A/N: So if this looks familiar...it is. It's a revamped version of the story, because I wasn't liking how the original one was trying out. My writing is still rusty, but not as much as before. Sorry in advance for any typos and other errors, even with glasses on I still suck at catching them. Oh and FYI, this is an A/U.
I won't keep you any longer...
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Final Fantasy VII or any of its characters.
ENJOY!
Chapter 1: Setting The Tone
The smell of death was strong, but the stench of blood was blinding.
Slashing his buster sword at a bahba velamyus that lunged at him from the right, he shook sweat from his hair, before dodging another attack from behind. The pack of monsters were a pest to deal with. They'd been terrorizing Sector 7 Slums for a few weeks now. Longer, depending on who you asked. Cloud had taken the job once the resident dwellers scrapped up enough funds to put a bounty on the pack's heads.
He managed to cut down two more before being bitten by a bold bahba.
Its potent slob dripped from its circular mouth as it chomped relentlessly at his arm bracer. Thank Gaia he decided to invest in them, or he'd be missing skin, muscle, and bone. It still stung like hell! With a swift pivot, he bashed its comrade creeping up on his left using the hilt of his sword. A second later he was using the fleshy varmint gnawing at his right bracer to slap away another. Teeth slipped away. Now freed, he made quick work of the stunned foes.
There had been fifteen of them when he had managed to corner them in the Slum's sewer system. It hadn't been the ideal battleground, what with the torturous fumes of shit and rot. He had no other choice. Besides, he knew how to adapt. Blocking out half eaten human remains and various smears of dried blood on dirty metal was easy. For now.
Glowing azures counted the enemies remaining.
Seven.
Cloud didn't know how, but he could sense their fear. With their numbers dwindling it was almost as if they were becoming uncertain of themselves. Like they were finally starting to realize that they were not in the presence of prey. In their self-preservation, they thought to use the dark against him. Melting away in the limited shadows their dead-end provided. They hadn't grasped that he could see them. He doubted that they'd comprehend it even if he pointed directly at them. Bahba velamyus weren't intelligent creatures. Ruled by their stomach, they operated like starving wolves. Which was why the biggest, strongest, and fastest one was killed first.
It was child's play after that.
Activating the ice materia in his sword's slot, he swung twice with precision. Three frozen corpses dropped from the upper left corner of shadows, shattering into pieces upon impact. Eyeing the four remaining, he lowered his weapon. Its hilt dropping in degree. Dramatically enough to be felt through his gloves. The icy temperature sharpened his senses. Kept his spine stiff. He wouldn't use it again. His body had an odd reaction to materia. It left him both energized and exhausted. Grounded, yet floaty.
Walking backwards away from where the last of the bahbas stayed hidden. He pinched his lips into a loose 'o', emitting a gentle stream of random notes that echoed in the tight space. Eyelids lowered over shining orbs. Furthest to his right he could hear the whooshing of sewer water traveling its endless route. Every now and then, a breeze of the smallest of winds would swirl through the area. Just underneath that were the squeaks of rodents and scurrying of insect legs. Brushing those trivial noises away, he latched onto the desired sound. The hiss-like breathing of his enemies. It was a near silent sound an ordinary person would have missed completely. The ability to hear at great distances and/or the quietest of things had nearly drove him made during the earlier stages of his reawakening. Even now, after a year of wandering, he was still relearning the things his body could do. There were many perks of being a lost SOLDIER 1st Class. Though, he was slowly coming to think that the cons were heavier than the pros.
A sudden scrapping brought him back to the problem at hand.
The stilled air shifted.
Cloud moved the moment they were in range.
Similar to the movement of a whirlwind, he spun along with his buster sword. Fulfilling three taut circles, he came to a halt, knees locked in its crouch with both hands fixed on the maroon hilt. Magenta blood oozed from the steel blade.
Wet smacks of separated flesh resounded behind him. His enemies blood peppered the soiled ground like rain. Easing out of his stance, he turned to witness his finished work. Their fleshy corpse was turned into oddly shaped chucks. Diced liked spoiled meat. The sight was satisfying because it spoke a swordsman's language. Clean cuts. Zero jagged edges. A smooth finish. It was art created by a well-kept blade. Sharp and deadly.
