Chapter 10: Rufus's Inauguration Ceremony
Cool sunlight glanced through the windows of the neat little Junon inn stationed at the corner of Tenth Street. The entire group except Reno, who always overslept, was sitting in the parlor and having breakfast, when an orchestra struck up outside.
"Ah," said Tifa, pausing in the act of lifting a spoon of oatmeal to her lips. "What is that awful noise?"
"Sounds like a military parade," said Barret, shoving a bread roll into his mouth. "Wouldn't be surprised, since it's a military town and all."
One of the inn staff passed by, and overheard their conversation. "You're right, sir," he said. "They are having a welcome parade for the new president of Shinra."
The group exchanged glances. "Uh," said Barret. "Rufus Shinra is coming here?"
"Yes, sir. It's the closest military base to Midgard, and they've been ordered to organize the march two days ago. It will be happening this afternoon. It's all been hustle and bustle up there since then. Good for business though."
The group continued their morning meal in relative silence, mulling over this news. After some time, Reno joined them. His hair was in disorder, and he seemed to be nursing a foul mood. He seated himself in silence next to Rude and helped himself to some leftovers.
"What's the matter?" Barret asked him.
Reno gave something that sounded like a snarl. "That dammed racket. Woke me up. Going through my head like a needle."
Tifa eyed him for a moment. "Reno," she said, "did you go drinking last night, by any chance?"
He gave her a sour look, but refused to reply. "Ah," she said gently. "That's all the answer that I needed."
"I'll have you know that it was an excellent bar," Reno said disdainfully. "And the waitress was very open to compliments."
"I bet," Tifa said placidly.
"And she made outstanding drinks. So much better than in some bars in Midgard. I won't mention names, but I'll just say that the drinks are not all that great, and the service isn't all that friendly."
"Hey!" Barret growled. "Are you dissing my bar?"
"I didn't mention names," Reno said.
"Leave it, Barret," Tifa said. "He just has a hangover."
"Ugh," Reno groaned, as another piece of music blared through the window. "Somebody shut this window if they have any pity on me. I thought that this town was quiet, dammit."
Rude got up without a word, and closed the window. The sounds became a little fainter, but Reno did not seem satisfied. He rose to his feet.
"And where are you going?" Barret asked, throwing an arm in his way to bar him from leaving.
"To catch on some sleep, with my head under at least three pillows."
"Well, you're going nowhere if you want to continue with us. We are going to assemble on the beach in an hour or so."
"Why?"
"You'll know when we get there. Now sit down."
Reno grumbled, but obeyed. He lowered his head to the table and wrapped his arms around it as another piece of orchestral music, even more aggressively loud, floated stridently through the closed window. "Ugh," he moaned. "Today's not my day, I just know it."
Priscilla was sitting poised and prim in her bed, smoothing down her white nightgown. When a lady is about to be visited by her hero, she has to put on her best manners. Zack entered the room and Priscilla extended her hand graciously towards him. "Hello," she said. "Thank you for visiting me."
Zack seated himself on the edge of the bed. "How are you, Priscilla? Your father allowed us to visit you for a little while."
"Us?" Priscilla echoed suspiciously.
"Hi, Priscilla!" said a young woman, entering the room and giving her a warm smile. "Your father said that you're feeling better."
Priscilla's eyes clouded with displeasure. It was the beautiful young woman from yesterday. The Beauty came over, seating herself at Zack's side. "We're so glad that you're all right, Priscilla."
"Thank you," Priscilla answered stiffly, sitting very straight in her bed. She looked from Zack to Tifa. "Are you two married?" she asked abruptly.
Tifa and Zack exchanged glances. "No, we're not," Tifa replied, biting her lip to hide a smile. Zack scratched the back of his neck, muttering something.
Priscilla's eyes lit up in satisfaction. "Good," she said.
"Listen, Priscilla" Tifa said. "We're trying to reach the military base above Junon. Your father said that we could do it with the help of the dolphin that you are training. Is that true?"
"Yes," the child answered. "The dolphin can leap very high, if you whistle to him at the right time. Then you can jump on the electric tower, and climb to the base. You have to be very careful though."
"That's good," Tifa said. "Will you help us, Priscilla? As soon as you feel well."
"Oh, I feel well now!" Priscilla said quickly. "Just let me dress up. You'll be there, right?" she asked, turning her eyes to Zack.
