. So many memories clung to it. With a start, Aerith stood; the ribbon hanging loosely from her hand.
"Zack... I'll never forget you."
He was dead. Or nearly dead. The line was becoming pretty blurry.
Cloud was there. He'd somehow managed to crawl across to be by Zack's side. Shame he probably wouldn't remember this. Was he even conscious? Or properly conscious. Or unmako-ized.
Zack wasn't too sure what the actually term was. He'd never payed attention in classes. Maybe that was a mistake... Maybe he'd have been able to do more if he'd been a better student to Angeal.
Hey, so if he was dying, does that mean he'd meet Angeal? That'd be nice.
Zack made a mental list.
Reasons not to die:
1. Cloud needed him. Zack was pretty certain that Cloud wast completely healed from the whole Nibelhiem incident. Hell, Zack certainly hadn't gotten over the crazy stuff that had happened and he'd been walking and talking. Cloud had only just seemingly remembered how to crawl.
2. Aerith.
And that stopped the list.
What could you say about Aerith?
Instead, Zack talked to Cloud. He told him to live for him and using the last of his strength, passed the Buster Sword to his blonde friend. Cloud looked distraught. His eyes seemed empty, despite being filled with an eerie Mako glow that shouldn't have been there. His hair and half of his face was covered in blood. But not his. It took Zack a few seconds to realise that it was his own blood.
Was he hurt that bad? Maybe he didn't have as long as he thought.
He blinked tiredly. His vision was going. Bright lights flickered across the sky and suddenly Zack wasn't lying on some hard packed ground bleeding his guts out. Now he was standing in a field full of flowers.
Beautiful flowers. Flowers that Aerith would have been extremely proud of.
Zack thumped down onto the floor.
What a way to go. Because he was obviously dead, wasn't he? Cloud was gone, as were the gaping holes in his chest. Zack supposed he could live without those. Seeing as he couldn't really live with them...
Time was running out. Zack didn't know how, but he could feel it. The flower field was growing shorter and darkness was creeping closer. But it wasn't a bad darkness... No...
It was more of the darkness that came with sleep. Except more final. Yeah. That's a good way to put it.
It was coming for him. And Zack knew Angeal was waiting for him. Zack got up to go... Then stopped, looking around the field at all the flowers that reminded him so much of Aerith. And everything about her.
"One last thing..." Zack told the impeding darkness, holding up one finger.
He bent down and retrieved one flower. One flower that wasn't half as beautiful as Aerith. It wasn't her. But it reminded him of her.
And Zack didn't feel like Zack without something Aerith.
Water rushed down from some unknown source, and pooled down into the pond in Aerith's back yard. The sun was out, and despite Aerith's earlier thoughts, she was feeling hopeful. She hummed to herself in a cheerful tune, as she cleaned her hands. She'd been sat outside for an hour, staring at the ripples in the pond, comparing it to her life.
Kind of melancholy, she knows, but it seemed like best thing to do. See, ripples start at one point. Something small, like a black haired man crashing through your church roof, sets it off. From there, it spreads out and touches everything, enveloping everything.
So pretty. So short-lived.
But what had gotten Aerith's hopes up?
The fact that ripples, or anything metaphorical that could be compared to ripples, could be started again so quickly.
Yeah, so what if they weren't as big or as perfect as the ones that had come before it? It was still something that was unique...
That's what she told herself anyway.
Aerith continued humming, and picked up an article of clothing from a basket that was placed beside her. It's what she'd come out to do, she'd just been putting it off, hoping the clothes would leap into the water and wash themselves.
She worked automatically, not noticing what she was washing until she reached the last item. Her pink ribbon.
It was faded, dirty and fraying at the edges. Not the most pleasant hair accessory that someone wished to have. If you live in the slums though, you can't really be that picky. Aerith stared at it, before plunging it in the water and trying to pick all of the dirt and grime off of it. Soon, the ribbon was back to what could be classed as clean. It shimmered slightly in the sunlight that filtered through the gaps in the plates above, and Aerith smiled at it.
"Well, at least you're clean now!" She told it, smoothing t down to try and get the excess water droplets off. Aerith then reached up behind her head, and with the skill that was only acquired with years of practise, tied the ribbon around the top her braid.
Because Aerith didn't feel like Aerith without something Zack.
A/N: Argh. It's so soppy. I didn't mean for it turn out this sopppy, but one thing lead to another and suddenly BAM. Sopfest xD
Okay, some explanation. The very original idea for this came from the song Where Is Your Boy/Grand Theft Autumn by Fall Out Boy. It was originally going to be a songfic, but then it didn't really fit in and then it suddenly ended up like this x3
Please leave a review, this is my first FFVII fic, so if you can give me some general feedback/constructive critisism on that, it would be awesome~