Shaking the murky blood from said blade, he secured it to the magnetized sheath on his back. He proceeded to give himself a standard once over. Despite the growing need of a shower, he wasn't as messy as he assumed. He was mostly sweaty with a splash of purplish blood scattered over his bare upper arms. Usually he came out looking like a horror extra after a hunt. No matter the color, he was covered from head-to-toe in monster guts. Nothing cleared a crowd faster than an armed man who looked like they'd went on a massacre.
It was a habit he was battling.
He noted the warped right arm bracer after checking to make sure there weren't any holes in his solid black attire. "Dammit," he hissed, calculating the money he'd have to spend to replace it. Being a SOLDIER in the Slums, he could already imagine the predatory pricing he'll face. Sighing to expel any building annoyance the thoughts were sure to bring, he pulled out his PHS, capturing the proof of his kills in three flashes.
Mission complete.
Cloud wasted no time exiting the sewer system.
The mako laced air was a welcomed change. Inhaling deeply, he winced at the distinct bite on his tongue. No matter how many times it was explained to him, he would never understand how the dwellers could tolerate the low quality of air. The people who'd been kind enough to enlighten him told him that it was something everyone grew used to, and if you were born Below-Plate you wouldn't know the difference anyway. Never one to rest in pessimism, he did make it a practice to be honest, with himself and others. He didn't see himself ever getting use to the tainted air of either Midgar or Slums. Though, he knew he had a better chance of ignoring it Above-Plate.
Venturing through Sector 7, he didn't see much of a difference between it and the sewers. It was just as dirty, dark, and depressing. Feces were traded in for piss puddles. There wasn't a block that he passed that wasn't littered with trash. A few homeless people reached out begging hands or recoiled babbling nonsense. The Slum's architecture was outdated. What wasn't made out of old steel and weathered stone, was made with worn wood held together by hope and a prayer.
Maybe that was just this sector? He hadn't been here longer than a month to make any final judgement. Not that he was excited to see any more of the inescapable poverty. Cloud knew what to expect when he decided that his next nomadic move would be to Midgar Slums. So, if one sector looked like this, didn't they all?
A chill ran down his spine and riddled his skin with goose bumps.
His head jerked to the left as he came to a stop.
Really, he couldn't quite comprehend what he was seeing. It made zero sense to him.
Down on her knees in the partially lit alleyway was a girl. Or, maybe, a youthful looking woman? He couldn't tell for sure. The pale pink dress gave her a sort of innocent appeal that confused him, because clothes shouldn't have the ability to do that. Her crimson cropped jacket added when it should have clashed with the perception. He inched closer. Then some more. He found that her chestnut hair was unnecessarily long. Who needed hair that long? The maintenance of having such lengthy tresses was surely out of the woman's budget! It was tied with a ribbon that matched her dress, the strands after it formed into a single braid.
An unknown compulsion made him take another step forward. Brows narrowing at her clasped hands and bowed head, he frowned. The hell was she doing, his inner voice snapped. He knew the pose. He passed by -and entered on special occasions- many churches. Maybe asking what was the wrong questions? Why, yeah, that sounded better.
Once his eyes went on the search, he couldn't believe how he missed it.
Coming from leaking pipes bolted to the stone wall in front of the brunette was floating, firefly-like balls of glistening green light. Mako. He knew the unique substance anywhere, no matter its shape of form. There was nothing else like it on Gaia. Which, again, brought him back to his original question.
What the hell was she doing?
"That stuff'll burn if you get any closer," he found himself calling out suddenly.
Emerald eyes slammed into his shining azures and fearlessly stayed.
Maybe under different circumstances he would have been impressed. There weren't many alive who would hold eye contact with him, whether it being because of his SOLDIER status or just them seeing something else staring back. How unfortunate was it that the one to break his one hundred- and fifty-five-day streak was a total nutjob? She went on to prove his assumption right by grinning in his direction instead of immediately moving away from the dancing green. He gave her a few seconds to show some sanity, before scoffing when she went back to her previous position.
Cloud tsked. "Psycho."
Putting her out of his mind, he resumed in the direction he was going. There was money to be collected. Then a shower still to be had.
He soon reached his destination.
It was a shabby, little building. No bigger than six hundred square feet. This was the one and only Bounty Shop in the entirety of Midgar Slums. There were little to no monster hunters around and due to the scarcity of gil, it was wise to only have one. Entering the building, he paid no mind to the few men inside. They were the little to no -unskilled- hunters. Sneering at him, the table of four muttered among themselves about him.
