Writing a story is more fun when you're listening to a soundtrack, I realized. I'm currently writing an FF8 fic with Mell's Red Fraction playing in the background, strangely, Red Fraction suits this story too!

I've been listening to Yoko Shimomura's City of Flickering Destruction while writing this chapter. If you haven't heard of it, please check it out. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Life on the road meant days foregoing the luxury of a hot bath, a decent meal and a good night's rest. Cloud was exhausted. If his appearance said otherwise, his training as a Turk bore fruit. A Turk looked fabulous in times of distress, Lucrecia once told him, and she drilled the concept in him, hoping her protégé absorbed the lessons.

Lucrecia would have been proud of him.

"The suits are too obvious," he told Aerith as they stopped by a nearby village whose name he didn't bother knowing. "We need to change."

Aerith looked dazzling herself. Lucrecia would have been proud of her as well.

"There's a house over there." She said, pointing to a house several miles away from them. Freshly-washed clothes hung from the clothesline. Perfect. If they could get those clothes, they nailed the perfect cover- A couple traveling towards the Eastern continent. No one would suspect them, neither would they question the large object they were dragging with them.

"The coast is clear," Cloud murmured.

Aerith arched a brow, her tone incredulous. "Don't tell me you'd stoop as low as stealing someone's belongings."

He wouldn't apologize for his actions. "That's how I got the Pink Card, so don't look at me like that. I had to do what I had to do."

"We can always knock the door and ask politelty."

"Then we'd look suspicious."

"We don't look suspicious."

"People in black suits knocking doors and asking for clothes are suspicious."

Aerith sighed. "True, but if the owner happens to be a young man, perhaps I could work my charm—"

"—No" Cloud snorted, and he focused his attention on the various articles hanging on the clothesline.

"You could let me try." She insisted.

"We can't afford to be seen or we'll be recognized." He snapped. News had already exploded about the incident in Shinra, where ex-Shinra personnel had stolen one of the company's prized projects. A Wanted Bulletin had been posted in every Shinra holding, and the immigration was already notified of the people involved.

There was no news about the massacre inside Shinra, the Bio-Weapons, and the black market. Shinra had done a good job in covering their tracks. Well, Almost. Lucrecia wasn't finished with her job, promising to ruin everything her husband worked for. It was only a matter of time.

If she was still alive, that was.

Shinra was in deep shit, Cloud thought, and if they wanted to get out of that shithole, massive effort could counter the damage Lucrecia had done.

Never underestimate a woman scheming for the last thirty years, he snickered.

Then Aerith was in front of the house, knocking on the door. Mother of God, what the hell was she thinking?

The door opened, revealing an eight year old with bright blue eyes and a mop of blond hair. "How may I help you?" he asked politely.

"Well, I'm Aerith, and this here is my friend, Cloud. We've been traveling for days now, and we thought it would be nice if we had a nice bath and a change of clothes."

The boy looked at her skeptically. "You're a stranger. Mommy said I shouldn't talk to strangers."

A haunting look flashed through Aerith's face, so subtle that Cloud thought he dreamed it. "Well, I know you have a collection of Marbles." She said, diverting the topic.

"How did you know I have marbles?"

"Every eight year old boy has a collection of marbles, "she said as a matter of fact. "I have a suggestion, why don't we have a trade?" Aerith presented three large Materias; a light blue, a light green, and a deep fuschia. "I'll give my marbles, in exchange, please let us have a bath and a change of clothes."

Poor boy.

Conflict was written all over his adorable face. Cloud knew he was tempted, oh so tempted to take the Materia. Between a parent's instruction and the allure of a brand new toy, the latter won out, and the boy found himself the owner of three invaluable Materias.

Marbles, Aerith had insisted.

He didn't want to ask where the boy's parents where. He just wanted to have a nice warm bath, soft comfortable clothes, and a ride going back to Nibelheim. It wasn't too much to ask for, was it?

After changing, Aerith kissed the boy's forehead and bid him good bye. The little boy held her hand. "Please take this, miss." And he handed her a loaf of bread, a gallon of milk, and white cheese.

Aerith gaped. "But we didn't ask for this."

"I know I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," he spoke sheepishly, "But something tells me that you really need to go somewhere for you to give me that Materia. I know they aren't marbles. They're Materia. Dad talks about them all the time, and I know their worth more than the hot bath and clothes I gave you." He scratched his head. "So please, accept this."

