The Heroine
The Church was deathly silent but for the rain that pounded against the roof, a large volume of which was falling through the large hole in the roof. At the alter, a man sat before a bed of flowers, ignoring the way the raindrops were soaking his hair, making it lie flat against his pale face.
His Mako blue eyes were closed behind his eyelids, his face expressionless as he continued to sit in silence. He shivered slightly as a water droplet slide down his neck but he instantly fell back into his statue pose as he gave a slow sigh, as if he held the world on his shoulders.
Of course, being Cloud Strife, he had literally held the world's fate in his hands on two occasions. However, Cloud was not egotistical about it at all; in fact, he hated it when people would call him a hero. He was no hero.
"Aerith," the name fell easily from his lips, as if it was meant to be. That thought made his brows furrow slightly as his eyes slowly opened. Perhaps, it was he thought bitterly. Until he went and messed it up by standing there, gawking as her blood pooled around her on the Forgotten City platform.
She was a mere flower girl from the slums, the last of an ancient race known as the Cetra. She was not much of a physical fighter and she was innocent to the world and too good-natured for her own good.
But Aerith Gainsborough was the true heroine of the planet. Many assumed that Tifa was the heroine, being the one who survived to the end and the girl who was living with Cloud. They soon forgot all about the woman who had sacrificed everything for them. Aerith was the heroine, not Tifa, not Yuffie. Aerith.
But being a hero is not just about martyrs or saving the world. There were the everyday things too and that was why the flower girl was so important to him. She was his heroine because she had stayed by his side, even though she was weakening her spirit by doing so. She kept away from the Promised Land, deciding instead to look after him and guide him through each day. She was there, healing him from geostigma, soothing him into his much-needed sleep with her sweet dreams.
If Cloud were the hero everyone made him out to be then he would have found a way to prevent her death. He would never have handed over the black materia and then she would never have had to go off alone and she would still be here, physically.
The rain slowed to a mere drizzle, a cold wind replacing it. Cloud shivered and slowly stood up, dusting off his clothes. He stood for a moment before giving a soft chuckle.
"Was that you?" he asked, looking up at the gap in the roof. As if in answer, a stream of sunlight appeared. Cloud shook his head, his lips tugging in a small half smile. "Thanks. I guess you are still here in a way," he sighed, running a hand through his hair again before he turned and exited the Church, giving one last glance over his shoulder. The wind tickled his back slightly as the rain completely stopped at last.
"I'll always be there Cloud."