Tifa held the door open as Aerith got the framed and finished painting back into the house.
"I can't believe it got a fuckin' A-," Tifa said, "It's A+ work in my book."
"He doesn't give A+'s," Aerith said, "Plus with the start of semester argument I started…I'm lucky he broke down and didn't fail me entirely." Tifa scoffed quietly, but let it go. It was back in their house where it belonged.
Except…she didn't know precisely where in the house they were going to put it. Neither did Aerith.
"I can move the TV," Tifa started.
"No!" Aerith said, "I like the TV above the fireplace. It's close to the outlet and easy to see. Plus if we moved the TV then we'd have to move the couches."
"Pfft," Tifa said, "You are lazy."
"Proud of it," Aerith said.
"Well…do you have any better suggestions?" Tifa asked.
"…Top of the stairs?" Aerith asked. Tifa marched out to the little foyer between the kitchen and den. She nodded.
"Yeah, I can dig it," she said. Tifa lugged the painting up the stairs behind Aerith and her handy dandy toolbox.
Within minutes it was hanging, Zack and Cloud staring lovingly at any potential guests. Tifa felt the change in the air as some sort of tension released in her. She hadn't been aware that not having the picture was stressing her out.
"I like it," she said again, "I don't know why, but I really like this one Aer."
"Me too," Aerith said.
"Takeout tonight?" Tifa asked. Aerith giggled.
"You and food," she teased, "Yeah. I'd like that rice noodle thing again." Tifa hummed as she tried to remember which place they'd gotten that from.
Zack and Cloud remained locked in their quiet embrace, quietly approving of their new home.
Cloud couldn't say he really felt comfortable with their current meeting place. If Zack stood in the right place and Cloud only opened the servant door a little bit, no one on the outside could see them talking.
But on Cloud's side…if anyone came up to go to Mr and Mrs. Fair's room…they were caught.
"I don't know where else I can see you without looking conspicuous," Zack said quietly.
"Outside," Cloud said.
"I can't always get outside though," Zack said, nodding his head towards his Father's office. Cloud bit his lip. Why had he ever agreed to do this? He was going to be fired for this for sure. He'd do just as much good to himself if he just threw himself off the roof.
…the roof.
"I have an idea," Cloud said. He took hold of Zack's wrist and pulled him into the stairwell.
"Oh," Zack said.
"What?" Cloud asked.
"Never been in here before," Zack said, "It's…cozy."
"Say that again after four of you have tried to get through here at the same time," Cloud said dryly. Zack chuckled quietly as Cloud led him to the last set of steps.
Zack's jaw dropped a little when Cloud jimmied the door open.
"I was not aware there was a way to get up here," Zack said.
"We're not supposed to," Cloud admitted, "Mr Wallace sometimes comes up here to smoke since Mr. Fair banned it inside."
"Doesn't stop him from smoking his pipe," Zack noted, "It's beautiful up here." Few buildings were taller than the Fair manor. The rooftop loaned them a lovely view of the nearby fields and the city gardens just a few blocks away.
Cloud turned and caught Zack staring at him.
"What?" he asked again.
"Nothing," Zack said, but he was still smiling when he looked away, "I like the view."
Zinia made sure no one was coming before she slid into her brother's room. She had been told to stop coming in here more than once now. The more the maids chastised her the more she wanted to know what was so bad in here.
The bed was still made, his books were collecting dust on their shelves. Even his latest architecture sketch was still unfinished on his desk. No one had touched anything since Zackary had disappeared and gotten himself killed.
No one, that is, except Zinia.
"I know I should feel bad about this," she said to no one in particular, "but I don't see what's so bad about having a little look." The room didn't respond, didn't yell at her to respect her elder brother's memory. In fact, it seemed rather cheerful with all the light coming in through the windows.
"I say if they wanted to respect you they might dust in here now and then," she continued. She picked out a book at random making a face as the dust rolled off it's cover. She put it back.
