Chapter Five

Fractured

Cloud pulls up to the abandoned stretch of highway outside of Sector Two proper a little past eleven AM the next morning, the sun so bright in the sky that he's pulled his shades on to shield his eyes from its brightness. It's a crisp late September day, but he enjoys the breeze, and so his windows are rolled down, the wind blowing in and his music flowing out.

He finds Zack leaned against his silver sedan on the side of the road, holding what appears to be a large, steel-edge broad sword in hand. The sword is almost half as tall as Zack is, and he's turning it over by its hilt in the sun, its rays glittering across the blade.

Cloud rides his car up along the edge of the highway, right behind Zack, putting the vehicle into park. Zack turns to him from where he stands, tossing one hand at him in a mock salute as he greets him. Cloud only nods his greeting from where he sits behind the wheel, listening to the engine snap off.

It's Tuesday, less than a day since Cloud last saw Tifa Lockhart, dropping her off at her mansion in Sector Seven, her father's newest assignment for him. He's already over it, especially after the way his interactions with Tifa were spun throughout the entire afternoon, their back and forth that had the interior cabin of his car so filled with tension it was enough to choke him.

He's been doing his best to avoid thinking about her, but it's near impossible. He's been trying since the moment he dropped her off at her house the night after they'd danced and kissed at Seventh Heaven, but she's interwoven in his thoughts as if she's built into the fibers of his brain matter, distracting him to the point of lunacy. The only thing that keeps his mind off of her and her curvaceous body is the road, and Cloud asked Zack to meet him out here this morning for a quick race to clear his head.

"Hey, bud," Zack greets him as he climbs out of the car and heads into his direction.

The breeze is brisk today, and Cloud feels the chill. Tifa still has his jacket, and so he's wearing only a hoodie over his tee shirt, the wind nipping straight through to his skin. He tries not to think too much about the fact that he insisted she keep it, the fact that she could be wearing it at this very moment, or the fact that they had crossed each other like children in the front seat of his car.

He also tries not to think about the way that she stretched her body in front of him in that dojo yesterday, only a thin wall of glass separating them. Anybody could tell from a passing glance that Tifa was in great shape, but seeing her move through those yoga poses, her body pulled taut in that tight spandex -

"What's up, man?"

Zack twirls the sword again and cocks an eyebrow at Cloud as he approaches. Cloud stops and drops his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, coming to a stop in front of his best friend.

"Thanks for meeting me here," he says a bit sheepishly. "What's with the sword?"

Zack grins, chucking his head to one side. Zack and Cloud have been friends ever since Cloud started to work for Lockhart about five years ago. Zack was bright eyed and enthusiastic and has been involved in the underworld since before Cloud had met him one afternoon when he'd picked him up from a drug sale in a dark and seedy alley in the center of Wall Market five years back.

While Cloud was quiet and disinterested, Zack had somehow coerced him into a friendship that very night that persisted to this day.

"Recommendation from Biggs," Zack says with a grin now stretching his face. "Wouldn't kill you to see about getting one for yourself, I'm sure he'll hook you up. And don't worry about it, man. I figure after the weekend we had, you'd need to blow off some steam at some point."

Zack tosses Cloud a knowing glance, bouncing his keys up and down in his palm. Cloud tries not to sigh in aggravation at this, but the glint of turquoise in Zack's eyes tells him exactly where this is going. He rolls his eyes to the side, but Zack is already disposed for the kill.

"Have you spoken to her since then?" Zack asks straightforwardly.

Cloud turns back to him. He already knows that Zack is referring to Tifa, but he feigns ignorance.

"What are you talking about?"

Zack rolls his eyes so hard they nearly pop out, and then he laughs almost ruefully, shaking his head. "Don't be an idiot," he chides. "Tifa. Have you talked to Tifa since the night at the club?"

Cloud doesn't answer, keeping his eyes averted. He's still thinking about Tifa sitting next to him in the passenger seat of his car, that pouty, angry look on her face before she stepped those beautiful long legs out of his car and slammed the door in his face.

"When you kissed her?" Zack presses.

Cloud turns up with a scowl, aggrieved. "She kissed me," he insists.

