Happy Monday! I hope you all had a good weekend :)

I'm still getting back into the swing of writing again, so I'm a little insecure about this chapter but ahhh oh well! I hope you all enjoy it :)

As always, shoutout to silver-doe287 for beta'ing this chapter :)

The birds didn't sing in Midgar.

Cissnei hadn't noticed until now, but as she leaned against the rooftops' steel railing with her gaze swept towards the limping dawn, it was all she could think about. The birds' silence swallowed her entire world, and everything sounded louder by comparison. She exhaled, and the hollow noise trembled through her.

Her phone beeped in her back pocket, and the muted sound seemed to pierce the clouds. She didn't bother checking the message — she already knew who was trying to reach her, after all. She even knew exactly what the message said.

Cissnei's lips curved in a joyless smile. What's in it for you? Zack had asked her the night before, and her response had simple:

Nothing at all, yet at the same time, everything.

She shook her head as she huffed a humorless laugh. Everything, she had told him, and she hadn't been wrong. This little rebellion of hers would cost exactly that, but she didn't regret it. She couldn't even if she had wanted to. Lifting her eyes back towards the sunrise, and letting its warmth wash across her skin, she told herself the she had joined the Turks of her own volition. Of her own volition, she had carried out her orders and had executed her tasks with pointed precision.

And now, of her own volition, she would retire from her sworn duty.

It was exhilarating. When a stale breeze brushed against her face, she found herself closing her eyes against its touch and smiling — a small, honest, real smile. It was a bit humid, and it tasted like mako and dust, but it was the freshest air she had breathed in years. When was the last time she had enjoyed something as simple as the wind? When was the last time she had rested on a rooftop and simply existed?

I've been dreaming of flying lately, she had told Zack, and seeing the stars again.

A sudden flurry of movement beside her had her opening her eyes once more, and she found herself staring eye-to-eye with a pigeon that had landed on the railing beside her. Its feathers were fluffed; its gaze was dark and soulless. It did not coo or chirp in greeting. It did not cock its head in confusion or curiosity. In fact, it did not seem aware of her presence at all. It simply stared into empty space with wings folded and beak half-open, and upon closer inspection, she noticed that its feathers were tinged green and its eyes gleamed with a dull light. Then, as if snapped out of a dumb stupor, it suddenly startled and flew off to the hazy city below.

Mako poisoning, Cissnei knew as she watched it disappear between the buildings, and her chest tightened in sympathy. Considering the sheer volume of mako fumes the reactors spit out on a daily basis, it came as no surprise that the local wildlife were displaying signs of mako addiction. The birds, who flew through the fumes, were the first to display the symptoms. Next it was the wild mice, rats, cats, and dogs, who lived among the poorly maintained mako pipes in the slums. Then came a wave of children with asthma, whose developing lungs couldn't handle the heavy mako fumes being constantly belched into the air they breathed.

Cissnei's expression dimmed. The city is dying, she knew. It was the statement that the eco-terrorists Avalanche had said time and time again, but strangely she was only really considering it now. Shinra, and by extension the Turks, had always told her that mako energy made life easier for people, and looking at the upper plates, she could almost believe it. But when she peered down at the lower plates, and the dilapidated buildings and brown, dirty roads…

Is Avalanche in the wrong? she couldn't help but wonder. Or is it us?

… Though, I guess it really doesn't matter anymore. After all, she no longer belonged to either group: not Avalanche, and after tonight, certainly not Shinra either.

It was over.

Her life as she knew it was done.

Strangely enough, she suddenly felt like she was realizing that all over again. It's over, she thought again, and something within her went brittle. She felt as if she would crack at the lightest touch; like if another breeze came through, she'd tumble off the railing like a paper airplane.

But there was no time to ponder it further, because as if on cue, she heard the dim sound of footsteps echoing behind her.

Sharp adrenaline abruptly chased away her gnawing thoughts, and cold determination replaced whatever uneasiness she felt. She recognized the footsteps' gait: long, strong, even, and judging by how their sound echoed against the concrete, the shoes had a hard sole. Leather, she recognized, then: Business shoes. That particular style wasn't uncommon on the upper plates, especially by those employed by Shinra, but in combination with the familiar strides…

Tseng, she knew, and she slowly turned around. She held her phone loosely in her hand, and on its lit screen depicted several missed calls and messages, all of them from the man standing across from her.

Be brave, she told herself. You knew this would happen.

It was strange; she had worked with Tseng her entire life, and yet the man before her might as well have been a stranger. Though his hair was slicked back into the same neat ponytail he wore daily, and though he wore his usual sharp suit, his expression might as well have been chiseled out of stone. There was no disappointment in his eyes. No malice. No regret. Not even a hint of recognition. She had been reduced to a target, a goal to achieve to meet a pending deadline. Nothing more; nothing less.

Yet despite everything, both the sunlight and her smile felt warm. "Hi, Tseng," she murmured as dawn brightened the sky. "Got your message."

"Cissnei," he greeted. He spoke to her with the same clipped, even tone he used with business associates and Avalanche spies — as expected, considering the conversation they were about to have. "Thank you for meeting me here."