She didn't even know what she was looking for. Closure? The secret to life? Anything would be wonderful at this point.
For twelve years Zinia had been living in the shadow of a man who had died before she was even born. The worst part about it was that she had no idea who he even was. Everyone seemed to have loved her poor brother Zack, but no one seemed to want to talk about him. Was it so bad she wanted to know what his favorite color was? Or who he talked to the most?
Or who had bashed in his head with a wine bottle?
Zinia blew on the mirror to try and get some more dust off of it. All she could see was a blurry outline of her face. She stuck her tongue out at herself before snooping about a little more.
Zack had to have something in here. A diary, journal, or whatever boys called it. She just hadn't found it yet.
"Zinia." She cringed at the sound of her voice. She turned to face her father, standing in the doorway.
"What are you doing in here?" he asked.
"Nothing," Zinia said, going with her standard response, "Sorry Papa."
"It's alright, darling," he said, "But we wouldn't want your Mama to catch you in here again. She'll tan your hide herself." Zinia stepped out behind her father. He seemed far away again. Zinia resisted sighing. He always got like this when he thought about Zack.
"Would you like to come with me on a little trip?" her father asked.
"Where?" Zinia asked.
"The cemetery," her father said, "It will just be us."
And Zack, Zinia thought, but she nodded and followed along behind him.
Aerith felt hers before she went down the steps to get to class. All the hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she passed through it. She gave a full-body shiver as she walked through the cold spot. Only it wasn't just cold. It felt like…she walked through static.
She kept looking behind her as she stepped down. All she saw was the painted Zack and Cloud smiling softly at her departing back.
Tifa felt hers while she was heading to the kitchen to get her breakfast. She felt a cold spike of fear as she walked through it. She kept reminding herself of the apology she heard the other night.
They won't hurt you, they won't hurt you, she chanted to herself. It was only when she got out of her Lit class that she realized it…he…was staring up the steps at the painting.
Zinia stood back as her father knelt down by Zack's headstone and laid a small bouquet.
Zack Fair. Our loving son. May your smile brighten the heavens for future sons.
It felt real out here. The grief Zinia was supposed to have. She should have had a brother. Instead, she just had to sit and wonder if her brother liked the color red, or rainy days, or Mr. Wallace's tarts.
"Could you get me that second bouquet, dear," her father said. Zinia jerked out of her reverie and did as her father bid. He had moved over to a second grave.
Cloud Strife. It didn't have a sweet poem like Zack's had, simply Cloud Strife's birth and death date. Zinia schooled her face into neutrality when she caught that first clue. She was having good private time with her father. She didn't want to ruin it just yet.
"I used to take you out here more often," her father said, "You used to decorate this place with the flowers, make it all bright and cheery like you're prone to do." Zinia resisted snorting.
"Then your Mama made me stop," he said, "You said you had a friend named Cloud and it just frayed her nerves." Zinia vaguely remembered a friend she had conjured up long ago. A Spikey-haired boy whom she named Cloud…or had he named himself?
Zinia didn't think about it long. She was too preoccupied with what she had learned.
Zack and this Cloud Strife had died on the same day.
Cloud shook his head as he got out of bed. He moved quickly, yet quietly to the stairwell, making sure not to let it slam behind him. He paused outside of Zack's room, wondering what in God's name he thought he was doing.
Taking what's mine, Cloud thought to himself. He finally opened the door and slid inside. He knew Zack locked his bedroom door at night and that they were safe. The only way in was through the servant's door he just used.
Zack sat up when he saw Cloud enter.
"Cloud?" he asked. Cloud didn't say a word. He set one knee onto Zack's bed. Zack immediately made room for him, lifting his sheets to let Cloud slide under.
This wasn't new for them. Zack had come down to Cloud's little private room. The first time was more or less a time to tease Cloud and his notions of propriety. Later…it was warm and soft with kissing involved.
This time was no different.
"Don't let me sleep in," Cloud whispered.
"I make no promises," Zack said. Cloud could feel him smiling against his neck.