Zack laughs again, catching his keys in hand one final time. "Sure, fine. I guess that's an important detail. But you didn't answer my question."

Cloud feels his face growing hot, and he hates that he has to deal with this line of questioning. But Zack is his best friend and they work frequently together on jobs for Brian Lockhart, so there's little chance he can avoid him forever.

He internally frets, but eventually, feeling Zack's aquamarine gaze boring onto his face, Cloud gives in. "I'm escorting her," he sighs at last. "At the behest of her father."

Zack is genuinely surprised by this response, eyebrows dancing across his forehead. "Wait, what?" he chuffs. "You're driving Lockhart's daughter around? Like, in your car?"

Cloud stares at Zack, feeling his blood boil.

Zack laughs again, opening the back door of his car to stash his new Buster sword. He turns to Cloud again, eyes still wide with incredulity.

"So, are you guys doin' it now, or what?"

"Zack," Cloud warns, his cheeks burning now.

Zack throws up his hands. "I just don't see how you could possibly handle it," he replies. "After Friday night, you've gotta be losing it to be in the same room as her, let alone the same car."

In this, Cloud is afraid, Zack is right. Cloud can still feel how stifling it was being in the car with Tifa, and the entire reason he came out to the tracks today was to clear his head, knowing that in just a few hours that afternoon, he'd have to pick her up once again.

"Can we just race?" he asks, exasperated. "That's why I came out here, not for a pep talk."

Zack eyes him for a moment, then shrugs, giving up on the subject of conversation. Cloud can tell, though, by the glint in his eyes that this isn't the last he's heard of it.

"Yeah, let's go. Weirdo."

Cloud ignores that jab and retreats back to his vehicle as Zack climbs into his own car. He gets behind the wheel, turning the key in the ignition and inhaling a heavy breath as the screams of thrasher metal blare their way out of his stereo system.

If there's anything at all that Cloud can rely on, it's the road in front of him, and driving with his concentration on nothing but the miles of asphalt in front of him is the only thing that keeps him sane these days. The road is predictable, unchanging with the exception of the grooves from tires or the occasional potholes that crop up that Shinra has neglected to repair. But once they are paved, they are forever embedded into the landscape, always heading in their same direction, leading somewhere far beyond.

Cloud's never ventured farther than the nearby city of Edge, which is connected to Midgar by a long loop of freeway. He's driven these roads endlessly, sometimes in the middle of the night, just to clear his head. But he's never gone any further than the exit that leads to Kalm. There's always been too much that keeps him tethered to Midgar.

He wonders, though.

Zack's engine roars and Cloud looks back up, refocusing. This road was shut down by Shinra's Highway Commission sometime ago, leading to a part of the slums that was crushed by a structural accident and is no longer accessible. The black tar has been abandoned for years, but that doesn't stop drifters like Cloud and Zack from taking advantage of it to burn rubber and test their odometers.

Even if it is illegal.

Cloud pulls up alongside Zack where he idles in the center of the road. He glances at him through the driver side window, and Zack nods, holding up three fingers to indicate their take off. Zack ticks them off, and when his fingers disappear, Cloud slams his foot to the gas.

He thinks about nothing as he throttles his way down the road, the wind ripping through his open windows and tearing through his tufts of golden blond hair. His engine is loud but hums a smooth sound, its cylinders spinning as the mako pumps through every pipe and tube that configure energy and propel the car forth.

Cloud stares at the road, the music now the only thing he can really hear. The sun sparkles across the asphalt, glittering in specks like diamond dust. Cloud doesn't keep an eye out for Zack; his focus is on the orange and yellow dividers in the distance that block their path from descending any further toward the abandoned slums.

For a brief moment, he forgets about Tifa and his job, about Brian Lockhart and all of his troubles that have been stacking since he was sixteen. Instead, for a moment, he is focused and precise, his attention on reaching the finish line before Zack, his dedication on hugging his vehicle as close to concrete as he possibly can.

He isn't sure how much time passes before he reaches the barrier, but soon, he is upon it, and he hits the brakes, twisting the wheel so that his vehicle swerves to the side in an effort to avoid slamming into it. He comes to a complete stop, just as Zack's car slides into place beside him, dust kicked up from his tires.

He has beaten Zack. Again.