Zack nodded with a carefully neutral expression. He was conscious of Tifa smirking at him. As they rose to go she whispered into his ear slyly: "Zack, I believe that you have an admirer."
He glanced at her with a half-smile. "Well, I hope that I deserve one."
"Oh, you do!" Tifa said, winking at him. Priscilla remained in her bed, staring after them suspiciously. She did not know what the Beauty was saying to her hero, but instinctively felt that she was not a woman who could be trusted. It was her duty, she knew, to watch the Beauty's every move when her hero was near.
The beach was flooded with the strong light of noon. The group stood in the sun, listening to Priscilla's instructions. "All right," the child said, businesslike. "Here's how you do it. You whistle like this, and the dolphin will jump." She demonstrated by putting the whistle in her mouth and producing a shrill signal. The large blue dolphin responded with a great leap out of the water. Its body flipped upwards, almost reaching the top of the tower.
"That's amazing!" Zack muttered, genuinely impressed.
The girl turned a pleased smile towards him. "Yes, isn't it? What you have to do is go into the water and hold onto the dolphin's back. Then you whistle. If you whistle at the right time, he'll raise you with him, and you can catch onto the beams. My papa says that you can reach the base from that place."
Zack passed a quick glance across the faces around him. "I can do this, unless anyone objects."
"You're the professional spy," Barret said. "We're counting on you."
"All right, then. Wait for me near the base elevators. I'll be as quick as I can."
"Wait," said the child. She advanced towards Zack, extending her hand. "I have something for you." She presented a small, round object that shone icily in her hand. "This is a special materia. The townspeople decided to give it to you because you saved me." She pressed it into Zack's hand.
"Give it to me, Zack," said Tifa. "So you won't lose it."
But Priscilla grabbed it back at once, looking jealously at Tifa. "No! I'm giving it to HIM. HE saved me."
Tifa shrugged. "All right," she said, retreating.
Zack took the materia from Priscilla. "Thank you," he said.
"It'll only work ONCE," she warned. "So use it only when you think it absolutely necessary. All right?"
He promised that he would, and placed the materia in his jacket. Then he waded into the water, approaching the swimming dolphin.
The rest of the party watched as he grabbed onto the dolphin's back. He looked up, squinting in the strong light that shone from behind the tower and trying to estimate the distance. When he judged that the time was right, he blew the whistle.
The dolphin leapt. Zack flew in the air along with it, the beams coming towards him with an alarming speed. He reached out with one hand, and as the beams passed by, he grabbed onto them. His foot caught on one of the beams below and he found himself clinging to the tower. Trying not to look down, he climbed slowly, and after a while managed to reach the top of the beam. He made sure that his hold was stable before he dared to glance down. He could see the faces of the party raised up to him.
"You did it, Zack!" Priscilla screamed exultantly.
"Good luck, Zack!" Tifa cried. "We'll meet you at the door."
He raised his hand, waving to the party. Then he proceeded along the beams, progressing carefully in order to keep his balance, and trying not to look down anymore until his feet were on sure ground.
Zack soon discovered that he had arrived at the base from the direction of the port. As he advanced, he could see the huge form of an airship resting on the even expanse of cement that formed the launching area. This, he knew, was the Highwind, which took its name from its designer and builder, some genius pilot who resided in a town located not too far from his own. When he was seventeen, his class took a field trip to the town where the pilot resided, but they only saw the rocket that witnessed to the recently failed space experiments that Shinra conducted in the town. He had also heard of the airship, and had sometimes seen it traveling in the sky over Midgard; but he had never seen it from up close. He stood for some moments, taking in the magnificent vision. He recalled that Shinra had exclusive rights to the airship, and tried to guess by what arts, bribery, or possibly threats this was achieved. He shrugged to himself in resignation. The company had too much power, and under Rufus they were bound to grow worse.
He began to survey the area, looking for ways to blend in with the base personnel. He already decided that if he was questioned he would pretend to be an engineer on call from the town. He still had his Shinra ID, and knew that it would assist him if he encountered any complications, provided it had not been flagged yet. Rufus knew nothing about him, and would not be able to tell that he was an engineer. He thought that Rufus had assumed that he was part of the Avalanche crew on that night which, paradoxically, may have worked for his advantage.
He soon spied a door at the side of the building and made his way towards it quickly, thinking that it may be a possible place to conceal himself until he found better options. The door led into a tunnel-like structure. He walked down the passage, and after a short time he found another door. He opened it carefully, and found himself inside a locker room.