Aerith smiled, and graciously accepted the gifts.

"That was rather stupid" Cloud told her as they made their way to Junon. "He could tell the authorities."

"I don't like stealing."

"He's a darling boy, isn't he? His mother told him not to talk to strangers, and he broke that one rule for us."

Aerith smirked. "I talked to a stranger and look at where it led me."

Cloud rolled his eyes, wishing he had kept his mouth shut.

The boy's artless statement shouldn't have affected her. But it did affect her, unfortunately. It reminded her of a time when she should have listened to her own mother. But that was all in the past. No use crying over spilled milk, as she used to tell herself.

The future was much more important, and at this moment, her eventual return and reintegration in Nibelheim was her next project in mind.

Was it really possible to return to her old life? Oh, she doubted it. No matter how optimistic Cloud was about their future, she doubted if she could still be the same Aerith he wanted. The Flower Lady who warmly greeted him in her residence seven years ago.

That Aerith had died long ago, and she wasn't feeling sorry for Cloud now.

Either Cloud learned to live with the present her, or he returned to his ex-girlfriend of six years, her own bestfriend. Ex-bestfriend to be exact.

She hadn't meant to communicate with her, but she had been homesick, plus Reno was extra-lax on guarding her that she was able to slip a letter pass him. Aerith had no idea if the letter had reached Tifa. No idea at all. She didn't detail the horrors of the last six years, only the tale that her reality was a far cry from the dreams she used to have.

She didn't include a return address. Aerith couldn't afford receiving a letter from her, or from Cloud, or from her mother. She was certain they had hated her considering the circumstances she had left. That bastard Sephiroth made it appear she had eloped with him. Elvira would never forgive her, and she was sure Elvira would reject her when she appeared in front of her doorstep six years later.

She still had her slave tattoo burned on her chest, and her Shinra number somewhere in her body. Costa del Sol had an abundance of tattoo artists to cover those blasted marks with a brand new design. A flower would be nice. Although a falling comet wouldn't be bad either. Any design would do, as long as it covered her hideous past.

"So how do we transport a six foot monster to the Eastern Continent without attracting attention?"

"We could chop him into pieces." Aerith suggested with macabre humor. "Your limbs regenerate, right Zack?"

Zack merely hissed. Probably in disapproval.

"Why don't we hide him in a crate?"

Cloud appraised Zack's figure. "For his size, we'd have to pay 10,000 Gil."

Aerith nodded. "Do you have a wallet?"

"I left mine at Midgar."

"I left mine there too."

A moment of silence passed. "'Don't tell me you're planning on stealing a crate." She glared at him.

"Well, what are our other options? You can't knock on someone's door and ask them to pay for the crate."

"I know how to strip dance—"

"That's not funny, Aerith."

Aerith winked at him, laughing at his sour expression. "It was just a suggestion, and besides, you're a bounty hunter. Aren't hunters registered? You can always apply for a job at the Mercenary Guild."

True enough, the easiest job for them was to hunt wanted monsters in the wilderness. One week later, they bought a seven foot crate to hide Zack on board the S.S. Emerald, a large cruise ship to Costa Del Sol.

Everything was set. In two weeks' time, the S.S. Emerald would dock at Costa Del Sol, and she'd move on with her life.

The porter called their attention, looking apologetic. "Due to the incidence in Shinra a couple of weeks ago, we've received instruction that all contents must be inspected. We have to inspect whatever is inside the crate. "

Things weren't turning out to good. "It's just an unfinished statue, sir," she lied without any trace of nervousness. "My husband is a sculptor, and I am the painter. Our client in Costa wants to see us work in person."

The porter felt sorry for her. "Sorry maám, I'm just doing my job."

"I wouldn't advise you to see it, sir."

"Why?"

Sorry Zack.

"It's grotesque,"she paused, thinking of improving her alibi. "I'm afraid if the other passengers will see it, they might not board the ship at all."

"Nonsense!" the porter exclaimed. "It's just a statue, nothing to be afraid at all."

And so, the statue was unboxed, and the horror had begun.

The porter turn green and blue, and unable to stomach the sight of statue, he yelled. "Cover it now! We can't afford other passengers to see it, or they'll think this is a doomed voyage!"

The workers hurried to cover the creature. Zack looked convincing in his act. He never budged at all.