The dust settles and Cloud watches as Zack slaps his steering wheel with two gloved palms in defeat. He turns to face Cloud, shaking his head through the window before he kills his engine and climbs out.

Cloud follows suit, joining his friend by the divider, where Zack is kicking at it with the toe of his boot. Cloud can't help the smug sense of pride he feels at yet another open road victory.

If only this was the only way he had to spend his time.

"Guess you beat me, fair and square," Zack admits. "Again."

Cloud shrugs, wanting to rub it in but opting not to.

Zack puffs out a sigh and leans against the barrier, staring back at the length of highway they've driven down. The sun has only grown brighter since they've been out here, and a thin strip of sweat bands across his forehead.

"You know," he says, turning to Cloud again. "There are those competitions that come around every year here in Midgar. Not really for me, but you might be able to make it professionally."

Cloud thinks about that. The truth is, he's thought about it often. But it always seems like an impossibility. A kid like him, dirt poor and from the wrong side of the plate, can't rely on pipe dreams to make it through life.

Especially not when he already has dozens of obligations that are keeping him tethered to a different sort of world altogether.

"Maybe," he answers noncommittally.

Zack opens his mouth to say something, but his PHS chirps in his pocket. He frowns, reaching for it and checking the call display.

"It's the boss," he informs Cloud tacitly.

Cloud raises an eyebrow but says nothing, crossing his arms over his chest as he waits. The mention of Brian Lockhart has him thinking again about Tifa, and he wonders what she is doing at that moment. She's probably sitting in class, and Cloud realizes he doesn't even know what she's studying. He realizes that in the last few days since they've started to interact again, he hasn't really taken the time to ask her anything about herself or get to know her.

It makes him feel like a little bit of a dick.

He tries to shake that thought off, not wanting to go down that Tonberry hole too deeply. He knows - thinking again of the toned lines of her slender arms as she stretched, of the thickness of her thighs when she leapt and whirled through roundhouse kicks - that it isn't wise for him to get too close to Tifa like that. It is dangerous, he knows. The best thing he can do is follow her father's orders and keep her at as far a distance as he can manage in the process.

Maybe he'll make her sit in the back seat of his car from now on, he thinks.

Zack is turning to him, clicking off the call on his PHS.

"Boss wants us at the warehouse," he states.

"Us?" Cloud repeats, almost wanting to whine. He was hoping to have the rest of the day to himself before he has to pick Tifa up from her university. But if Brian is asking for them both to report, that means he needs somebody or something driven somewhere.

"Yeah," Zack responds, dangling his keys in front of him. "Sounded important. Some shit with Corneo."

He tips his head at Cloud before he makes his way around his car and climbs back in, pulling off into the sun. Cloud watches him disappear, then turns to his own car, sleek and shining and black, the vessel that could take him far away from all of this.

If only he would let it.

Cloud finds Zack's car parked on the curb about a block away from Brian Lockhart's primary safehouse, an old, nondescript warehouse located in the Sector Seven slums. The kind of business that runs out of this facility is best suited for the Undercity, where Shinra's presence is lighter and where crime goes ignored. Everyone turns a blind eye to what happens in the slums.

Cloud should know, having grown up here for most of his life.

Brian himself rarely does any business here. The safehouse is to store drugs and weapons, to launder gil, and to house the lower level goons and bandits who carry out Lockhart's dirtiest but most profitable work. It's a place where they strategize, where they sit and plan out the orders that Brian and his underbosses like Rowan Rasberry dole out, heists and drug deals and turf wars.

Cloud hates coming here. Luckily for him, as little more than a driver, he rarely has to. He's not typically involved in the type of work that goes down here, and he does not want to be.

Zack, he knows, who is a runner and a soldier, often does, so this territory is not unfamiliar to him and so it is no wonder that he strides so effortlessly beyond the metal gate that guards the entry into the safehouse down the street. Cloud follows him, hands in the pockets of his hoodie as they make their way into a dark corridor.

A gunner in all black inspects them when they enter, but upon recognizing Zack, lets them pass, though not without regarding Cloud with a stern and suspicious stare. Cloud returns it eagerly, ice behind his cobalt blue stare. He isn't intimidated by any of these clowns. He's been around them for most of his life, and he doesn't find anything impressive about them.