"Of course," she replied, though she really hadn't had much of a choice: it was either meet him here or run away from Shinra to be hunted down like an animal, and after witnessing how Zack and Cloud had to live on the run… Well, even she couldn't keep that up forever. Turning towards the sunrise, she said, "Well, I guess this is it."

Tseng's expression seemed to darken a fraction, but it could have just been a trick of the light. "It is," he deadpanned, and then he too squinted towards the sunrise; but unlike Cissnei, his face remained impassive and blank. "You haven't been informed yet," he then said, surprising her. He spoke slowly, carefully almost, as if he was picking and choosing which words to say. "Shinra will be dropping the Sector Seven plate tonight, on orders of the President. Reno and Rude have been assigned the mission, with Elena remaining on standby."

Cissnei's eyes widened a fraction. Dropping the plate? But thousands of people would…

Just like that, her pending retirement seemed trivial. Horror flooded her system and tightened her throat, yet her voice managed to sound even as she said, "Sir, why are you telling me this? I'm not a… a Turk anymore."

"That's right," Tseng coolly replied. "You're not."

Cissnei did her best not to flinch at his cold tone.

Tseng continued, "You no longer have an opinion when it comes to Turk matters and Turk missions. Due to your previous actions, you are henceforth removed from Shinra's roster. From this moment on, nothing that occurs in Midgar or otherwise will have anything to do with you. Do you understand?"

Cissnei opened her mouth to speak, but her voice caught. Everything Tseng said is the truth, she reminded herself. I deserve this.

"I understand," she found herself saying.

"You have revealed confidential information to those outside of Shinra's jurisdiction. You have disobeyed direct orders, actively worked against the betterment of the company and of the city, and betrayed your own team. You have also knowingly aided the Specimens' escape —"

"Their names are Zack and Cloud."

"— and now you will be permanently removed from service," Tseng finished, ignoring her. "Your name will be struck from the records, your identity will be erased, and you will be forgotten from history. Do you understand what that means?"

She did.

It meant that she was going to die.

But she had prepared herself for this; she came here knowing just how Turks were removed from service, but to have it all so neatly laid out before her tugged some deep emotion within her, some feeling that she struggled to identify. It wasn't loss. It wasn't regret, either. It was something more, something far more vague — like a clawed hand wrapped around her lungs, squeezing and bruising all the while, making it difficult to breathe or swallow.

I'll miss it, she suddenly realized. I'll miss everyone in HQ. Reno's lighthearted texts that always lifted her mood, Rude's matter-of-fact personality that bolstered her own, and even Elena's clumsy way of trying to make friends with everyone…

She would miss them. She would miss all of them… but she hadn't even said goodbye. Strangely enough, that was what jostled her. Not her retirement, not her death, not even the impending plate drop that no longer had anything to do with her, but the fact that she already missed everyone.

But Tseng wasn't done. "Your personal effects will be destroyed and your information will be wiped," he told her. "Your phone, your computer, your apartment… Everything will be taken away. Your name will never be spoken of within Shinra or any other establishment from this moment on. Do you understand?"

"I…" Cissnei then hesitated, a faint inhale that Tseng narrowed his eyes at, but there was only one thing she could say. "…I understand."

"Good." Tseng's voice was clipped and matter-of-fact, which was nothing less of what she had been expecting. But then he surprised her; he turned to the rising sun and sighed, an exhausted sound that had her blinking. "Cissnei, why the hell," he slowly enunciated, "did you meet me here?"

Cissnei straightened, caught off guard. "Why did I…"

"I told you to meet me here hours ago," Tseng interrupted, but there was no venom in his voice. He only sounded tired, and she suddenly noticed the bags underneath his eyes, the wane pallor of his skin. "I made sure that it was during a guard shift change, that your motorbike had a full tank, and that it contained everything you would need to change your identity." Turning his steely gaze towards her, he continued, "You could have been halfway to Junon by now."

Could have been halfway… she thought, and then her eyes flew wide. He's trying to save me. The realization dawned on her slowly, much like the sunrise spilling across the wastes behind her, illuminating the shadowed canyons and crevices. He probably spent the entire night trying to figure out how to save me… but that doesn't make any sense. Why would he…

"Tseng… why?" she managed.

Tseng's lips parted, and for a moment it seemed like he'd give her an answer… but then he shook his head, resigning himself. The color in his cheeks faded; his hands unclenched. The emotion fell from his expression like water running down stone, and he said in that clipped, professional tone of his, "It doesn't matter anymore. You made your decision —" he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pistol— "and now I'm left with none."

His words cut her to the bone, and she knew: This is happening. Her expression dimmed. Goodbye, halcyon days.

With the sun warming her back, her shadow stretched long and spindly before her. A second pigeon cooed from the railing before going silent.

"Do you remember how you got the name, Cissnei?" Tseng suddenly asked.

Cissnei blinked, unsure what to make of the sudden shift in conversation. "I chose it," she eventually answered, "right after I joined the Turks. I was four years old."

"That's right," Tseng replied, and then leveled his gun at her. It was then that Cissnei noticed the gun wasn't a standard Shinra-issued model; that it was equipped with a silencer, and that its magazine was oddly shaped for standard 9mm bullets. He finished, "Time for you to choose another."