Cloud exhaled, looking relieved. "We were almost caught."

"Oh, they will catch us alright."

Cloud froze. "What do you mean?"

"I saw our faces plastered on the bulletin. We're wanted fugitives."

"Shit."

"They'll come to our room, sooner or later, and they'll realize the statue down there isn't really a statue."

"We could use an alternate route." Cloud proposed.

"It doesn't matter. We still need to cross the ocean."

Cloud grumbled and sank on the chair. There was so much problems to solve. "Do you think they'll come after us?"

"Maybe, when we reach Costa del Sol."

Cloud hated it. Hated that escape was so near, but they had so many problems to face.

"Don't complain Cloud, we're returning to Nibelheim after all right? Isn't that what you wanted?"

"I don't think we should stay in these rooms."

"Silly Cloud, we've just arrived. And I'm sure the captain will discover we are wanted fugitives… in one week's time."

"How do you know that?"

"Female intuition. Trust me."

He looked skeptical.

"The last time I didn't follow my tuition, I was forcibly taken from my house. How does that sound?"

One week later, her intuition proved correct. The captain had declared they were harboring fugitives and an extensive search was going to be implemented in each room. They were a tad too late.

"Sir, one of the emergency boats is missing." One of the captain's men reported.

"What? Since when?"

"Since you ordered the extensive search."

The captain pounded his fist on the table, turning purple in rage. Damn. A pair of youngsters had outsmarted him. He hated being outsmarted. Hated it to a burning degree.

"What will we do captain?"

"Inform headquarters." He answered. "Those brats are going to the eastern continent aren't they? I'll make sure Shinra will get them, even if I won't.

It was suicide, Cloud contemplated, as they braved the raging waters with their small boat. The weather turned from good to worse, and unless they found a cove, the three of dead would never return home alive.

Then a large wave smashed their boat, and the last sight Cloud saw was Aerith. Did she even know how to swim?

When he regained consciousness, a lone flame lit the dark cave. The storm brewed outside, thunder cracking, the winds raging. Zack stood outside the mouth of the cave, guarding the entrance like a guard dog.

The sound of an object being cut draw his attention. Aerith was cutting a coconut with a sharp stone, hardly causing a dent to it. She turned to his direction, noting he had finally regained consciousness. She was only wearing her undergarments. Dark lace. Damn, she actually looked good in them.

He looked around the cave, remarking that he too was wearing his undergarments. Their clothes were hung over the bright flame.

"The boat is wrecked."Aerith spoke, pounding her the coconut on a sharp rock. "I think we can create a makeshift raft. I saw bamboo plants not too far from here."

"You're resourceful."

"I know a good plant when I see one."

"That's the flower lady I know," he replied. "How long have we stayed here?"

"I don't know. I don't have a watch, and I haven't seen the sun since we were shipwrecked."

"Oh."

Aerith finally succeeded in breaking the coconut. Clear juice spilled from the husk, and Cloud swallowed, parched. She was kind enough to offer the coconut to him, God bless her soul, and he devoured in less than a minute. Zack came near with another coconut in hand and offered it to Aerith.

She grinned at Zack, the first genuine smile Cloud had seen since the escape from Midgar.

"You can break this thing with your claw, Zack. Do you really want to make my life miserable?"

Zack nodded.

"Bummer," Aerith sighed, proceeding to break the coconut into half again. A good three minutes passed before she succeeded in her task.

"That's the first genuine smile I've seen on your face," Cloud blurted, unsure why he needed to say it.

She raised her brows nonchalantly. "Someone's observant."

He coughed. "Well, I did risk my ass to find you in Midgar."

"Thanks," she said without any trace of gratitude and looked away from him.

Then there was that silence again, briefly punctuated by the crackling flames and the sound of thunder. He was used to silence, but the silence between them was different. And he wanted to eliminate it.

Then Aerith surprised him by breaking it first. "Why did you come and save me?" she uttered out loud, still not facing him.

"I already told you why I came for you."

"You must have had a good life with Tifa,"she mumbled. "Tifa's beautiful. She has bigger breasts than mine, and—" she paused when he burst into laughter.

"Did you really have to say that?" he said, trying to catch his breath.

"It's the truth." she said, looking flushed, and she drew irregular lines and shapes on the ground. "She's so much better than me. So why all the effort?"