ShinRa trash.
ShinRa dog.
ShinRa's defect.
ShinRa's reject.
The insults weren't original, neither did they hurt.
Stopping at the counter, the owner greeted him with a smile from behind the protector glass. "How much do I owe ya," Katie, the brown-haired wife and mother, queried before he could pull his PHS out. He was a frequent customer, so their exchange was a routine than anything else.
"Five hundred," he replied, showing her the pictures just for the hell of it. Besides, with the burning pair of eyes, he wanted to avoid creating any accusations of favoritism. Not only would it hurt the woman's business, it would eliminate one of the main sources of his income.
She barely gave it a glance before sliding the due amount over to him. They shared mutual amusement at the sucking of teeth that hit their ears. She didn't hold his eyes for long, either because she couldn't, or instincts were telling her not to. His chest gave a strange ping.
"Hopefully, that'll be the last of ShinRa's escaped experiments," she wishfully expressed.
Before he could engage in the small talk, his ears picked up on yet another one of the men's hissed insults. "There's one standing right in front of ya, stupid woman!" Blazing blues cut over his shoulder to catch where it came from. A balding man flinched once he realized he'd been heard. His drinking buddies dropped their noses into their beverages, unwilling to come to the bald man's defense or challenge the glaring SOLDIER.
"Get home safe, Cloud," Katie called out, worry etched into her face.
He felt another ping in his chest.
"Thanks," he nodded back, making sure to keep his eyes lowered. They weren't friends. They weren't even casual associates. But they had their own thing. Whatever it was he didn't want to ruin it because he couldn't keep a lid on his anger. From the corner of his eyes, he saw her aging hand reach for his, then retreating in second thought.
A third ping.
He'd usually stop at the post board to see what was new or left of the bounties. Depending on his mood, he'd pump a few coins into the vending machine next to it. There was an orange pop she kept stocked after she noticed he favored it during his third visit. He would have taken a seat at the only other table by the window, getting lost in thought for an hour, before making his way to the place he was currently staying.
Cloud wouldn't do any of those things. Not this time.
He left without another word.
Going back the way he came, his steps slowed as he passed the alleyway again. Thankfully, the woman was no longer there. In his soured mood, he might have done more than just scold her.
The blond monster hunter fought not to let tonight's events bother him. He avoided looking into those strange pings. He would be doing himself no favors. This all just proved why he didn't have friends. Didn't do friends. Didn't go out of his way to make or nurture friendships. His abruptness was off putting to most, making it easy to stay a lone wolf. Of course, there was that usual person or two, who'd take hold of his resisting hand. He made sure to leave the town or city before any attachment could form.
He would do the same here. His stay at the Slums wasn't permanent. Soon as he could, he would move topside. Even then, he wasn't sure how long he would remain there. Faint flashes of memories motivated his move here. An old life gone. Though, there was another reason he was here. He couldn't explain what that reason was, because he didn't know what the reason is. He knew that it made him feel lost. Like he was brought here by some force that had none-to-pleasant plans for him.
Trapped in these thoughts, he nearly ran into one of those possible reasons.
"Wow there!" Hands he'd watched knock a man out cold and delicately pour an array of drinks in the same night pressed against his chest.
Taking in the familiar stranger, "Tifa," he greeted, taking a step back.
She responded with a radiant smile. There was a story behind those stretched lips and curved eyes. Along with emotions he dared not look too deep into. For his peace of mind and hers. "I was hoping that you'd still be out and about," her blood colored eyes took a moment to roam over his form. "Your hunt went well, I see!"
Nodding in agreement, he shoved back the tiredness trying to set into his bones. "What can I do for you?" He tried not to wince at how dry and distant the question sounded. She'd expressed how much she disliked the professional way he dealt with her on two separate occasions. They were childhood friends. Blurred memories supported her claim. There was just something heavy sitting between he and the dark-haired beauty. There were also questions he wanted to ask. She'd answer them. Every one of them. He could tell by the way she held her breath. By the way she bit the corner of her lip whenever he did ask something, but it had nothing to do with their shared history.
It wasn't often that he displayed such cowardice behavior. Sometimes he felt the urge to be petty against his own caution and demand to know the true nature of their relationship. Common sense would soon takeover and remind him to view that topic as the minefield that it obviously was. He knew the moment he decided to break the fragile barrier of politeness between them, would be the moment things changed.