Cissnei's brows furrowed. "Choose anoth —"

Tseng pulled the trigger.

A loud bang interrupted her; a white flash erupted from the barrel. The pigeons that had been sitting on the railing flew away in a panic.

And then the world went silent.

It was a quiet morning in Sector Seven. Artificial sunlight spilled through the apartment window, dripped down the sill like honey, and pooled onto a bed clearly not made for two grown adults. Tangled bedsheets slumped onto the floor. Blond and black hair entwined together on a shared pillow. Arms were thrown haphazardly over one another, and their synchronized breathing murmured a soft lullaby to the twilit morning already filled with a humming generator; an orchestra of crickets; a hushed conversation from somewhere outside.

Cloud blinked opened his eyes.

At first, the world was blurred by sleep, but then awareness slowly filtered into his foggy consciousness. He vaguely knew that he felt better than he had in a long time; exhaustion no longer plagued him, his chest was no longer tight, and he felt warmer and safer than he had in… well, years. He found himself wondering if there was any pizza left at Seventh Heaven.

As he continued to wake up, other sensations slowly filtered into his awareness: the mattress was soft beneath him; there was something warm pressed against him; someone else's arm was draped over his side. He shifted slightly and heard a faint noise of complaint hum into the crook of his neck. His brow pinched in confusion… but then his eyes flew wide as everything — everything — came rushing back in stunning clarity.

Tifa.

Wide-eyed, he lowered his gaze. Black hair fanned his pillow and curled around his left arm, which was neatly tucked beneath Tifa's head. She had been using it as a pillow in her sleep; her dark eyelashes fluttered in her dreams, and her light breathing tickled his skin. Her cheek pressed hot against the crook of his neck.

Something in his brain faltered, just two gears grinding uselessly together. Him, Cloud Strife, local town screw-up, lying in Tifa Lockhart's apartment? Sleeping on her bed? Lying beside her?

Holy. Shit.

Cloud's heart simultaneously jumped into his throat and plummeted downward. He went perfectly still, more statue that man. Various scenarios flipped through his mind with stunning speed and varying accuracy. Just lying here with her soft breathing pillowing his neck was akin to torture, but at the same time, getting up — and potentially waking her up — was unthinkable. And what if she woke up? What then? What would happen after that?

Cloud had no idea, which terrified him. He didn't even know what was the right thing to say in this situation — Good morning? How did you sleep? Let's do this again sometime? — so he instead tried to commit the moment to memory. How the sunlight filtered through the window, how it warmed the bedsheets, how it spilled over Tifa's peacefully sleeping form… he wanted — no, needed — to remember it all.

He was happy.

His eyes widened even as they pricked with warmth. Happiness. That was the emotion bubbling up within him; that was the emotion eating him alive. He had the sudden acute realization that this was it — this is what he had spent his entire looking for. All this time, he had always been searching for more: being cooler than all of the other Nibelheim boys; being the best First-Class SOLDIER; being better than Sephiroth; being a hero that the entire world respected. But what was all of that compared to the woman beside him? What could he possibly find in all of that, that he wouldn't be able to find right here?

Nothing.

And yet, Cloud was suddenly quietly, desperately afraid. His hands went clammy; his breathing went shallow. With his eyes pinned to the top of Tifa's head, he found himself wondering: What if something happens, and I lose everything again?

He didn't think he would be able to bear it. No; he knew that he wouldn't be able to, and his breath stuttered in his chest as the realization sunk in. He suddenly, desperately wanted to hold her. To hug her tightly against him and never let go. To —

But then Tifa made a faint noise before blinking open her eyes, and Cloud thoughts held his breath as she stared blearily at his shirt. Hew brows screwed in confusion as she dragged her gaze upward to his shoulder, then the hem of collar, and then eventually his face, her face flushed and eyes wide. Her lips lightly parted as she struggled to think of something to say.

"Good morning," he murmured. His voice was rough from sleep, and he was fairly certain that he was staring.

Tifa managed a small smile. "M — Morning," she said as she slipped a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her voice was tight, stained almost, and a little husky from just waking up. He had never heard her voice sound like that, and he was suddenly obsessed with it. He wanted to hear it again.

"Sleep well?" he found himself asking.

Her dry chuckle sent sparks dancing across his skin. "Like a rock. You?"

"Same." In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he had slept so hard, so dreamlessly.… Except, he actually could, and his lips quirked into a small smile as he added, "I slept like I was in a mako coma."

Tifa snorted, only for her expression to immediately shift from amusement to horror. "Sorry, I shouldn't have laughed. That's not funny."

His smile widened a fraction. "C'mon, it was a little funny."

She pursed her lips at him, gauging whether or not he was serious, before shaking her head and smiling. "Okay," she admitted. "Maybe it was a little funny."

Cloud thought he had been happy a moment ago, but that had been nothing compared to the emotion busting within him now. His eyes filled with light, such beautiful light because she laughed; and not just laugh, but she had laughed at something he said. Her laugh was far warmer than the sunlight spilling in from the window, far more welcome than a warm fire tucked away from the rain, far more beautiful than a violin straining against the stars. He found himself grinning a stupid grin as he followed Tifa out of bed to get ready for the day.

He was happy, but it went deeper than that.