"I like you."

"I'm trash."

They weren't entering this subject matter again. "I accept whatever happened to you Aerith, good and bad."

"You can't possibly mean that."

Damn women, he thought irritably. Lie to them and they won't believe you. Tell the truth and they won't believe you.

"It's a little foolish for me to believe that things will go back to the way they used to be. I'm not the same. Zack's not the same."

"Even if the physical appearance may not be the same, both of you are still important to me."

He was tired of explaining himself to her. Her obsession with the past and the concept of trash disturbed him. As if she didn't want to remove the filth she had fallen into.

Her predicament was understandable, he tried to assure himself. Some people had difficulty moving on from a bad phase in their lives, and Aerith was one of them. He was unsure if he could carry on with her repeating statements of self-pity.

If only she hadn't been kidnapped, he thought sadly. If only Sephiroth had never seen her…

Suddenly, a question popped in his head. One he wanted to ask Lucrecia. One he wanted to ask her.

"Aerith, there's something I want to ask."

"Go ahead."

"Who was the woman Zack was referring to when he visited you at the Honey Bee?"

She focused her attention at him, trying to understand his question. "What woman?"

"The woman whom Sephiroth was supposed to take instead of you."

Her sharp intake filled the room. Even Zack's head snapped to their direction. Was he asking a question he wasn't supposed to tread?

"Why don't you ask Zack yourself?" she said, pointing to their friend.

Her sarcasm was starting to pique him. "Zack is only capable of a screech."

"She's not important, and it's as if you will die if I don't tell you."

So many questions to ask her, so little answers she supplied.

And her answers were hardly helpful.

"So you do know the woman."

Aerith bit her lip. "Yes. Sephiroth told me, or rather, tormented me with that fact, actually."

"I never really understood why Sephiroth hated you that much." he told her, scooping the heavenly coconut meat into his mouth. "He kidnapped you, sold you, beat you, made you strip, and tormented you about that woman. Sheesh, what was running in his head?"

Aerith closed her eyes, with a serene expression on her face. "He's a little like me, you know."

"In what way?"

She tilted her head away from him. "Have you ever heard the idea that hurt people, hurt people?"

"Don't tell me you're feeling sorry for him."

"A little, but I still hate him."

"Enlighten me then."

Aerith exhaled. "If you say so." Stretching her legs, she gazed into the fire pit, as if remembering a tale. "Believe it or not, Sephiroth sees himself as trash."

"That's hard to believe."

"Go figure," she spat.

"I'm listening. Go on."

Aerith drew a deep breath, telling a tale she probably would never repeat again. And he listened, hoping it would shed light or provide a clue to help him understand the man who ruined everything.

"Several years ago, a time way before I even met him, Sephiroth frequented the Eastern Continent. He was an avid Mixed Martial Arts fan, betting on his fighters for fun and to increase his fortunes. One day, a participant caught his attention. The sole woman in that arena. She was a wild card entry, and believing she would lose, Sephiroth bet on her opponent."

"What happened?"

"She won, and Sephiroth lost one million Gil that night. Not that it hurt his pocket. That son of a bitch has more money to burn. But he didn't like losing, nor did he like to look like a fool. And that woman made a fool out of him."

"By winning the match?"

"Blame it on his pride."

"What happened next?"

"He decided to recruit her, and she rejected him, saying she wasn't interested in being his lap dog. That didn't help his wounded ego, and he did the best thing he knew to humiliate her."

"What?"

"Tried to had her kidnapped and sold in the black market. He failed, of course, or his men bungled it all up. I heard he had those men fed to the Marlboros. A pity, aren't they? The woman didn't give up without a fight, and Sephiroth liked a good challenge."

"So what did Sephiroth do next?"

"Tried to have her kidnapped several times. All attempts failed, and then the weirdest thing happened—he fell in love with her."

That green-eyed monster was capable of love?

"He fell in love with his target?"

She nodded. "Literally. I think he realized it the moment she punched him in the face during another kidnap attempt."

Whoever this woman was, Cloud thought, was incredible. "What happened next?"

"He tried to get all the facts he knew about her, and he discovered she was a high schooler who fought to put food on the table. She was in love with a man, but that man in question was in love with another woman."

Things were starting to unravel, like the romance novels Zack gobbled with gusto. "Why are you telling me Sephiroth's love story when I'm asking about the identity of that woman?"