As he was looking around, there was a noise of approaching footsteps. A man dressed in a guard's uniform entered. He halted when he saw him. "Hey, kid," he said. "You're late for the parade. What are you still doing here?"
"I'm sorry," said Zack. "I came to get my uniform, but I'm still new and they didn't assign a locker for me. Do you know if there's a spare I could use?"
"Ah," said the man. "One of the Midgard rookies. Follow me." He led Zack to a closet, and, opening it, rummaged for a uniform that seemed like it would fit. Zack thanked him for his kindness and the guard, advising him to hurry and saying that he was needed elsewhere, left the locker room. Zack changed his clothes quickly and, after some thought, selected several other uniforms in sizes that seemed like they would work for his teammates, and bundled them inside a bag. He stole out, hoping that he wouldn't run into the same guard; but the busy bustle of the ceremony proved to be beneficial to his mission. The upper base was nearly empty at this point, most personnel having already reported to the parade area in the lower base.
He eventually found his way to the inner town, which featured several shops, and noted a small hotel at the corner, presumably for relatives on a visit, or guests. It would be a useful place to hide for the group, he thought; most Shinra personnel had IDs, so it wouldn't do for the group to wander around too much. After asking people on the street for directions, he eventually found his way to the elevator area.
He deliberated over his options as he stepped into the elevator and pressed the switch. His mission was almost complete, and he hoped that he could find the others quickly. He'll have to trust the mess of the ceremony day— and his luck.
The little hotel at the Junon base was a tiny 3-story structure that obviously used to serve as an apartment building, and the group hired a two-room apartment suite on the second floor. Reno crawled into one of the beds almost as soon as they entered, and fell asleep within a few moments. Zack went to scout for more information, and Rude and Barret went to get some food from a nearby deli. Aerith followed them, but now she entered the girls' room and approached Tifa.
"Tifa," she said, "I know that you have a fake ID that your technician Jesse prepared for you. Can I borrow it for a while?"
"What for?" Tifa asked.
"I just want to look around the town," Aerith said vaguely. "I'll dress in a soldier's uniform."
"Zack advised us to stay inside unless it was absolutely necessary," Tifa reminded her. "Unlike him, we don't have the proper IDs."
"I just need to go for a little while," Aerith said, looking away.
Tifa scanned the Cetra's averted profile for a moment. She often felt puzzled about Aerith, and felt less close to her than to the men. She tended to stay away from her because she knew that when she spoke to her she would always end up dissatisfied, as if she missed something somehow, or feeling as if Aerith was hiding something. She hesitated for another moment. But then she took the card out of her pocket and handed it to Aerith without additional questions. She knew that the answers will not clarify anything to her satisfaction.
"Thank you," Aerith said softly. "Now I'm Lara Croft." She uttered a small laugh and left the room. Tifa leant back on the bed. She just wanted to rest and not worry about anything, for at least a little while.
Aerith gazed into the narrow streets of the shopping district, fingering the card resting in the pocket of her blue uniform. She lowered the soldier's mask over her eyes. She presented the image of a proper soldier, if one overlooked her diminutive physique. The mask kept half of her face covered, and she hoped to pass off as a very young recruit. And if she was found out for a girl, well, girls were rare in the service, but she may still manage to fool them.
She walked along the noisy streets for a while, and entered a building that looked like a bar. As she surveyed the smokey atmosphere, a teenaged girl's voice carried into her ears. "Listen, you. I'm a TURK. So don't tell me that I'm too young for this, all right?"
"I'm sorry, miss," said the bartender's voice. "We don't serve underage children with alcohol. I can give you a non-alcoholic drink, if you'd like."
"SOLDIER recruits in Midgard are served alcohol at sixteen!" the girl snapped.
"That's neither here nor there what they do in Midgard, and what SOLDIER recruits are allowed to do against the law," said the man patiently. "Here, we abide by the laws, and you are not allowed alcohol."
Aerith advanced. Even before seeing the girl, she could recognize Yuffie's arrogant tones. Yuffie seemed to give up the argument, because Aerith now discerned her skulking morosely into a corner. But when she saw Aerith she sprang to her feet, slinking towards her. "Hey there," she whispered. "I have a great deal for you." Tugging at Aerith's sleeve, she pulled her into a shadowy corner. "You buy me an alcoholic drink at the bar, and you get something good in return. What do you say?"
"Depends on what I get," Aerith answered.
