A/N: Hey, guys, this is just another crack pairing one-shot. I'm not sure if putting it up was the best idea, though, considering the last time I put up a pairing story with Aerith, it only got one review. But, I'm still a strong believer in crack pairings, so here it is.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything connected to KH.


Realization

She stood at Hollow Bastion's bailey, her hands clasped in front of her chest as usual and her emerald eyes glistening in a dreamy gaze. To forget what chaos occurred around her for just one minute sufficed, according to her. For, in her thoughts, Heartless didn't exist. Neither did Nobodies, Organization XIII, or anything remotely aligned with the dark, for that matter.

All she had at her disposal were flashbacks of a more peaceful time, one brimmed with chatty citizens unafraid of walking the village streets, laughs at every turn...

And a beautiful boy who possessed the bluest, deeper-than-any-ocean eyes that she, the young woman innocently shrouded, had ever seen. How she had adored him! How she had looked forward to their evenings together!

Avidly, she found herself gazing beyond the bailey to the far-off, gleaming apexes of the crystals at Crystal Fissure, where she and her lover had enjoyed doting conversations. She could open up to this boy unashamed, discussing with him the promising outlook of the flower shop she inherited from her dead mother.

He wouldn't even bestow to her a condescending stare when she told him how similar her flowers were to people, unlike the townspeople she barely knew who stopped by her shop. On the contrary, he would gently pat her hand and say how marvelous a fact that was, as well as how intriguing he found doing a beloved job. He himself often mentioned of yearning to become a scientist in order to pinpoint discoveries.

As she reflected on this, the young woman absentmindedly yet fondly pushed back a strand of her light brown hair. Speaking of hopeful dreams down in that fissure had always cheered her...that is, if she ever suffered a bad day. And the boy, ever loyal, would calmly sit cross-legged from her, listening to these dreams with a vague smile that just barely touched his lips.

The way he meditated on topics also piqued her interest, what with his holding of his chin in one firm hand in a pensive fashion. The way he articulated each word cautiously fascinated her. Even the way he gesticulated with a grace that only one older than him can perfect was enough for her to smile delicately. She strongly recalled at that moment the time one of his pallid, intelligent looking hands held hers so softly that she thought her heart had stopped.

The exquisite lips on hers, when their friendship had blossomed into romance, had thrilled her the most. No matter how embarrassed his face looked (with flushed cheeks and all) when he finally tore himself away from her, she knew that his confidence mounted all because of her.

Prior to their conversations, the boy had been rejected, set apart from his always disdainful peers and family. Before her, the flower girl known as Aerith, he quietly displayed an inevitable dark side. He apathetically looked down upon everything in the world and wore a twisted, demented smirk whenever he glimpsed a miserable, wretched person rather like himself. Then he had entered the flower shop one day; life for him improved drastically after that.

Thus, as aforementioned, he shared passionately pure romance with this girl his very age—only two months older—and lived as he had hardly done before.

But alas, this peace, this sheer happiness, was not meant to last.

The boy, simply called Ienzo, seemed to have forgotten to meet at the fissure one day, which worried Aerith immensely. For once, she wore care on her brow like one would wear a mere sweater, and she wandered back to town.

Relentlessly and with a forceful drive few were aware she possessed, she determinedly knocked on his family's door. Seconds seemed to have transformed into excruciating hours as she waited anxiously on the threshold. She practically died to receive answers as to her beau's whereabouts. Her situation had become so desperate to the point that she feverishly thought she couldn't live without him.

Yes, she may have been young and possessed naivety that almost came packaged with youth, but she loved this boy. And if she had to wait until the end of time to discover where he vanished to, Aerith most certainly would.

After all, this was her Ienzo.

His mother responded to the knocking after three minutes had passed, which had translated to what seemed like three hours to his beloved. Upon being asked where her son had gone, the frightfully crabby middle-aged woman stiffly said that he had run off to be "one of those uppity lab coats," meaning a scientist.

Refusing to take on the role as the warm housewife, she slammed the door in front of Aerith's disheartened face without so much as an invitation to come inside.

Out of breath, the distraught girl crumbled to her knees, shocked at Ienzo's behavior. He had gone to who knows where to attempt fulfilling a lifelong dream while avoiding to say his goodbyes to her.

She felt hopelessly betrayed.

And now, two years had flown by, and he still hadn't returned from this mysterious place where he had concealed himself. Two years without words between them, not even in the form of a letter; it still upset Aerith to this day. Yet all along she had put up this grand bravado of pretending that she didn't need him any more...or want him or love him. She long since assured all her friends that Ienzo's real objective was to metaphorically steal her heart and that she felt that his disappearance was good riddance.

Regretfully, though, this statement proved false, which made her feel as though she minced her words.