He was home.

There truly was no sound sweeter than bacon frying in its own grease. It sizzled on the pan and, combined with a cup of freshly roasted coffee and freshly made pancakes dripping with syrup, the bar was filled with the scent of a lazy morning. Accompanied the warm breakfast scents was an acoustic melody strumming through the radio, the steady murmur of an air purifier, and Aerith humming away as she poured more flour into the pancake batter…

Simply put, Zack suspected that he officially made it in life. Being a First Class SOLDIER was great and all, but having a late breakfast of pancakes and bacon with Aerith?

"You're smiling," Aerith told him.

"Hell yeah I am," Zack promptly replied. In the lab he had dreamed of eating bacon in the morning, had fantasized about stacks of pancakes piled high with cream, syrup, strawberries, blueberries, powdered sugar, the works. But what was happening right here, in the Seventh Heaven kitchen, with the present company? His constant grin was starting to make his cheeks hurt, but Aerith pointing it out only made his smile broaden further. He simply couldn't help it. He couldn't stop even if he tried. Turning towards her, he pointed out, "And you're smiling too."

Aerith cracked an egg into the bowl. "Well, right now there's a lot to smile about," she said simply. "We slept in, it's a beautiful day, and now we're making breakfast. We're not in Wall Market or in a haunted train yard." She paused, then: "And we're also not wandering around in some gross sewer system."

"And your mom isn't going to kill me," Zack cheerfully added.

It was true. Aerith had called her mother first thing in the morning to let her know that she was okay, and though Elmyra was furious — and rightfully so, as she had been worried sick all night — Aerith calmed her with stunning efficiency. By avoiding some certain truths and less-than-ideal situations, she might have even convinced her mother that spending the night at a friend's apartment had been the best decision at the time. Granted, even though Elmyra had been somewhat placated, Zack was still convinced that she blamed him for everything. But hey — that was a big step up from wanting him dead.

Aerith giggled. "No, I guess you're safe for now," she agreed as she poured more batter onto the hot pan. "But changing the subject, I'm impressed that you know how to use a stove. Or a pan and spatula, for that matter," she added as she eyed the way he flipped the bacon.

Zack let out a satisfied sigh at the way the bacon sizzled. "Hey, it hasn't been that long since I cooked in a kitchen. And besides, SOLDIER teaches you these types of things. I had to take a whole home ed course — elective, of course, and I only took it because they promised food every class." Turning to flip the fresh pancake, he continued, "And besides, a stove isn't that hard to use. You just flick on the gas, and whoosh — a nice, even heat. It's way easier than out in the middle of nowhere, where you have to find all the firewood first."

"I guess," Aerith frowned. "Did you have to rub two sticks together, or use a flint stone?"

"At first I just used two sticks, but then later I found a fire materia." Zack's mako-stained gaze brightened at the memory. "I was lucky enough to run into a materia fountain when Cloud and I were passing through the Corel mountains. Lemme tell you, the fire materia made my life a helluva lot easier… until I lost it."

Aerith shot him an incredulous look. "You lost it?"

"Yeah, in Junon. Didn't realize my pocket had a hole in it, but thankfully," he continued as he deftly slid a fresh pancake onto a plate, "I was at least on the right continent by that point, so it wasn't too bad."

He had meant for it to sound light hearted, but something inside him ached as a series of memories flickered through his mind: stowing away on a supply ship, hiding Cloud beneath one of the containers when he went to find food, the way the lights flickered with every rolling wave. His breath tightened just remembering the tight quarters, the scent of mildew, the shaky darkness… the constant burbling that reminded him of mako bubbling through pipes.

It had been a long, long trip to Junon.

"But anyway," he forced himself to continue, "it doesn't really matter anymore, since I made it here and all." He made a move to pour more batter onto the hot pan, but Aerith's hand suddenly rested on his. Their skin hardly touched; electricity danced between their fingers.

"I know I keep saying this, but…" Aerith's hand squeezed his. "Thank you for coming back."

Though her voice was nearly a whisper, and the acoustic strumming through the radio nearly swallowed it, her soft tone deafened him. His eyes pricked, but he quickly turned away to hide it. Rubbing the back of his neck, he managed, "Of course. Anytime."

Aerith's hand slid off of his, and he flipped the pancake in silence. He could feel her stare boring into the back of his neck.

"Er…" He glanced towards her, one eyebrow raised in question. "What's up?"

Aerith flushed. "Well, um…"

"Is something wrong?"

"No! No, nothing's wrong," Aerith replied, far too quickly, and Zack's eyebrow lifted further. "It's just… Um, well, not to change the subject or anything, but…" She tapped the toe of her boot on the ground and dropped her gaze to the ground. "Well… about last night…"

She flicked her gaze to his, gauging his reaction, blushing furiously all the while. She wasn't the only one.

Zack reached for the syrup, realized he didn't actually need the syrup, and tried to grab the spatula instead — anything to keep himself distracted. Coughing lightly, he said, "What, uh, about last night?"

Aerith's emerald gaze dropped back towards the ground, and her hands wrung nervously. "Well, you know…"

"What happened last night?" Tifa suddenly asked.