Cloud is surprised to find that Brian Lockhart is actually here, sitting at the head of a metal table that is scattered with guns and stacks of gil wrapped in tight bundles. Rowan Rasberry sits at one side, inspecting the chambers of a pistol. A few other high ranking bosses that Cloud doesn't recognize are at the table too, and soldiers like Zack mill about, lining the walls.

Zack falls in step with them, disappearing into the shadows, and Cloud follows him, finding a place against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. Across the room, Brian looks up from where he sits, his eyes meeting Cloud's.

A conversation erupts, and Cloud listens silently. Brian leads the discussion at first but then falls back, letting Rowan and the other men at the table carry on, going back and forth in their conversation. Cloud doesn't know much about what is going on, but he listens and tries to piece together the background based on the men's conversation.

It would appear that Corneo and his lackeys in Sector Six have become more aggressive, some of the seedier parts of their business spilling over into Sector Seven. Lockhart may be a gangster but he prides himself on having some semblance of honor, relegating his business to heists and drugs. He doesn't get involved into the darker aspects of Midgar's criminal underworld, the sex trafficking and prostitution that Don Corneo has dominated for decades.

That it is spilling over into his turf and detracting from his own business, Cloud gathers from the conversation, is pissing him off.

"Corneo is testing us," Rowan Rasberry says, dumping the pistol on the table with a clang. Brian watches it spin before it settles, facing away from him. His eyes have narrowed, and Cloud can see the contemplation that is buried there.

Cloud has worked for Brian Lockhart long enough to know the way that the man operates. He is not a loud or showboating type, quite the opposite from Don Corneo, in fact. He moves in silence and has set up a number of legitimate businesses in the city that has Public Security turning the other way. And Cloud knows that Lockhart is politically astute, that he's made enough friends in high enough places that keeps him protected, the illegal gil that rolls through his coffers finding their ways into the pockets of the already rich and powerful.

That Corneo is finding ways to sully Lockhart's name and his carefully cultivated status in the city and in the Sector is clearly rubbing him the wrong way, Cloud watching as Tifa's father bends a pen between his fingers, nearly to the point of snapping it.

Cloud glances over at Zack, who is silent. They meet eyes for a moment, and Zack quietly tips his head to one side as if to say this is the first he's hearing about any of this. But Cloud turns away, holding in a sigh of exasperation. As intriguing as all of these developments may be, in reality, he truly doesn't care about Brian Lockhart's business troubles or any interruptions to the flow of his illegal work.

Still, Cloud is curious as to why his presence is required for this little parley. He crosses his arms over his chest again, shifting his weight across both feet, just as Lockhart pushes away from the table, dropping his pen and picking up the gun that Rowan has dropped before he mutters something that Cloud can't hear from where he stands to the men at the table.

And then he leaves, exiting the warehouse through a backdoor, the look on his face pulled tight in consternation as he turns away. Rowan heaves a sigh and then leans forward over the table to confer quietly with the other bosses, eventually waving Zack and a few of the others over.

Cloud stands there, unmoving, knowing this is not part of his business. He drives and that's it, and whatever these men are talking about, from his vantage point, seems a lot more involved than that. He has no intention in getting any deeper than he already is in Lockhart's affairs.

Business or personal, he muses, thinking of Tifa again.

Her silky black hair and bright, wide scarlet eyes are infecting his vision again, and Cloud tries to shake thoughts of her away. The distraction she creates in him is only stirring up resentment, and glancing at his watch, he realizes that there's only a few hours before he's stuck seeing her again.

There's movement all throughout the warehouse, and the bosses are making their way out, the gunners and the soldiers moving on to the next. Cloud doesn't snap out of his wayward thoughts, though, until Zack is standing in front of him again.

"Did you catch all of that?" he asks him.

Cloud drops his arms from his chest, letting his hands fall into the pockets of his sweatshirt. He shrugs disinterestedly at Zack.

"I got the gist."

Zack rolls his eyes slightly at Cloud's nonchalant response. "Listen, I've got to handle this situation in Wall Market. Lockhart just needs you to drop this off at the Shinra Tower."