"Because it's connected to me," she said coldly. "With love came Sephiroth's realization that she could never love him for his sordid past. For the horrible things he committed. For the kidnap attempts he put her in. But he loved her, and strangely, and he wanted her to be happy. I don't know what sick logic was running in his head, but he decided that if he couldn't have her, then at least the woman he loved could have the man of her dreams. And for that to happen, he had to take the obstacle in between them."

The pieces of the puzzle were starting to fit. "You were the obstacle." He croaked, realizing the identity of the nameless woman she was narrating about. His ex-girlfriend for the last six years. The boxer. The only woman he knew who knew how to bring a man to his knees.

"But I don't understand it. I mean, if they knew each other, then she would have recognized him at the dance—"

"Sephiroth dyed his hair black and wore contact lenses when he met her."

But her revelation still didn't explain Sephiroth's cruel treatment towards her. "How do you know all about this?"

"Lucrecia told me," she admitted. "and when she returned me to Sephiroth, that damn bastard told me about it."

"Does Tifa know-?" He had to ask. He had to know if his ex-girlfriend knew the hot water she indirectly put Aerith in.

"She doesn't know, and I don't think Sephiroth could have told her either."

"That still doesn't explain why he treated you horribly."

"He's cruel to the women he captures." She replied. "I just received extra special treatment. As weird as it sounds, he didn't want to sully Tifa with the terrible details of life. It must have produced conflict in his head, wanting someone for yourself, then pushing them away because you don't want them to be tainted with your filth. And because he couldn't cope with it, he took his frustrations on me. I think he hated himself that much."

That was the clue he was waiting for. An indication that her continuous cold treatment of him and her rejections weren't because she hated him.

But because she cared.

"Do you hate yourself that much too?"

She froze, realizing the logic behind his question. "I don't know what to say."

"Tell me the truth Aerith," closing the distance between them, he cradled her face in his hands. "No more masks. No more lies. Tell me the truth."

Her tears fell. One by one. She wasn't hysterical, no. She just looked at him, allowing the tears to flow from her face, and when she spoke, raw pain gripped her voice.

"I so dirty, Cloud." she whispered, a line she repeated so many times. "I'm sorry if I can't be the person I used to be anymore, the one you saw that afternoon in my house. I know I didn't want everything to happen to me. I want to move on with my life. I want to forget all the bad memories. I want to go back to Nibelheim and pretend that the last years were just a dream. I want to pretend that we were still in highschool, that you asked me our for dance, that we became the Lord and Lady of the Night, that I was the one whom you took to bed that night, that I was your girlfriend for the last six years."

She paused to wipe away the tears. " I know I sound like a broken record, and I'm sorry, but I can't help it. The future is in our hands to create, yet the darkness consumes me sometimes, and suddenly I'm standing in front of the block again, I can see Sephiroth, the injections, the hot poker, then men leering at me, the gun between Zack's head. It's too much... I don't know if I can be alright, or if I will be alright. I don't know if I can wake up one morning without the emptiness gnawing my chest. You've taken me out from Midgar, but I can't take Midgar out of my mind. I'm so sorry for this bullshit, Cloud, I'm so sorry-"

He pulled her against his chest, feeling the wetness of her tears. For a moment, he was outside her house again, standing outside her garden, talking about plants, hesitating to ask her to be his partner. If only he had asked her. If only he wasn't a second too late...

"Everything is going to be alright," he promised her. "I won't leave you."

"Don't say things you can't deliver."

"I risked my ass for you."

"You have a nice ass by the way." she snickered.

At least she was starting to find humor in their situation, he thought. Her tears had dried up and he released her from his embrace.

"Our clothes must be dry now." she excused herself and took their clothes, inspecting the garments before returning his.

Cloud watched her as she donned her garments, pondering his next steps.

He would wait for her, he decided with finality. Despite the intervening years, despite the darkness she told him that overwhelmed her, he would wait. With grim admission, the darkness would always be there with her, and he acknowledge that love was not enough to make it go away.

But he was an optimist, and he believed that humans were capable of handling all the good and bad that came their way, and he would help her realize that.

He would wait for her, stand beside her, no matter how long it took, no matter how many seasons would pass.

She had saved his dying plant years ago, and this time, he would save her dying optimistic view in life.

No matter what.