Zack whirled so fast that he thought he pulled something in his neck. "Nothing! Tifa! Cloud! Hello! Hi! We made, uh, pancakes!" He scrambled for the plate and held it up as proof, and nearly knocked over a bag of powdered sugar in the process. Aerith was facing the wall, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. "Behold!"

Tifa's eyes narrowed. "What were you guys —"

"Holy shit, pancakes?" Cloud interrupted. His stared wide-eyed into the kitchen, and his gaze zeroed in on the bacon. "And is that bacon? You guys made bacon?"

There was a light in his eyes that Zack hadn't seen in years, and his cheeks had more color in them than Zack had seen in forever. In fact, Cloud actually looked like Cloud, which had Zack's earlier grin returning full force.

"Hell yeah." Zack grabbed him a spare plate, and in his excitement, nearly cracked it. "You want some?"

Cloud's reply was an immediate and emphatic, "Hell yes," and he moved to join Zack and Aerith behind the counter — but halfway there, he suddenly paused. "Tifa," he asked, glancing over his shoulder, "you, ah, want a plate?"

Tifa smiled at him. "Sure," she said as she took a seat at the bar counter, and Zack knew he wasn't imagining her light blush.

Zack's smile broadened, and he gently elbowed Cloud when the other man made his way behind the counter. "You dog," he whispered under his breath. "How was your night?"

And Cloud, to Zack's endless amusement, flushed a brilliant shade. "None of your business."

Zack nearly cackled.

"Cloud," Tifa suddenly asked, "would you mind getting the orange juice out of the fridge too?" There was something else in her tone too; clearly, she hadn't missed Zack's less-than-subtle elbow jab. "And maybe some forks and knives?"

"One step ahead of you," Aerith cut in, and placed the aforementioned items on the counter. Napkins, syrup, powdered sugar, and various jams quickly followed. "And also, sorry for going through all your stuff," she told Tifa as she began pouring juice. "One of your friends — Biggs, I think? — showed us where the pancake mix was and, well…" Laughing a bit, she admitted, "I think we got a little carried away."

"But only a little," Zack grinned over his shoulder.

Tifa, to Zack's relief, laughed. "Don't even worry about it," she said, and her statement was punctuated by Cloud setting two plates of pancakes and bacon on the counter. "After yesterday," she continued as she reached for the cutlery, "we've more than earned a good breakfast."

"Hell yes," agreed Zack as he wrangled yet another pancake onto his heaping plate.

"And speaking of Biggs…" Tifa glanced around the bar, lightly frowning. "Usually he gets here pretty early, but I don't see him around. Or Jessie or Barret, for that matter."

"Oh, they're just in the basement discussing something," Aerith lightly replied. "Avalanche stuff, probably."

Tifa's brows pinched together. "Discussing something?"

"Yeah," Zack cut in, "but whatever it is, they're being all secretive about it." With that he sat beside Cloud at the counter and dumped a generous amount of syrup on his pancakes, which was quickly followed by a dollop of whipped cream and jam. Aerith wrinkled her nose at the concoction. "Maybe," he added as he cut a bite out with his fork, "they're gonna blow up something else."

Tifa shifted her weight on her seat, uncomfortable. She said, "It could just be a regular logistics meeting."

"Could be," Zack evenly replied, though he doubted it. If Avalanche was insane enough to blow up a reactor in Shinra's home turf, then they sure as hell wouldn't be discussing logistics just a few short days after. But he kept his mouth shut about it — he didn't want to ruin a good breakfast, after all.

Aerith suddenly set her fork down. "How are the pancakes?" she asked, looking towards Tifa and Cloud. "Everything taste okay?"

"So good," Cloud replied in between bites. Apparently, his new-found health also came with an appetite, which Zack was relieved to see. Granted, he only ate some soup, a few granola bars, and a couple slices of pizza yesterday, which wasn't nearly enough.

Maybe I should start carrying snacks with me, just to make sure he gets enough, Zack thought as he took another syrup-drowned bite of his pancakes. With his mako-poisoning, he's gonna have to eat to keep up his strength and recover. Though I guess we're off to a good start today…

"— ack. Hello, Gaia to Zack? You there?"

Zack blinked, startled out of his thoughts, only to find Aerith staring at him. "Uh, sorry," he managed, setting down his fork. "Zoned out. What'd you say?"

"I was wondering what our plan was for today," Aerith repeated, grinning at him. "After breakfast."

"Oh. Um…" Truth be told, he hadn't thought ahead that far. "Uh… take you home, I guess?" Aerith's grin faltered; apparently, that wasn't the answer she had been hoping to hear, so he tried again. "And… And didn't I promise that I'd build you a cart forever ago?"

Aerith's smile returned, which gave Zack the sense that he was on the right track. "I think I remember something like that," she replied.

Zack mirrored her grin. "Then it's a plan. We'll go to your house, reassure your mother that you're alive and well, and then head to the church. And you guys come too," he added, noticing that Cloud was now staring at his plate instead of eating. "Cloud, I still need to show you the church."

Cloud glanced up, his eyes brightening. "Church?" he echoed.

Zack nodded. "Yeah, the church. It's abandoned, and has a hole in the ceiling I made a while back." Glancing at Tifa, he added, "Lots of flowers, too."