Ienzo meant the world to her...never again would she see the carelessly haphazard strands of purple-gray hair, the sparkling like champagne blue eyes, and the genuine smile he only gave to her. Aerith mourned her loss privately and rarely—she didn't dare to drop what others perceived as her irrepressible joy and serenity. The knowledge to proceed with life taunted her, especially when images of her lost love would appear to her every night. She could hardly bear to rid herself of his memory, but it had been two years. If he still wanted her, he surely would have traveled this way by now.

Aerith sighed, resting her head on lamenting crossed arms.

A hooded figure stoically gazed at the crystals surrounding him, as if he sensed they should remind him of something vital in his life. He hadn't the foggiest idea why he should remember; it was just like a sixth sense. When his cloaked reflection stared back at him when the sunlight hit the facets of the crystals just right, a name pounded in his head like a hammer to a nail.

"Aerith...who's Aerith?" he inquired to himself, though his legs did the talking from then on out. For, he realized that instinct urged him to run to Hollow Bastion's bailey.

Why would he even consider looking for something...or someone over there?

It was when he stopped himself footsteps away from a lone figure that his breath caught in his throat. He recognized the dangling braid immediately, a braid that he had stroked numerous times. The attire of pink...he recognized that too, along with the bow.

She looked so much older now—had it really been two years since they last met? Zexion swore an aneurysm had arrived to kill him, for the memories of him and her returned vividly and hurriedly.

Luckily, this wasn't an aneurysm, only the missing pieces that fit together with the rest of his mind puzzle. He loved this woman, though he had become an atrocious being. No mortal soul respected Nobodies, those pitiful halves of real people, those cold, emotionless shells.

Turning away from this beautiful creature, he ineptly forgot to secure his hood, which slipped off his face.

Somehow, the rustle of fabric alerted Aerith to Zexion's presence; when she noticed the strands of hair, though, she gasped. However, it was not one of revulsion, but one of relief.

She disregarded the fact that he donned the black cloak of the Organization and rushed to him, each step closer to the one she adored.

"Ienzo, you're back!" she noted excitedly, her eyes glowing upon glimpsing the face of a most welcome visitor.

However, Zexion lowered his head. "I don't go by that name any more."

Aerith stopped running and realized that the young man before her did indeed wear the cloak of that vile group of people. What happened that altered her Ienzo so dramatically in two years? What had he done?

Moreover, what was done to him?

"What do you mean?" she asked in an almost reproachful tone of voice.

Unbeknownst to him, he shuddered, the chills running up his spine. He had looked forward to yet dreaded this visit as he had resolved to see Aerith again minutes ago. Surely, she would reject him now, her normally gentle eyes sharpened with hatred. If she shoved him aside, he would no longer care (not like he ever did) whether he faded or not. The fact of the matter was nothing tasted more bitter than the resentment of the one you loved.

"A lab accident happened two years ago..." He could almost feel his words stabbing him as he gave his explanation. "I turned into this monstrosity. And my only regret that I have is that I didn't...didn't say goodbye to you."

Why did he suddenly emote? A wave of agony washed over him like one from a terrible tsunami that destroyed entire villages.

"I know that nothing I can say will improve this situation so if you despise me, I will understand," he finished in the same slow manner of speech he had been using while speaking to Aerith, who looked impassive. The light in her eyes had gone out as she contemplated over Zexion's words.

"I'm just a stranger, Aerith. Remember, you don't know me."

He prepared to put up his hood once again, when a handkerchief touched his face. Had he been, dare he admit it, crying? Outstretching his fingers toward the cloth, he thought they had padded over a damp spot. And to think, he barely felt the tears.

Aerith's entreating, floral scent overwhelmed his sensitive nose in a positive way. She smiled at him graciously, the smile he had craved for so long.

"I still care about you, Ienzo," she murmured, "and nothing will ever change that. I love you."

"Aerith...," he whispered her name, cherishing it on his lips like an old friend.

Zexion then kissed her adoringly, despite the fact that his heart currently was missing in action. Normally, he would second-guess himself when it came to that illogically calculated thinking. But, then again, since when did love concern logic?

Surprised though pleased from the feel of his charismatic lips on hers, Aerith embraced him.

In turn, he sensed an awkward situation in the fact that a taller woman was holding him. He cursed his size at that moment.

"You're still short," Aerith joked, feigning condescendence as she lay her hand flat on air, half-expecting Zexion to jump up to reach it.

"As if I would sink to that level!" he snorted, which caused her to laugh.

To hear her tinkling bell laugh seemed like heaven on earth to him; he almost assumed he would never hear it again.


A/N: I hope that this one didn't suck too badly. Please review! XD By the way, I randomly read a one-shot with this pairing on here, and for some reason, fell in love with it. I don't know why either.