Yuffie shoved her hand into her pocket and fished out a translucent green globe. "Materia," she whispered. "Expensive one, too. It used to belong to a Turk."
"All right," Aerith replied. She approached the bartender and ordered a drink. The man, however, sighed as he looked her over.
"You look too young," he said. "How old are you?
"Twenty-two," Aerith replied.
"More like sixteen," answered the man. "Get on your way now, boy."
Aerith shrugged, returning to Yuffie. "I tried."
Yuffie looked displeased, and shrank back into her corner. After a few moments, however, she spied a tall soldier entering the bar. "There's a more likely one," she muttered. As Aerith looked on, Yuffie repeated her whispered offer to the newcomer. She listened, and heard the man's reply. "Ah," he drawled, with what seemed to be a deliberately audible volume which carried clearly throughout the bar. "So, kid, let me get this straight— you're offering a MATERIA if I buy you a DRINK?"
Yuffie gave an angry shriek. "YOU BASTARD! I'll have you know that I'm a TURK and you'll be punished for this!"
"Yuffie," said a new voice from the doorway, making the ninja jump. A blond woman in a navy-colored suit entered the bar. "I order you to return to your room at once. And if you continue in this behavior, I'll hold you under confinement. And, for the last time, stop lying about being a Turk, or I'll send you home."
She motioned Yuffie to follow her, and walked out. Yuffie obeyed, but as she passed near the soldier she attempted a swing at him. He jumped back nimbly. Yuffie, uttering a small scream of rage, ran out of the bar.
The soldier approached Aerith quickly. "Hey there," he said, squeezing her shoulder. "Wasn't that a good joke?"
"Reno, what are you doing here?" Aerith asked.
"Following you, of course," he replied. "I know you. If I let you go alone, you'll be in trouble in no time."
"Please don't follow me any further," Aerith said, turning around.
Reno said nothing for a moment, examining her turned back; then he shrugged. "Fine, Aerith. I can see that you want to be alone. That's it, right?"
She smiled at him over her shoulder. "Right. Now, get back to the hotel."
Reno followed her with his eyes as she left, then turned to the bar. "I will," he muttered. "But first, I think I'll get a bit of a drink."
The streets of the lower base were crowded with people, all lined up on either side of the main avenue in an effort to gain the best view that they could of the parade. Soldiers were lined up neatly in the avenue, marching after the presidential car, and the crowds in the streets were thick, forming an almost impassable wall. Aerith found herself amidst a squad of soldiers, and tried to peer through the assembly, attempting to gain a better look at the events in the street. She was intent on her task, and started when a voice addressed her sternly from behind.
"You're late, soldier! Come on, we need to fall into step like the others."
Aerith spun around, and found herself facing a commander of a squad who frowned down at her with disapproval. Several soldiers were standing to attention behind him. "Well, soldier?" he barked. "Are you going to follow orders or not?"
Aerith knew better than to refuse. She took a place with the other soldiers, and stood to attention. "Good," said the commander. "Now, follow me."
He led them to an entrance of a building, and turned to address the squad. "Listen, men," he said. "You need to integrate into the back of the line. Remember, this is seen on national cable, and we don't want any slips. You—" he pointed at Aerith, "will go first. Remember, boy: the back of the line. Got it?"
Aerith nodded. She stood as directed, watching the parade closely, then snuck to the end of the line, falling into a marching beat with the rest of the soldiers. She could see the silver car ahead, with the new Shinra president standing and waving to the crowds.
She was mulling over a plan to get away from the line as she marched, but the commander paid attention to her. As the march passed beyond the crowds and to the buildings behind he approached the soldiers, and pulled her over. "All right," he said. "You, boy, and two others, will come with me to salute the president. I want you to perform your best moves." He looked Aerith over, frowning again. "Where's your sword?"
Aerith shrugged. The man scowled. "You're getting demerits for that! Follow me." He dragged Aerith into a locker room and rummaged through the lockers. After some time he handed her a slender but beautiful sword forged of dark metal that shone red and purple in the light, its honed edge in ripples. "This here is called the Butterfly Edge. It's good enough for you. You and the rest will practice the salute."
Aerith watched the soldiers closely, emulating their moves the best that she could. She was nimble, but she had never been very dexterous, and found it a little difficult to follow them. The commander seemed to be increasingly frustrated with her. He folded his arms, gazing at her with growing disapproval. Finally, he made a gesture of negation. "All right, then! Unfortunately, we don't have time to recruit someone else. This is good enough. Now, to the new president's honor. Follow me, and no slips."