"Flowers would be nice," Tifa admitted.

"And then while the boys build the cart," Aerith interjected, excitedly clapping her hands together, "we can pick flowers for the orphanage! I have to deliver a bunch within the next few days, so if you help me, it'll go twice as fast. And then we can have dinner at my house afterward! Tifa, you have to try my mom's cooking."

Tifa smiled, but it was shadowed somehow — a sun being eclipsed by the moon. "Sure thing," she replied, and then glanced towards the ping-pong machine in the corner of the bar. For a moment Zack thought that she'd comment on it, but she only shook her head and took another bite of her pancakes.

With that, the conversation steered towards carefree things: Aerith talked about the plants she grew, Tifa told her about various recipes that they could make with said plants, Zack gave his opinion on the various recipes, and Cloud seemed content to listen. The conversation pointedly avoided the events of the day before, namely Cissnei's revelations, though Zack found his mind wandering there in the quiet moments between stories.

To assassinate President Shinra… It was too surreal, too impossible an ask. He was having trouble wrapping his mind around it, and yet he couldn't help but wonder… what if? What if he killed President Shinra? Would that make the world better? Safer? Possibly… but then what? What would happen after Rufus Shinra took over? Zack didn't know the Shinra heir very well, and what if he was just as bad, or worse even? When then? Would Tseng order Zack to assassinate him too?

And why would I even want to follow Tseng's orders? Zack asked himself, and his grip tightened around his fork. He was willing to give up Cloud so that I could get to the President. If I failed somehow, that would put us in a bad place. But if I outright refused to do it…

His expression darkened as he recalled his year on the run. Granted, it would be easier now that Cloud was awake and coherent, but easier certainly didn't mean easy.

But if I actually left…

Yet just as the thought crossed his mind, Aerith's laugh bubbled across his consciousness, and he turned towards it like a lost ship turning towards a lighthouse. He rested a cheek on his closed fist.

… I can't leave, he knew. It wasn't a sudden realization; in fact, he'd known it this entire time. It felt more like waking up from a dream. The nightmare — leaving in the dead of night, running from town to town, living day by day, constantly watching his back — still flickered behind his eyes, but then Aerith giggled at something else Tifa said, and the images faded into the back of his mind. He smelled the pancakes and bacon; he heard the conversation and laughter.

… I can't leave, he thought again, and knew it as fact.

"Hey, Zack."

Cloud's soft voice tugged Zack out of his thoughts, and he turned, fumbling for a smile. "Uh, yeah? What's up, Cloudy?" Then, noticing Cloud's concerned expression, added, "You feeling okay?"

Cloud's lips pitched in a frown, and Zack mentally kicked himself. He had forgotten that he wasn't supposed to ask Cloud if he was okay or not. Or something like that, anyway. No more mothering, Aerith had told him, though she had said it in far more words. Right.

"I'm good," Cloud replied. "But are you good? You were kind of… I don't know." He shrugged helplessly. "Not here, I guess."

Zack blinked. Not here? Well he was certainly zoned out, but for Cloud of all people to point it out, let alone get worried… it was almost enough to make him laugh, but all he could manage was a wane grin. "Yeah, I'm good. Sorry about that. I was, uh, thinking about last night, and I guess I zoned out for a second there."

"Thinking about what your friend Cissnei said?" Cloud ventured.

Zack suppressed a wince — was it really that obvious? "Uh, something like that." He was tempted to lie about it, but figured that it wouldn't be any use. "But don't worry," he added. "I'll figure it out."

"We'll figure it out," Aerith corrected, and at his surprised glance, grinned at him. "You didn't think that we'd let you work through it on your own, did you?"

Zack's expression softened. "Guess not."

There was a soft clatter as Tifa wordlessly set down her fork.

"But don't worry about it, really," Zack continued. "There's honestly nothing to work through. Obviously," he added, leaning back in his chair, "I'm not going to… well, you know, off President Shinra just because one guy asked me to."

"When you put it like that," Tifa said with a meager smile, "the entire situation sounds…"

"Simple," Aerith helpfully interjected.

Tifa shot the other woman a grateful look. "Exactly."

Without warning, the pinball machine nestled in the corner of the bar began to rattle violently. Zack stared wide-eyed as it descended into the basement, and it wasn't long before Barret, Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge joined everyone in the main bar, one at a time.

I have to ride that one day, Zack thought as he turned his gaze to Barret. Barret, who was standing in the middle of the room, raked his eyes over their group before resting on Tifa. His expression was unreadable, as was hers.

Except… no, it wasn't. Her emotions were closed off, but not all the way. Zack could see guilt brighten her carmen eyes, and buried beneath that guilt, something like a plea — an apology maybe, or just a silent ask for Barret to understand.

"You guys heading out?" Tifa asked, and her lighthearted tone sounded forced.

Barret's frown deepened. "Something like that," he replied doggedly before glancing at Cloud, which had Zack bristling. But then he surprised Zack by saying, "I owe you an, well, an apology."

Barret sounded like he was choking on every word, and surprise flickered across Cloud's face. "An apology?" he echoed. "Why?"