Zack produces an envelope that he's been holding, offering it to Cloud. Cloud eyes it, nondescript and thin, unmarked and unlabeled. There's no indication of what might be inside, but even more intriguing than that is the fact that Cloud has no idea why Lockhart has him delivering shit to Shinra of all places.

"You serious?" he asks, not bothering to reach for the envelope.

Zack glances around at the other men who are moving into action now that orders have been issued. He turns back to Cloud, a line of frustration cutting across his forehead.

"Yeah, I'm serious," Zack responds, thrusting the envelope in his direction. "And I need to get moving, Cloud. Just take it."

"So I'm a delivery boy now?" Cloud huffs in frustration, snatching the envelope out of Zack's hand. He knows he's being unfair; Zack isn't responsible for the orders he's being handed, but still, he can't help but take it out on him.

Zack takes it in stride, though. He slaps Cloud on the back, leaving him with a wink before he turns away.

"A lot less stress than what I gotta deal with," he remarks with another salute. "Good luck with the boss' daughter tonight, by the way."

Zack says that a little too loudly, and it's Cloud's turn to glance around, feeling his cheeks warm up. But before he can complain, Zack is laughing and leaving him alone.

Scowling, Cloud glances at the envelope, stuffing it into the back pocket of his jeans with annoyance building up inside of him once again for so many reasons.

He leaves.

It's hours later when Cloud rolls up to the University of Midgar a little past four o'clock that afternoon, still turning the events of the day over in his mind. His visit to the Shinra Tower was more uneventful than he'd expected, a quick drop off of the thin manila folder that Zack had handed him, its contents unbeknownst to him. He was, however, intrigued that a member of the Shinra General Affairs Division - more commonly referred to as the Turks - had been sent to retrieve it, a woman in a smart pantsuit and carefully coiffed dark red hair. He doesn't question it, though, just like he hesitates to question any of Lockhart's work.

It's none of his business, even though he somehow keeps getting roped into it.

Zack texts him some time later, letting him know that everything is okay in Wall Market, but that he can tell things might get messy soon. Corneo's henchmen have gotten bolder, and their threats are starting to see more follow through. He thinks that a little more force might be required to stem them back, but says they'll talk more about it soon.

Cloud just stares down at his PHS and shakes his head, not really wanting to know anything more about it.

As he drives towards Sector One where the University of Midgar is located, Cloud finds his thoughts drifting leagues deep into the past, when his mother was still alive and when he found himself getting caught up in the undertow of a history he still doesn't really understand. He remembers a cold December night in the slums when he was just fourteen, laying under his covers and hearing a crisp shout, a male voice that he somehow knew he should recognize but found that he couldn't. It was familiar but foreign all at once, and Cloud remembers the fear that he felt at that moment, hearing the way that his mother's voice rose in pitch, the way an argument ensued, the way they both began to beg and plea with one another beyond the thin, aluminum walls that separated his room from the rest of their meager shanty house.

Cloud never heard the voice again, because time had run out for its owner. His father, he learned sometime later, was found dead in Sector Six the very next day. And all of his debts had transferred to his mother, and if it weren't for the Lockharts, she and Cloud both probably would not have survived to see another day.

At the time, Cloud hadn't understood it. In fact, he still didn't - there were still pieces missing to this story, and the gaps had never been filled in before his mother died. All he knew was that he had been roped into paying back those debts that his deadbeat of a father had accrued over the years he'd spent doing everything but taking care of his own family and his own son.

Cloud does his best not to think about these things. They stir up too much anger and resentment inside of him, and sometimes it boils his blood so badly that he sees red. There's no use dwelling on the past. The only thing he can do is think about the future and try to figure out a way past the circumstances that his parents' choices have left him with.

Still, after the morning he had, seeing the stern, menacing look behind Brian Lockhart's eyes, listening to the hushed whispers of his underbosses and thugs, Cloud can't help but think back on how he is just another link in this chained fence of crime and oppression.

None of his anxiety is helped by the fact that he is moments away from seeing Tifa again. He's been able to avoid thinking about her for most of the day with all of these work-related distractions, but Cloud has to admit that she still simmers in the back of his mind like a warm, comforting meal he's looking forward to devouring at the end of the day. He hates how eager he is to see her again, doing his best to ignore his innermost feelings that are betraying everything he wears on the surface.