Rufus observed the sharp, pale skies above the base of Junon. A huge crimson banner spread upon the base's front, with the words "New Age Rufus" scrawled on it in black letters. The writing was seen for miles into the sea, which was its exact purpose.
He passed his hand through his hair, feeling bored. Heidegger accompanied him on this journey and, as always, he was obnoxious and annoying. If the man didn't know his job he would have been replaced at once. He deliberated upon this possibility when Heidegger's loud voice interrupted his thoughts. "Sir, the salute squad is here."
Rufus turned around and watched the advancing soldiers. There were three of them, one very young. He waited patiently as the soldiers readied their salutes. The commander, looking anxious, gave the order to begin.
Two of the soldiers did their job perfectly, but the third— the young-looking one— was a little shaky. Rufus sensed his tedium increasing. While this was a minor matter, it was certainly not the kind of performance that he expected. He scanned the young soldier over, and his eyes met a green-eyed gaze.
Some people are gifted with a quick recollection of vague memories, and Rufus was such a person. He gestured casually to the commander. "You all are dismissed. This one—" he pointed at the young soldier— "will stay here."
The commander was unsure whether this was an honor, but obeyed without question. The soldiers withdrew. Rufus turned to Heidegger.
"Prepare the ship," he said. "I'll follow shortly."
Heidegger left. Rufus stood with his hands in his pockets, looking the youth over coolly. After a pause, in which the young soldier stood very still, he spoke. "I must congratulate you on a job well-done—"
He advanced and tore the mask off, "—Aerith."
She was very quiet for a moment. Then she asked, "So what will you do now?"
He shrugged, scanning her face. "I could arrest you all, but I'm not sure of the advantage that it will give me as of yet."
"And what if I tell you that I'm alone?"
Rufus raised an eyebrow. "I'll say that you're a liar."
"But it's the truth," she answered calmly.
Rufus's eyes narrowed. Then he said: "You're after something, Cetra. And I intend to find out what it is."
There was another pause. Then Aerith asked, "Are you going to arrest me?"
"Well," he said indifferently, "I made an investigation of this case. I will make my mind up about it as soon as I have more information."
"Then why don't you question me?" she asked.
The young Shinra president looked at her, his lip curling. "Much good this technique did Hojo. Eh, little Cetra?"
Then he turned around and waved his hand casually. "Dismissed."
Aerith watched his retreating form. Then she pulled the mask over her eyes again, turned around, and ran towards the town.
By the time Zack returned to the inn, the news of Aerith's disappearance and Reno's absence were known to everyone in the group. Zack offered to look for them, and Tifa, who was tempted to make a scathing remark about Reno, recalled her own part in assisting Aerith's departure and refrained from speaking. However, the situation was resolved quickly afterwards when the door opened, and Reno entered.
"Oh," he said. "Everyone in uniform?" He walked over to Tifa, surveying her over. "Tifa. It suits you wonderfully."
"Ugh," Tifa said, turning from him. "You've been drinking."
Reno smirked at her, then turned to Rude. "Rude, you ought to check that bar out. Drinks are— so— good." He walked over to the bed, and began to slide under the covers. "I'm going to catch on some more sleep," he announced.
"Oh no you don't!" Tifa said, striding towards him and boxing his shoulder. "Get up! We have to hurry!"
"Reno, where is Aerith?" Zack asked.
"I'm here," said Aerith's voice. She peered through the half-open door. "Sephiroth is going to cross the sea," she stated. "We can follow him if we sneak onto the Shinra ship. It's leaving soon, so we have to hurry." She vanished again without waiting for a reply.
Everyone exchanged glances. Then Zack said, "Let's follow her. She usually seems to know these things."
Everyone obeyed except Reno, who seemed ready to fall asleep on the bed. Barret turned around, walked towards him, and raised him from the bed by the collar of his shirt. "If you're not coming now," he said, "we're leaving you behind."
Reno swore something under his breath. "I KNEW it wasn't my day today," he muttered, rubbing his forehead. But he rose from the bed and followed Barret out of the room.
Tifa stood on the deck of the ship, watching the sky. She allowed herself a sigh of relief, knowing that they successfully completed their infiltration into the ship. It was out into the sea for several hours now, and her team, disguised as crew workers, took assorted stations around the deck. From her high point she could see Zack leaning over the rails, his eyes on the sea. Barret was near the captain's quarters, and Rude— where was Rude? She shook her head. Rude always managed to be elusive.