"Why?" Barret rubbed the back of his neck and moved to take a step forward, but seemed to think better of it when Zack gripped his fork tighter and shot him a warning look. Choosing instead to stand in place, he ground out, "If I had known of your, ah, condition, then I woulda never asked ya to join us a few days ago. Don't get me wrong," he quickly added when Cloud's gaze darkened a fraction. "You were a big help. Couldn't have done it without ya and all. But I just want you to understand that… Well, I…"

"You can do it, boss!" Jessie murmured in a stage-whisper.

Barret's cheeks went pink. "I just… Goddamn it, I just don't want you to think I tried to take advantage of you, or whatever. And that goes for you, too," he said in Tifa's direction. "You trusted me to take care of your childhood friend, and I let you down."

Tifa wrung her hands on her lap. "Barret, I…"

"No! Don't say a word." Shifting his weight awkwardly, he managed to stumble out, "Look. I hate these sort of speeches, and I ain't gonna repeat it. But I meant every word, got it?"

From Barret, it almost sounded like a threat, but Tifa only smiled. "Got it," she replied, and then turned to Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge, who were standing behind Barret with varying looks of pride. "Are you guys going somewhere?"

Jessie and Biggs shared a brief look. "Oh, something like that," Jessie replied, turning back to Tifa. "You know — just need to run a few errands. I used up a lot of my supplies in the last mission, so I need to stock up."

"I'm in the same boat," Biggs said. "Just need to buy a few things is all."

"And I gotta buy cat food." Wedge's tone was carefree, though at Cloud's look, he quickly added, "Not for me! For my cats, weirdo."

Cloud sniffed. "I knew that."

"And then what?" Zack leaned back in his chair, one arm draped over its back. The pancakes suddenly tasted like ash, because cat food aside, if members of Avalanche — an eco-terrorist group, he reminded himself — were restocking their supplies, then that meant… "With all those new supplies," he said slowly, "are you planning on blowing up another reactor or something?"

Barret's characteristic scowl returned as he turned back to Zack. "That's Avalanche business."

Which means that they definitely are, Zack immediately knew and something within him turned to ice — More people are going to get hurt — as he leaned back in his chair. His expression was carved out of stone as he said, "Whatever." His tone was frosty. "Don't get anyone killed, now." Aerith wordlessly placed her hand over Zack's, which was balled into a fist on his lap. The small gesture smoothed his frayed edges, and without glancing her way, he gently flipped his hand over and entwined his fingers with hers. A faint exhale shuddered out of him when she squeezed.

Barret's expression darkened further. The rest of his team only shifted awkwardly behind him; Wedge in particular looked guilty, and he pointedly avoided looking at Cloud as Barret stepped forward, fuming. "No one's gettin' hurt," Barret practically spit out. "Not us, and none of city folk either. It'll just be in-and-out."

"Yeah, because that really worked out last time," Zack deadpanned, "but whatever. Do what you want. Just don't forget that Shinra has your photo, and that you have a young daughter at home."

At the mention of Marlene, a dark light flashed in Barret's eyes. "Don't you dare," he snapped, taking another step forward, "drag my daughter into this."

Zack coolly lifted his gaze. Every muscle bristled with unsung tension. "Don't have to," he replied simply. "You already have."

Cloud ducked his head; Tifa only looked horrified. "Zack," she murmured.

Barret's lips pulled back in a snarl and he took a step forward, but a hand on his arm — Biggs' hand, Zack realized a half-second later — stopped him halfway. "Let's just go," Biggs murmured. "Remember, we got a job to do."

Barret pulled his arm away. "I'm doin' all of this for Marlene's future," he snapped. "This is all for her."

"Yeah, it's time to go," Jessie said. Her arms wrapped around Barret's prosthetic gun and she tried to guide him towards the door, which more-or-less worked. Giving the other party a half-hearted wave, she finished, "See you later, guys."

"Where is Marlene, anyway?" Tifa asked as Wedge followed his team out of the bar. "Is she here?"

Wedge shook his head as he passed; outside, Barret's muffled curses echoed down the dusty streets. "No, at the Leaf House," he replied as he hurried towards the door. "So don't worry — she's safe."

Tifa's chair clattered behind her as she stood up, her gaze pinned on their departing backs. "And you're really going to blow up a reactor now, in broad daylight?"

Wedge grinned at her. "I'll tell you all about it later," he replied. "Shinra won't even know what hit them."

And with that, he closed the door behind them.

Zack's fork clattered onto his plate. "Probably because not even Shinra could predict a move that stupid," he muttered under his breath. Fire rolled beneath his skin and sparked against his veins, and he rubbed his temples with his fingers to stave off an incoming headache. Like last night, he suddenly wanted to scream, to run, to blow something up, or some combination of the three. Pent-up energy swarmed within him like wasps.

Aerith started at him. Earlier she had looked supremely satisfied at Barret's apology, but now she only looked at Zack with her eyebrows furrowed in confused. Her breakfast sat forgotten in front of her. Finally, she asked, "Want to stop them?"

The wasps stung. "Yes," Zack immediately replied, but then immediately thought better when he realized: If he got involved, then that was just another chance for Shinra to capture Cloud. Yesterday Cissnei had told him that Shinra had both of their photos and that Tseng had basically given up on protecting Cloud due to the bounty on his head, and that meant that if Zack went out there to make Avalanche back down — which would undoubtedly cause a commotion, considering Barret's personality — then he might as well waltz up to Shinra's front door and deliver Cloud himself.

