Rain fell all around him. How long had it been raining now? Would it be enough to put out the fires? Probably not; the rain felt too weak to dampen the raging inferno. Nibelheim was burning. His mother, he had to save his mother. Except it was already too late. Why hadn't the rain come sooner? What good was the rain now? What good was he? He was holding something. His vision was blurry, the world swimming around him. Where was he?
He was holding something heavy. He needed to keep hold of it. He was holding a sword. The sword he had challenged Sephiroth with. Sephiroth? Silver hair. Caused the fire. There was someone close by. A man. Sephiroth? No. His hair wasn't the right colour. He relaxed as the man muttered something. He recognised the shapes of words, individual letters, but the noise was meaningless. Something else there. Something small. Monster? No. Creature. Dog.
He was tired. He wanted to sleep. But he had to keep moving. He couldn't sleep in the rain. But he'd finally found a place to rest after walking for so long. He had to take the sword and go there. Go... where? To find Sephiroth? Revenge. He needed to take revenge. Sephiroth had taken everything from him. He caused the fires. His actions lead to his mother's death. He killed Tifa. He would take his revenge.
Hand on head. The touch was comforting. He could barely feel it though; his whole body felt numb and distant. Someone else was close by. A girl. She murmured something, this noise also beyond his comprehension, her hand still resting against his head. He couldn't tell what she was saying, but there was something familiar about the sound of her voice. He sensed her kneeling beside him, the movement contrasting with a flicker of memory; of picking up the sword. Of taking on that weight, of getting to his feet and walking. He struggled to raise his eyes to see who was with him.
Red eyes. Black hair. That voice. He knew this person. A name was suddenly on his lips. "Tifa...?" She looked at him confused, concerned, before rising to her feet. He kept his eyes on hers and pushed himself up as well, feeling the world begin to solidify around him. Tifa was alive! Tifa was here! But she didn't recognise him? "Tifa!" he tried again, trying and failing to say anything else. His confidence began faltering as she stared at him puzzled, and then her eyes widened slightly and she peered at him more closely.
"Cloud!" she gasped, eyes bright with surprise and relief which rapidly shifted to concern. "What happened to you? You don't look so good."
Her voice was more than just a familiar sound now, he could understand the words. What was before was diminishing, what was now was amplified. Tifa was concerned for him. But why? He didn't feel unwell. He needed to tell her that. "I'm fine." He could talk again! He was articulate and coherent, speech suddenly utterly natural, unlike moments before when the mechanics of it were beyond him. They lapsed into an uneasy silence.
"How long has it been?"
At Tifa's words his mind raced. When had he last seen her? His head hurt, his hands clutching at it, trying to diminish the pain and then, in a rush, his memories returned, filling a void he hadn't realised was there. He'd last seen Tifa just before he had challenged Sephiroth with his sword in Nibelheim. After the General had attacked her in the reactor. After she'd sworn vengeance on both Shinra and Sephiroth upon finding her father's body. After Cloud had followed her along the twisting paths of Mount Nibel as she ran from the flaming ruins of their town. After his mother's house had been consumed by fire. After he'd seen the sanity leech out of Sephiroth's eyes when he declared humanity traitors. After Sephiroth showed him something horrible in the depths of the reactor, a creature neither man nor monster. After they lost a comrade on the hike up the mountain. After he met Tifa again, but their reunion was not what he might have once hoped for. After he saw his mom again. After he came back to his home town.
How long had passed? And why did his memories feel so odd? There was something odd in so many; in most he remembered seeing with his own eyes, but in some he curiously relived the event in third person. It was him he saw in those moments, wasn't it? It had to be; the figure carried the same sword he did. The figure wore the same uniform he did. The pain hit a crescendo and then abruptly ebbed away as his memories grew vague for a moment before returning with crystal clarity, without that strange perspective dissonance.
Abruptly a duration was on his lips. "Five years," he said. Tifa looked worried by the answer, wariness washing over her for a moment. Guilt suddenly welled up in him; he needed to explain. "I... I thought you didn't make it when I found you in the reactor," he said, voice cracking, his throat dry despite the dampness all around them. "I'm sorry I left you to fight Sephiroth. I should have come back for you. If I'd known you were alive, I'd have come looking for you. I'm sorry." She almost smiled then, but was still visibly unnerved. Unconsciously her hand now pressed against her chest, describing a curve between her breasts. She winced and dropped the hand to her side, shaking her head.
"It's... it's okay, Cloud. Do... you-, no, that's a stupid question. Come on, let's get out of this rain. I don't live far from here."
The offer was kind, and he relished the idea to be inside, but he didn't have time to catch up or rest. He needed to move on. "Thanks, but I can't hang around. I wasn't planning on staying in the city for long."
"Cloud, I'm not going to let you walk around like that; I'm offering you a place to dry off. Plus I haven't seen you in-" The pause was barely a fraction of a second, but still noticeable. "-five years. We need to catch up. Come on, this way." She gestured and after a moment of hesitation he followed, feeling like he was wasting time. There was a strange tug which increased in insistence as he followed her, a desire mounting within him to turn around, head back towards the station and keep on going. He ignored it and instead continued to walk with her.
"Are... are you still with SOLDIER?" his childhood friend asked after a moment, her eyes catching his and then dropping to his uniform.
Cloud shook his head. "Not since Nibelheim." There was a flicker of memory then. "And not since you said you hated SOLDIER."
Tifa fidgeted at the words, but made no comment. "What have you been doing with yourself since?" she asked. The ex-SOLDIER frowned at a slightly odd inflexion in his friend's voice.
"Not much," he replied. "I've been working as a mercenary."
"A mercenary? Kind of fitting for a former SOLDIER," she glanced at him, eyes trailing from head to toe once more.
"How about you though?"
Tifa took a deep breath, eyes darting to him. "You no longer have any ties to Shinra do you?"
Cloud shook his head vigorously. "Not after what Sephiroth did to our town."
"Good. Well, I've been working with an anti-Shinra group called Avalanche..."