She sighed again, and kept her gaze on the waves. The shining blue glitter was calming and beautiful.
A soldier approached her, breaking her meditation. "All's well?" asked a stern voice.
She nodded and stood to attention. "Yes, sir!"
She heard a chuckle. "It's me, Tifa. No need to be formal."
She relaxed her posture. "It's you, Reno."
"Yeah," he replied. "I think I'll like this job. Nothing much to do at the moment."
"Suits you well," she said tartly. "And where is Aerith? I haven't seen her in a while."
"Me neither. No idea. She has this habit of wandering off and I can't keep track of her, no matter how hard I try."
"Great," Tifa sighed. "I hope she's not in trouble again."
"It's Aerith," Reno said. "You get one guess."
Aerith ran into the engine room. She stopped in her tracks, and looked up.
A man stood before her. A man she had never seen in her life, yet that she sensed with such force, the disturbance that he caused in the fabric of time and space like a sinkhole drawing her to him, that there was no need to ask who he was. She knew him.
The man gazed at her with eyes that shimmered with green energy. Then, the black cape and the long, pale hair swirled as before a storm, as he sprang up and darted into the air.
The vision vanished. A young man stood before her: Cloud. He remained in the shadows for a moment without saying a word. In the dim light, the young man and the Cetra were like a pair of opposites; she shining in her white clothes, he a shadow in his dark outfit.
Then he stepped up to her quickly, his blue eyes flashing, his face livid. "Ah ha ha," he said. "Little Cetra. You are under my power now." His fingers, as hard as iron, closed around her shoulders, and Aerith could neither move nor retreat.
She did not resist him, and stood very still. She knew that she was in great danger; but a very calm inner voice told her to wait for the right moment.
Cloud was breathing hard, as if he had just run a race. Then his hands shook Aerith's shoulders. "You— you accursed witch," he growled. "WHAT do you think that you've done to my puppet? Tell me!"
"I don't know what you mean," she replied softly, her green eyes surveying his face.
"You don't know!" He gave a sardonic laugh. "Why, I am asking you, is he so strong? Why did he successfully resist me more than once, and so persistently that I had to humiliate myself by striking a bargain with him? Was it the spell you cast on him? Answer me!"
"If he resisted you," Aerith responded, "it was his own doing. I only tried to help him to break free of this curse."
"Curse," the entity snarled in Cloud's voice. "I'll have you know that my puppets belong to ME. NOT to you, Cetra." The blue eyes glimmered with a green fire. "Do you know how contemptibly low I had to stoop because of his defiance? I had to use a corrupt, nearly useless puppet that happened to be kept in the Shinra lab and had been scheduled for destruction. And he STILL refuses to do my bidding!"
Aerith stood very still throughout this tirade, her eyes fixed on Cloud's face. He bared his teeth. "Well?" he demanded. "I'm warning you, Cetra. I want answers right now. What is this power? How did you acquire it?"
Still, Aerith did not reply. Then, ignoring the hurtful grip arresting her, she edged closer to Cloud, still looking up into his face.
Cloud's body jerked away as she moved closer. "Stay away from him!" he snarled again, more viciously. "Don't you DARE to do anything— don't… you… dare—"
He trailed off. Aerith stepped very close to him, her body almost touching his. She brought her face near his, turning it up to him. He threw his head back instinctively, but did not pull back, and his grip on her shoulders relaxed slightly. "Don't do this…" He panted. "Don't… A— Aerith…"
The last word was almost a whisper, and the accents had changed. His gaze was arrested on her face, and he stared at her as if he was trying to memorize every aspect of her countenance. She maintained her intent survey of his face, and was now looking directly into his eyes, seeking the recognition within their depths.
"Cloud," she murmured. "I know that you can hear me now."
She raised her hands towards him and, seeing that he wasn't resisting, cupped his face with her palms and stroked his cheeks with her fingers gently. He gave an electrified jump. For a moment, he raised one hand very slightly; but the motion was almost mechanical, as if drawn up by a magnetic compulsion, and it sank to his side nervelessly.
"Aerith," he stammered. "B… be… c… careful—"
His voice sank into a murmur. He stood still, staring at her, and breathing shakily as she stroked his cheeks. Her lashes lowered and she moved her hands to the back of his head, and began to stroke his hair down with her fingertips. He closed his eyes and, as if drawn by an irresistible pull, started to lean towards her slowly. She rose to her tiptoes, and, her mouth meeting his, began to kiss him softly.