Not happening, Zack thought, clenching his jaw. Even the mere thought of Cloud being near Shinra HQ made his stomach curl. No; he couldn't risk them being recaptured, no matter what was at stake.

Zack dragged a hand through his hair, hissing his frustration, before turning towards the closed door. A woman in an oversized moogle costume walked past the window, and his gaze followed her until she disappeared around the corner. Finally, he sighed and turning back to the group, said, "No, let's just leave them be." It was almost physically painful to say those words out loud, but now that they were in the open, he almost couldn't stop talking. Venom was suddenly coursing through his veins and splashing against his nerves. "I mean, Avalanche can do whatever the hell they want, whenever they want. Like, they want to blow up a reactor? Fine. They want to go on a crazy mission just to make Shinra's life hell? Have fun. But at least," he said, glaring down at his plate, "have some common sense if you're gonna do it. I mean," he added with a helpless shake of his head, "he has a damn kid."

Silence, punctuated only by the roaring in Zack's ears, filled the room.

Tifa wordlessly began collecting the plates. Clearly, their nice breakfast was over. "He means well," she relented as she began stacking the cups. "He really does believe that he's saving the Planet, and he really does care about his daughter. We all do," she added after a moment's pause.

"Meaning well and believing in yourself don't matter if you can't deliver," Zack stated. "No matter how good your intentions may be, you can end up doing way more bad than good anyway."

Cloud blinked at him. "You think so?"

"I know so," Zack replied without hesitation. He recalled the Nibelheim incident — watching the homes burn, seeing sparks soar towards a smoke-choked sky, hearing the harsh sound of Sephiroth ripping Jenova out of her cell — and suppressed a shudder. "Why?" he asked, glancing at Cloud. "You don't think so?"

"No, I do, but it's just…" Cloud paused as he fumbled for the right words, then shook his head. "I'm just surprised you think that," he said simply. "That's all."

Zack propped his chin on his hand. "Yeah?"

"I guess, yeah. But I guess," Cloud continued in a softer voice, "a lot has happened, so… it makes sense."

Zack's expression dimmed. "Yeah, that may be it." And then, because he felt like he was letting Cloud down somehow: "Sorry, buddy. Didn't mean to ruin breakfast."

"Please, you'd have to do more than that to ruin breakfast," Aerith said from behind the counter. Zack blinked; he hadn't even noticed her getting up. She was now helping wash the dishes; suds covered her hands and splashed into the sink, which was full of their empty dishes. "We should do this tomorrow, too. Ooh — how about a picnic?" Grinning at Tifa, she said, "How does that sound? Are you free? Do you have to work the bar?"

Tifa wanly smiled. "I'm bartending tomorrow night, but… maybe in the morning? That bar's pretty quiet then, and Biggs can take over for me. Unless…"

When her voice trailed off, Cloud said, "He'll be fine." Joining them behind the counter, he continued, "I saw him fight on our mission a few days ago, and he's pretty strong. He'll be fine," he repeated, and Tifa shot him a grateful look. "So no need to worry."

Tifa handed him a plate to dry. "If you say so."

Zack watched them work for a moment, then sighed and got to his feet. I should probably help, he told himself, but without warning, his PHS — the one Cissnei has grabbed for him — suddenly beeped in his back pocket.

Aerith, who had just cleaned off the pan, glanced over her shoulder towards him. Her eyes blazed with excitement. "Was that your phone?"

"Y - Yeah." Zack was just as confused as her; sure, he charged it last night, but it shouldn't be able to receive any messages. Worse, who would even message him? Cissnei had promised that the phone was off-grid; totally untraceable, untrackable, etcetera.

So maybe Cissnei? he thought as he flipped open the phone. Maybe she…

"Who is it?" Cloud asked.

Tifa's lips were pursed. "Cissnei?" she guessed.

Zack's expression skewed, perplexed. "It doesn't say anything," he finally said. "It's just blank, and the sender is from someone called nobody?"

Aerith gave up cleaning the dishes and moved towards his side; this was for more exciting after all, and she stood on her tiptoes to read over his shoulder. "You mean like an anonymous caller or something?"

"Something like that," Zack said, tilting the screen towards her. "Their name is literally Nobody."

Aerith frowned. "'Nobody'?" she read, then shot him a look. "That's… ominous. Think it's from Tseng?"

"Not even Tseng would be that weird," Zack muttered, but then the phone beeped again as a new message came through. This time, it wasn't just a blank text, and its contents had Zack going cold.

Hi, Zack.

Shinra is dropping the Sector Seven plate tonight.

Time unknown.

More details pending.

Thanks for everything.

- Nobody

I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! I wanted to give the gang a little bit of a happy break before we start really working out way towards the end. As for Cissnei... :)

Anyway, feel free to follow my twitter for chapter previews and updates - everything is posted there first! Links to my Ko-Fi page can also be found there if you'd like to support my writing, but there's absolutely no pressure to do so - if you're enjoying the story, then I'm happy :)

Until next time, I wish you all nothing but the best :)