Especially considering the way that they left each other's company the evening before, her face twisted in anger and his heart consumed by fire.

The sun is still out but has lowered closer to the line of the horizon when Cloud arrives at her university, looking for her outside of the pick-up spot where he'd found her the day before. He glances at the time on his dash, and he knows that this is when her classes have ended for the day. He idles the car at the curb and waits, blue eyes flickering back and forth as he watches college students come and go across the campus.

He doesn't see Tifa anywhere, not amongst the throng of students who move to and fro or standing near the curb. He frowns slightly, but he waits, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel while his aquamarine stare searches the campus' egress.

The sky dims a bit and Cloud realizes that too many minutes have passed. The song on his stereo has changed at least three times, and the music is the only thing that is keeping his frustration from careening out of control. Cloud reaches for his PHS where it's perched on his dash, but it's at that moment that he realizes that he doesn't have Tifa's number.

Dumbass .

He grinds his teeth in aggravation and tries to think his way through this. He can keep waiting, but already his patience has worn thin. He can't very well call her father and ask for her number, let alone tell him that he can't find her; her father certainly isn't expecting nor would tolerate that level of incompetency from him, especially when it concerns his daughter.

Cloud glances at his PHS again. He could call Zack and try to track Aerith down. There's a good chance that she might know where Tifa is or at the very least, could give him her number so he could call her. But just the thought of going through all of that has Cloud burning up with fury again, and he thinks about how much of his own personal time is being wasted with this useless endeavor. He really wishes he had never run into Tifa Lockhart again and finds himself cursing her father for pulling him into this bullshit job.

He's reluctantly about to dial Zack's number when he hears a familiar laugh beyond his open window, deep and throaty. He looks up, first seeing Jessie Rasberry, her hands thrust into the pockets of her jacket as she laughs along the sidewalk, headed in the direction of a beat-up old red car from where she emerges from one of the university's towers.

Cloud sees Aerith next, her hand over her mouth as she giggles brightly in response.

But it's the river of ink shining in the waning sunlight that captures his attention, and Cloud watches as Tifa laughs in response, following behind the two girls towards the vehicle that is parked a ways up ahead on the curb across the street from his.

Her body moves with a fluidity that is staggering. She's wearing jeans that are painted on, and her blouse, a silky, wispy white thing, exposes a hint of her midriff. Her impossibly long legs stretch on for aeons, made even more endless by the clunky-heeled boots she wears.

But he stops breathing because over it all, she's wearing his black leather jacket, the one he left in her room last Friday. It's loose on her body, but with the tightness of everything else she wears, the way it hangs over her sloping, angular shoulders, only serves to make her look like the most haute couture supermodel in all of Midgar.

What the fuck.

Cloud watches, stunned, his brain processing the sight in front of him. Tifa is not even looking for him, is completely engrossed in the conversation with her girlfriends and seems determined to make off with them. He thinks again about their departure from one another yesterday, and realizes that she was serious when she told him she didn't want to ride with him anymore.

That would normally be fine with him, but unfortunately, it doesn't work that way. Brian Lockhart is her father and his boss.

"Tifa!" he finds himself leaning over the seat and calling out of the open window.

Tifa stops and turns in his direction. She is a good number of feet away, but he can see her face clearly from where he's parked. Their eyes meet, but Tifa quickly looks away. Cloud is almost certain that she saw him, and the way that she moves quickly towards Jessie's car tells him that she is purposefully ignoring him.

Goddamnit .

Cloud curses himself, realizing this is all his fault. He should have never pushed her buttons the way that he did the night before, should never have even looked in her direction when he picked her up. He shouldn't have stuck around watching her train in that dojo like a lustful idiot, shouldn't have let her consume all those Round Island Iced Teas to the point that her arms were around his neck and her tits were pressed to his chest and her lips were connected to his in the middle of a hot and sweaty dance floor.

He's fucked now, he knows, thinking of Brian Lockhart again.