Another visible tremor shook his frame and his body swayed slightly, as if before the swell of an ocean. For a few moments he submitted to her, his eyes closed, his breath coming in shallow exhalations. Then he opened his eyes slowly, fixing an abstracted gaze on her from underneath his lashes; and, as if breaking under the pressure, he began to return her kisses, his fingers kneading into her shoulders, then pulling her closer, pressing her against him.
After a few moments he suddenly halted, and gave a tremulous breath. Then he withdrew away from her slightly. He opened his eyes again, fixing a mesmerized look on her countenance, and raised his hands, wrapping his fingers around her palms. Then he leant close to her again, his face almost touching her neck, and she heard him breathing a shaken whisper into her ear: "Aerith…"
"Yes?" she whispered.
He turned his face a little, his eyes closed, and rubbed his lips against her fingers, in a gesture that was almost affectionate. "You—"
Her fingers were trembling inside his hands. "Yes?"
With the quickness of a snake biting its victim, he locked his fingers around her hands with a vicelike grip. He jerked his body away from her with a forced exertion, and, as if ripping away a bandage from a throbbing wound, tore her hands away. "Stop it!" he growled. "Stop it— I said – stop it — stop — stop— STOP!"
She did not resist him. He fell silent, breathing heavily, and glaring at her with vindictive menace. Her fingers were crushed between his with terrible pressure, but she ignored the pain. She looked at him for a long moment. Then she stepped up to him quickly, closing the gap between them, pressing her body against his, and looked up into his eyes. Her lips parted in mischievous defiance, as if daring the consequences for disobeying his order. His body gave another involuntary jolt, and his fingers loosened their grip on her hands. The arrested, distrait look returned to his eyes, and he stood as if trapped inside glass; and she could see the malignant influence draining away. She stood on tiptoes again, and her lips stroked his mouth and cheeks with fluttering touches, like a butterfly performing a teasing dance against an open inferno. Then she withdrew from him, and, looking into his eyes again, uttered a tiny laugh.
He closed his eyes and swayed on his feet slightly, as if drunk with the fever, and submitted to her as she kissed him again. Then a convulsive shudder shook his frame and, as if all the muscles in his body had given in at once, he collapsed to his knees.
He lay crouched on the floor, his head clutched between his hands. Aerith dropped to the floor after him, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Cloud," she whispered. "Cloud, can you hear me?"
He was shaking his head, rocking on his knees in despair. For some moments he was silent, but then his voice floated up, choked with emotions. "I refused to kill them. I refused to kill them. He tried to make me, he wanted everyone dead, but I resisted. So he laughed and said that my use is now done, that I'm disposable because he has the other puppets to do his bidding, and that he will punish my disobedience by making me destroy myself. But I still resisted him. "
"Cloud," she said softly. "Remember what I told you. You have a strong will. You were strong enough to have him at a standstill. Most of his other puppets can't resist him."
But he shook his head in negation. "I can't do this anymore. I can't. It feels like it's going to kill me. Aerith, Aerith… I made a deal with the Devil, and the Devil is winning. You have to help me before he crushes my willpower. I don't think I'll be able to withstand it again. Please, Aerith. Please help me." His voice broke and he went silent, his head hung low, his body shivering with emotions.
"You have to keep fighting it, Cloud" she murmured. "I cannot help you if you don't fight it."
But he said nothing, and remained with his head hung low, his face hidden from view. She bit her lips. Then she lowered her face against his head, resting her cheek against his hair. "I trust you, Cloud," she whispered, her lips trembling. "You will succeed. I will do my best to assist you to destroy this curse. But… don't let it break you. Please."
The breaking note in her voice seemed to penetrate through his numb misery. He ceased to rock on his knees, and became almost still. Then, with a deliberate effort, he began to breathe deeply, as if trying to calm himself. After many moments had passed, he managed to still his shuddering. He was now conscious enough of her body against his that he could feel that she, too, was trembling. He raised his head slowly to look at her.
"Aerith," he said quietly.
Her forehead was now resting against his shoulder. She shook her head for a moment, but did not reply. It was as if their roles had suddenly reversed, and it was she who sought his reassurance and comfort. And then he understood that she mistrusted her ability to help him. But this realization was, paradoxically, a strangely calming moment for him.