"Oh, well," there was the barest of pink dusting over her cheeks, "I thought that maybe you'd like to see a bit more of Sector 7 after you were done with your hunt." Slender fingers fidgeted. "But only if you aren't tired or anything- if you are, then we can do this another time!" She rushed to add, unknowingly or not, giving him a way out.
He should take it. Gaia knows how much he wanted to sleep!
"Sure," he found himself saying instead. It was a good thing he didn't smell like the sewer he came from.
"Great! Follow me."
And so, began his unofficial tour of Sector 7.
"AVALANCHE is becoming a problem," the General Manager of ShinRa declared.
Rufus eyed the rather plain looking man over his glass of Pomerol. "Indeed, they are," he concurred. Had the other occupants not been at the table, he would have replied in a biting matter. But it was best to play nice in front of company.
"What should be done about them then?" Mayor Domino queried across the table from him, eyes darting between him and the GM.
The table of six were gathered under the roof of high-end restaurant: Elite Dish.
Business was moderately slow around this time, which made having a dinner meeting ideal. The group was placed in the far back, secluded from the few guests enjoying their own meals. He had everything planned out down to very placement of their seats and who sat in them. Scarlet lounged in the chair to his right and seated across from her was the mayor's wife, Martha. To his left was ShinRa's General Manager, Brian Hanawu, who sat facing Domino's pride and joy. His daughter. Tina. The slender woman was the push needed -and carrot used- to orchestrate this meeting. A threat made against her had her father sprinting to join him at the table tonight.
"We crush them!" The blonde sadist answered in his place, eyeing the older man as if it were obvious.
Her choice of words tickled him. What she lacked in finesse she more than made up for with her enthusiasm to erase all who opposed her or ShinRa. Making her perfect for her position as the company's Director of Weapons.
"That is the endgame. Unfortunately, their exact location remains a mystery and it would be far too early to rid of them." He decided to clarify, knowing that the ever-aging man needed things spelled out for him.
And he didn't disappoint.
"Why is that?"
Wetting his palette with another sip of the tasteful red wine, he took a moment to savior its texture before answering. "Simple. You would be turning them into martyrs," something he knew the group wanted if all else failed, "especially now with them swaying a third of the city's opinion in their favor."
"I despise vermin with brains," Scarlet spat, folding her arms under her bosom.
Brian raised his glass to her, "I agree. It makes dealing with riff raff twice as troublesome."
Rufus would drink to that. In the beginning the eco-terrorist were pest with picket signs. Annoying, but tolerable. Had he known they would evolve into the devastating force they were now, he would have had ShinRa rain Ifrit's fire down on them, when they become bold enough to throw rocks at the building's windows.
Mayor Domino frowned, "What can we do then?"
Truly, he wondered how the older man stayed in his position for long? Even with his father's help, the graying man lacked the critical thinking and common sense required to survive in their snake pit. Still, the man had his uses. For now.
"It is a game of psychological chess and they have revealed a card in their hand." A card he would monopolize and use against them tenfold. "We remind those who need be that ShinRa is in fact the innocent party. We remind them that AVALANCHE are terrorist. Blood thirsty villains who are more than willing to cut down harmless bystanders if it serves their cause." He ended, delighted at the awe he inspired in the family seated across from him.
"I see where you're going," his well-groomed GM snapped his fingers, "we can stage a few scenes in the lower city district. Disguise some of our men as AVALANCHE and have them ruin a few businesses-"
"Kill a few dozen people," the blonde weapon's director interrupted, cruelty stretching her red painted lips. Bloody like the bodycon dress gripping her curves. The Blood Maiden of Death. Enemies and the fearful coined the fitting title. Whether in bed or on the battlefield, she craved the spilling of blood. He had played between her sheets once before. While he wasn't too fond of her sadistic kinks, it left a lasting impression. One he wasn't soon to forget.
"I don't think we should go that far!" The Mayor tittered, smoothing trembling hands down his tan suit jacket. When the appendages didn't cease their shakes, he pulled them under the table. His eyes darted around the room, never landing on a thing or person for long.
Scarlet wasn't done. Her next words had the man looking pale and faint.
"Ah, but we haven't even started the engine." She observed him as she downed more than half of her imported beer. Eyes lit with borderline insanity, with a shark-like grin. "You see, Mister Mayor, when you are at war with an opponent with nothing to lose, you must prepare to make sacrifices that are fitting to their level of desperation."
