I Do Not Own Final Fantasy VII.
The reason he was living was for the boy in front of him. He couldn't, wouldn't, die because he always needed to be here for this boy. Never would he just up and die. It would leave this boy, almost man, devastated. The boy had said so.
He wouldn't die. He promised.
Though a promise like that could only be kept for so long.
Not long after the vow was made did that man die. Shot down by people he thought he was comrades to. He died in the boy's arms, just like his mentor had died in his.
He hated this, that boy, having to be apart from the person he loved just because a stupid company decided they no longer needed him. That they would abandon the man and just kill him off. He hated it.
Hated it with a passion.
So now he sat on a cliff over looking the city, destroyed but being rebuilt, his head leaning against the old rusted sword and crying. Now he was the man, no longer a boy. He had long grown out of that age.
"You promised me," the sobbing man said softly, "You promised me!"
But him screaming would never bring his fallen love back. He had tried before. Many a times. And every time he would always be disappointed.
"Why did you have to leave. . . Damn those people! Damn them to Hell and back!"
Cloud sat there sobbing into a fist, biting his hand to try and quiet down his strangled noises. He was stronger than this, or at least he was supposed to be. After all those years of war and loss, he just couldn't hold it in any longer. Just like his fallen friend couldn't keep his promise.
He should be here with him, alive and curled up together in a nice warm bed at Tifa's bar. Getting drunk with Cid and the others, having fun, playing pranks. Like the old days when he was still a grunt. But those dreams had been crushed long ago. When he had broken his promise and died.
"Come back to me. . . Please. . ." a broken sob, a strangled scream, just like when it had ended.
Cloud looked up as he felt warmth on his chilled wet cheek. He could faintly see an outline through his blurry vision. Tall, long hair, muscles encased in a uniform.
"Zack. . .?"
The outline became more defined when the warmth brushed away stray tears, clearing the blonde's eyes. It was only a faint image, nothing more than a spirit long passed. But it felt real. The hands on his cheeks, the lips now brushing his forehead. The soft unspoken words against his hair. He could feel it all, but he knew it wasn't real.
The lips moved against his hair again, the unspoken words finally having a voice to go with them. A faint wisp of wind that blew past his ear, speaking the words once forgotten. The promise made. A promise broken.
He remembered when he first heard the words, back when he was a grunt, when Sephiroth was his hero, when ShinRa was good. When Zack was alive.
They were standing in a room with Lazard, a simple check in, Zack just having been asked a question.
"The meaning of life? It's different for everyone," the raven had said. "My reason for still living is because of him. He's the meaning of life for me. Always will be."
Cloud had shed tears under his helmet at hearing those words. Had inconspicuously grabbed his commanding officer's hand and squeezed it tightly. They had walked back to Zack's apartment afterward and just laid together on the First's plush bed. Nothing else. Just something as simple as laying wrapped up together.
And to think he had forgotten. The blonde let a small smile form through his tears, the liquid again flowing freely from his crystal blue eyes. These from a depressing happiness.
Another small kiss was placed to blonde locks, and the wind dragged the SOLDIER away, leaving the man again alone.
"My reason for living. . . Is to make you happy. . ."
Hey guys, this is just something quick and simple. It was inspired by the song "Life" by Blackmill Ft. Veela. It is an absolutely amazing song that you should listen to while reading this. It's soft and moving.
Thanks for reading and please review! It really means a lot to a person when you tell them what you think about their writing.