"Aerith," he said, and his voice was almost steady now. "Don't… don't be sad. You tried your best. And it did help me. If it wasn't for you, he would have seized control of me without me ever knowing that it was coming, and I couldn't have resisted it. And I thank you for that, Aerith. You saved me from becoming his slave."
He now raised a hand to caress her hair, in a soothing gesture. "Aerith," he repeated. "I… I promise that I will do what I can to continue defying his will. I am sorry that I gave up. I promise you that I will never give up again. No matter what happens."
There was a long silence. She remained leaning against him, submitting to his caress, and gave a deep sigh, as if releasing a great tension. Then she spoke, her voice trembling only slightly. "Cloud… I need help. I… I was too young when my mother died. I didn't learn all that I could from her. I let my instincts guide me, but that only gets me so far. It's difficult for me to know what to do."
She finally raised her head and looked into his face fully. "My mother told me of a place called Cosmos Canyon, where they still retained the memories of some of the old teaching of the Cetra, and many ancient texts. I think that we should journey there together, and ask them if they can advise us what to do."
At this, he bit his lip and looked away. "I wish I could stay with you, Aerith, but I'm afraid of what he is going to do… what he will try to make me do to other people… and to you. He really hates you, because you are the only one who seems to have some ability to stop him. I can't journey with you. Not until I know that I am not a danger to you, or the others."
"I can still help you with everything at my disposal, if something goes wrong," she said gently, although she smiled faintly at this. He understood her meaning and colored, averting his face, as if thinking this over. But then he said, "Aerith, do you really think that you could do the same... thing... twice? Don't you think that he'll be ready for you to try this again next time, and will prepare ways to overcome it?" His face acquired a fiery glow, but he said, rather harshly, "I'm just… I'm not willing to take that risk."
She was silent for a while, then she said, "Cloud."
"Yes?"
"I had an idea recently. I don't know how well it would work, but… it may help you in the meantime."
She straightened and removed a small, shining globe from her pocket. She moved her hand to his palm, cupping the globe inside it and closing his fingers around it. It lay in his hands like a small, transparent sun, shining with a faint golden glow. "This is a special materia that my father created. Keep this with you. I will teach you a chant to use its power."
He examined it for a moment. "Is it a healing materia?" he asked.
"Something like it. I hope that it will help you resist the shadows. Now, repeat after me."
Slowly, carefully, she taught him the healing chant. He repeated it, painstakingly committing the complex song to his memory. When it seemed like he could recite the whole spell, she said, "Now, try it by yourself."
The effect was barely perceptible, but after a moment he said, "I think that it's working. My mind does feel clearer. It's not as strong as when you cast your own spell, but akin to that effect."
"You do not have the power to use it to its full and intended abilities," she said. "But you did really well, compared to others. Maybe because of your SOLDIER training. This materia is a duplicate from the structural properties of a very special materia that used to belong to my mother. My father created it, under my mother's instructions. It's a little more powerful than ordinary healing ones. If you can invoke the spell of healing every day, I think that it will sustain your efforts to resist him. But it will make you tired afterwards, so don't use it too often."
She looked into his eyes. She did not smile, but raised her fingers to his cheeks, and caressed them. "I understand that you are afraid of hurting me. But meet me at Cosmos Canyon, and after that I swear that I will not leave your side again."
He tried, but failed, to smile at her. Slowly, with great weariness, he leant forward and rested his head against her shoulder. He felt that he could not bear it if he would never see her again after this moment; and this alone, like a shining beacon, would help sustain his resolution in defying the darkness.
© Written by Hadas Rose
Final Fantasy VII is © Square, 1997.
Notes
Pretend Q& A: readers (R) with the Author (A)
R: So, uh, did Aerith just kiss Cloud out of his curse?
A: Time-tested method. See fairy tale princesses.
R: Cloud's not a princess.
A: I present to you as evidence: Wall Market. Silk dress. Lingerie. Diamond tiara.
R: Okay then, but it's not really a curse, it's more mind-control.
A: Right, and Aerith was shutting Cloud's mind off, since it's Sephiroth's center of control.
R: So, uh, are Cloud and Aerith just going to make out every time that they meet?
A: Maybe.
Also, be warned that this story will feature as much Rufus as it reasonably may.
I appreciate all my new readers. This story has been offline for many years, so it's nice to have it read again. And it seems to be popular in Indonesia!