Cloud throws the car back into drive and looks to pull out onto the road to follow Jessie, but of course, now is when a light changes behind him and the street is suddenly flooded with traffic. Anger lines his thinking as he alternates his attention between merging and following Jessie's dilapidated red vehicle as it makes its way towards the freeway. When the traffic thins, Cloud merges in, following now quite a distance behind as Jessie drives towards Sector Six.

Cloud has excellent vision and one of the things that makes him such a great driver is his ability to multitask, enhanced by superior hand-eye coordination. He changes lanes seamlessly, weaving between cars as the rush-hour traffic begins to thicken. Even though Jessie's car is nearly out of sight, he's able to track her, never staying too far out of reach to lose her. But Cloud feels a certain sense of dread drape over him when he realizes that Jessie is not only heading to Sector Six, but is driving towards the slums.

Why in the fuck are these crazy girls headed to the slums of Sector Six of all places?

Cloud is silently swearing to himself about this entire fiasco when he finds himself on the exit ramp several cars behind them. He watches Jessie's erratic maneuvering of her vehicle as she hooks a right, and Cloud is watching the signs above, shaking his head in silent disbelief as he realizes that she's driving straight into Wall Market.

Lockhart is going to cut his head off, he thinks.

Wall Market is a crowded place to drive in, and the congestion quickly gets bad, bumper to bumper. Cloud has to shift in his seat to track Jessie's car, but he can still see her, a few dozen cars ahead. Music is blaring and the sky is now dark, but the skyline is bright from the fluorescent fairy lights that shine all around this flamboyant and seedy neighborhood playground.

Cloud has not had the misfortune to spend much time in Wall Market. He's run getaway for a few heists here, made a couple of drops, but mostly, this is an area he stays out of. It's the heart of Don Corneo's territory, the base of his operations at the apex of the locality. As someone who is from Sector Seven and works for Brian Lockhart, spending too much time in a place like Wall Market is just asking for trouble.

Which is why Cloud is now vexed to the point of rage that Tifa is following her friends into this part of Midgar, knowing good and well that her father's rival runs this part of town and that there couldn't possibly be a more dangerous neighborhood for her to traipse through.

Could his luck get any worse?

Cloud decides that it probably can and so he decides to drop that train of thought, following Jessie and watching when she pulls over and squeezes her vehicle into a parallel parking space on the street. Cloud is still sitting behind a line of cars that are crammed in traffic, horns blaring and adding to the already offensive noise pollution of Wall Market as they sit at a traffic light. He feels caged the longer he sits there, especially as he watches Jessie emerge from the driver side of the car first, a wild smile on her face before Aerith and Tifa quickly join her.

The light changes just as Cloud realizes the three girls are walking down the block, making their way toward a crooked concrete building with a flickering neon sign that reads Bandersnatch Tattoos .

Cloud can only sigh, shaking his head in disbelief.

Frustration is climbing along his nerves again, but Cloud fights the distraction he feels by trying to find a parking space. To his great annoyance, the nearest available one is over a block away, and he slams his door after he parks, hands finding the pockets of his hoody as he tries to imagine what Tifa is thinking about in coming to a place like this and going to a tattoo parlor of all places.

He blames Jessie and Aerith, of course. This is one hundred percent their fault, but Cloud thinks of Tifa's father again and knows that he is the only person who is going to take the fall if Tifa comes home with ink marring her body.

Cloud doesn't have anything against tattoos. He has plenty of his own. But Cloud also isn't stupid and he knows Brian Lockhart would lose his shit if he had any idea of what Tifa was getting herself into.

By the time Cloud finds Bandersnatch Tattoos up the block, all three girls have disappeared from the front lobby. A purple-haired teenager with half a dozen facial piercings looks up from where she sits behind a counter, thumbing through a magazine.

"Bit of a wait," she informs him through pops of bubble gum. "Bunch of girls just came in, got all the artists tied up."

Cloud's patience is frayed to the point of nonexistence, and his response is short. "I'm not here for any work," he informs her brusquely. "I'm here to pick up one of those girls. The dark haired one. Can you tell her to come out here, please."

It's not a question, but more a sternly and thinly worded demand. The girl quirks an eyebrow but shakes her head.

"Sorry, but once a client goes in the back, I can't disturb them until they are finished," is her response. "Boss's orders. You're gonna have to wait."

