It looked like a lovely town. Beautiful, with tall metallic buildings that reflected the sun. The occasional overpass with zooming cars cut through the roads, and nothing was bluer than the sky that day.

Oh, yes, that day. It was special.

I'd found myself wandering, and ended up standing, staring, by a wall that surrounded water, a man-made river that passed sparkling through the city. There weren't many people in the area. Maybe a lost tourist or two, but the locals appeared to rarely visit this spot.

It was a lovely place. The grass was as green as the shining dew could make it, and the small wall I was leaning over had been built out of cement flecked with small sparkling stones that captured the light of the sun. The clouds reflected in the shimmering water, and I couldn't help but share a slight, sad smile with the world.

I didn't know where I was, but I was certain I didn't want to go anywhere anymore. I just wanted to stop moving. So I sat down on a smooth wooden bench and watched a man scribble in a book. I believe he was drawing.

Now and again I'd catch his eyes wandering, over the wall, the grass, the river, the buildings opposite, and sometimes me, and our eyes would meet.

He'd glance away, embarrassed that he'd been caught, but I didn't mind. I used to do the same thing, when I had a camera in hand. When I'd had... Something. I dunno... enthusiasm?

But everything was greeted with the same lazy, sad smile of mine.

I stood and placed my hands on the top of the wall again. I leaned forward, staring at the water, the blurry shadow of a could-be me... and another.

The man had joined me at the wall, sketchbook held in his far hand, the right hand resting close to my left. I looked up, noted green-blue eyes, and didn't smile. I felt like I'd done enough lying that day.

"Hey," he said, black hair shifting.

I replied with the same context of hello, watching the light shift through his hair and increase the colour of his eyes.

"Beautiful day, huh."

"I- ...yeah." I turned the direction of my gaze to admire the scenery before us, leaning a bit more on my forearms and staring listlessly at the skyscrapers across the water.

"Uh, I hope you don't mind, but I drew a picture of you..."

I turned in surprise, the breeze blowing a few strands of my hair into my mouth- I brushed them away in habit.

"C-Can I see?" I stuttered out. Why would he draw pictures of ME?

"Sure, here," he passed his sketchbook to me, flipping open to reveal a pencil-sketch lookalike of myself, leaning forwards against the wall with a distantly depressed expression.

I grew sadder just looking at it.

"Do I really look that depressed?" I asked with a quieter voice, as if afraid to hear the answer.

"Yeah, you do."

I placed the sketchbook down on the ledge of the wall, slowly flipping through the other pictures, surprised that the man didn't stop me.

His art was amazing.

There were a few charcoal drawings, but the majority was in sketch pencil, and sometimes a picture was coloured, sometimes not. He'd drawn two pictures of me; one a close-up portrait with my eyes half-lidded, appearing to be just TIRED and looking like all I wanted to do was disappear, the other was the one he'd actually shown me.

"Are you a pro?" I asked.

"Yeah- no- well, I guess. I've gotten commissions, but the word 'pro' doesn't exactly fit the job description of an artist." He smiled shyly and rubbed his head.

I had to laugh, mouth uplifting and gaze growing softer, not looking away from the man as his own smile faded into one of a surprised happiness.

I stopped laughing, "w-what?" What was wrong? Did he see something he didn't like? He was probably going to leave now, just leave me alone again like I was before he came and talked to me-

"You should smile like THAT a little more."

Huh?

"Wha- uh..."

His hand flew up and in a quick motion, ruffled my hair. I blinked in wonderment as he smiled again, and I wanted him to smile more. He removed his head from my hand, sliding it down and resting an arm around my shoulders.

"What's your name?"

"Why?"

"What? 'Cause I want to know, of course. 'Cause it's important."

It's important.

Well, then.

"Cloud," I said.

"Nice to meet you, Cloud," he grinned wider, if it was possible, "I'm Zack. Wanna get some coffee?"


X-V-X


A year later, I told Zack what I'd been at the wall for.

"I was going to commit suicide," I'd said, sipping a mug of evening hot chocolate with an impassive look.

"...Say what?"

"Do I really have to repe—,"

"YOU were going to commit SUICIDE? WHEN?!" He'd placed his mug on the coffee table and twisted in his seat to see me fully.

"The- the day we first met. It was when... It was five days after Tifa told me to get lost. Sephiroth had gone missing, and Aerith was dead," I almost choked on the words. It had been at least two months since I'd told him the details of my full background, complete with the depressing dead parents and loner attitude that had pushed me to the point I was at.

"Dude- shit."

"Do you realize that-,"

"That I'd saved you from killing yourself? Yeah. I got that. But... why?"

"I already told you why."

"No- not that. Why did you let me?"

"You drew a picture. That was all."

"...Geez, a picture was all it took? I'm going to be drawing a LOT more of you, Cloud."

I sighed, and then smiled as I set down my mug next to his. "Zack... You don't have to, you know."

"Cloudy, drawing saved you from death. Plus, I like drawing you. AND you're my best friend, so it's not like you're going to murder me for acting like an obsessed freak," he laughed heartily, eyes almost closing.

"Best friends," I mumbled without realizing I was speaking until the chuckling next to me trickled out of existence.

"Unless..."

"Huh?"

"Unless you don't want to be my best friend," Zack said, avoiding eye contact and looking in a sad and rejected way to the twin mugs of hot chocolate.

"Zack, what are you saying?! I'd do anything for you, really! Don't get all depressed," I placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning over probably closer than I should, but he was still looking away... until I said that.

"You- you would?" He moved his head back up, our gazes close and our noses closer.

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. "Y-yeah! You saved my life!"

"...Then..." He drawled, dragging out the word with a mischievous tone, clever smile to match. "Then, go on a date with me!"

"A what?"

"A date!"

And he kissed me.