Cloud wants to argue, but instead he tosses his stare heavenward. He knows that it is fruitless. And judging by the cartoonish poster that hangs above sample tattoo art on the wall, he knows that the 'boss' she refers to is more than likely Don Corneo.

There is no sense in kicking up dust in enemy territory, but this thought only makes Cloud angrier at Tifa and cursing his circumstances even further.

"We have a discount on nipple piercings," the girl informs him, but Cloud simply scowls, taking a seat in a rusted arm chair with split plastic upholstery, dropping his head into his hands.

To his great chagrin, Cloud has to wait nearly an hour before Jessie emerges first, her tank top revealing the sleeve of intricate artistic designs that are inked into the skin of her right arm, slicked over by a film of petroleum jelly. Cloud eyes the work that covers her skin, but none of the patterns really make sense to him and truth be told, he honestly doesn't give a fuck.

Jessie takes notice of him immediately. "Well, if it isn't Baby Blues here?" she teases at once, her honey-brown eyes wide and mirthful. "Did you follow Tifa all the way from the schoolhouse down into the slums to rescue her, Prince Charming?"

Jessie moves fast, and before Cloud knows it, she's leaning in his personal space, carrying with her the scent of a cheap and way too strong perfume that makes him cough. He pulls away from her and frowns, shaking his head.

"Where's Tifa?" is all he can manage in response, and it forces Jessie to simply laugh.

As if to answer, Aerith exits the back next, holding her wrist with one hand. Cloud can see that she's gotten a tattoo of a tiny pink flower on the inside of her wrist, and her expression is pinched in pain.

"Tifa is still inside," Aerith replies to him, almost disagreeably. "Cloud, what are you doing here?"

Cloud really doesn't have the wherewithal to answer any questions. Glancing at his watch, he sees that it is already far past six o'clock. He was supposed to have Tifa home by five. He is already working in the back of his mind inventing excuses to explain to Lockhart why he's escorting his daughter home so late.

"You know what I'm doing here," he nearly snaps, and the purple haired girl looks up from her magazine at his harsh tone. "I'm supposed to drive Tifa home. What is wrong with you, coming to this Sector?"

Aerith opens her mouth to respond, but Cloud is too disgusted to entertain her response. He turns away from her with a glower and folds his arms over his chest.

Jessie just lets out a bright laugh. "Aww, look at Daddy's overprotective little henchman," she jeers. "How romantic."

Cloud is ready to curse her out when the door to the back creaks open, and Tifa suddenly appears. She is still wearing his leather jacket over that perfectly form-fitting ensemble she has on, but her face is a little strained, her eyes somewhat glassy.

"Tifa," Cloud hears himself say at once, and he has no idea why his voice is suddenly so fucking soft.

Tifa looks up at him, and the realization that he's there has her at first blushing before all of the color drains from her face. There's a look of terror that develops like a photograph across her face, and Cloud feels his heart pick up speed as he considers what about him produces that reaction in her.

He doesn't have too much time to think about it, though, because his anger is returning, thinking again about how the time is ticking on and on. Tifa turns to him, her eyes wide.

"Hey, Cloud."

It's hard not to yell and she's so pretty, bringing out his worst impulses. Cloud grits his teeth and tries, his fingers digging into own palms.

"Tifa," he says her name again calmly, "We got to go."

There's a level of sternest in his voice that makes it apparent there is no room for argument here. Both Jessie and Aerith still and silence themselves, leaving the floor open for Tifa to react.

Which Tifa does so by first glancing around, as if there's something that can distract her from her predicament. But she knows there isn't, and almost obediently, she shoulders her purse and makes her way in Cloud's direction.

"I'll see you guys later," Tifa calls to her friends. Aerith is silent, but Jessie whistles, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Told you Lover Boy would catch you in the act," she laughs.

Tifa barely shrugs, but Cloud can tell she's still a bit embarrassed. He finds himself looking over her body, trying to find where she may have gotten tattooed. But he can't see anything under his fucking jacket that she's wearing.

"Hey," she greets him shyly when their eyes meet.

Cloud is furious. He gives cautious glances to Jessie and Aerith, then sterns his gaze at Tifa, pointing behind him.

"Get in the car," he says.