Tina, the Mayor's daughter, shifted uneasily. She swept long, healthy black hair over the shoulder of her sleeveless pale blue dress. A natural beauty. Rufus was sure that she inherited it all from her mother. Said mother hid whatever reaction she had behind her glass of water. It was the unnecessary strength she used to grip the cup that gave her discomfort away. It was pitiful. Their privileges made them soft. Coming from a legacy that was built off other's hard work, the vice president expected nothing less. People from their world turned their nose up at the vicious, vulgarity of reality; but were the first to lavish in the luxuries it provided.
Spoiled and useless.
There was no place for women of no value in his line of work.
"Mister Vice President! We can't-"
"Is your stomach weak, Domino?"
Icy cerulean glowered into frightened browns.
Sure, the man had his usefulness whenever the time called for him. But he wouldn't tolerate any weak links in his fence. In his world, anyone can be replaced. If need be, Mayors can be too. The ultimatum silenced the table. There was only one right answer. One confirmation he would accept from the other. Nothing more. Nothing less.
"It isn't, Vice President." Martha replied for her husband. Proving just how spineless and feeble the aging man is. "We are ready and willing to do what needs to be done for our city."
Hm, maybe I should make her the mayor, Rufus thought.
"Is that so?" His gaze never shifted from his target. If eyes were truly the windows to the soul, then the Mayor's were telling him a completely different story.
"Without hesitation."
At those chosen words, answered yet again by the lovely wife, he gave her his undivided attention…and watched her.
She was an old fashion beauty. Classical. Short, black hair styled in a mature cut that framed her face to appear slimmer than it was. Martha Cleaver. Sharp like her maiden name. She was a horrible housewife, yet a formidable shopper. Unbeknownst to her, while she was away swiping her husband's card, Domino was swiping away evidence of his affair. Staring into her forest green eyes, he wondered if she knew. If she did, then she was more resilient than he thought. He was banking on that spirited attribute to keep her husband in check.
Cutting their staring match short, he decided to move on.
"We'll use the News Stations on our payroll to run segments about the terrorist group. Morning, noon, and night; the public will get a daily dose of the horror that is AVALANCHE. They'll wake up to their wickedness and go to sleep terrified of them." Rufus could see the events play out before his eyes. "We'll create emergency alerts that'll be sent out twice every other day to every working PHS in Midgar. Interrupt television shows, radio stations, and promotional screens. When asked; say that they're testing's- drills, in case of an actual emergency."
There were no objections as he painted his vivid picture of how he would traumatize the public. None were bold enough to try. For the sake of their health and career, it was best to keep any disagreements to themselves. Though, if anyone had something negative to say, it was Domino and his daughter. During his rollout, they gulped at their glasses of water. Refilling and emptying their cups faster than they could replace the liquid. He found them amusing. Watching the righteous duo battle with their ethics and morals. The only thing that would be more entertaining was stripping the weak-willed man of his status and throwing his family at the bottom of the social ladder.
"What about the staged scenes? I doubt any of the News Stations would be thrilled to go along with our plans and keep quiet, no matter how much we paid them." His GM stressed, swirling his white wine before taking what he thought was a graceful sip.
The dark-haired man made a valid point, but he didn't need to worry.
"I'll take care of that." Scarlet offered up, inspecting her manicured nails. "I have a specific News reporter on my leash."
The mysterious answer awakened Brian's fierce curiosity. "Yeah? Who's that?"
"Let's just say that he's one of Midgar's and Junon's most trusted and cherished," she leered at her coworker who leaned in close.
"You naughty little snake!"
She hissed back, reducing the man to a giggling schoolgirl.
It pleased the blond-haired vice president to see the two cutthroats plotting to slice someone else's. He preferred the two working as one, instead of against each other. He was beginning to grow tired of spending money fixing whatever they damaged trying to outmaneuver the other. There was only so much patience in the world, and he had very little of it. To the surprise of many.
"Brain," gaining his GM's attention, he continued, "I want you and a squad of infantrymen to head down to the Slum's train station. Take a camera man from our Media Department and interview some of the passengers." Rufus waited for him to acknowledge the order before adding, "Payoff a few of the savages. I want every corner whispering about AVALANCHE's taint."
"My pleasure, sir."
"You, Mayor, in the mist of it all will play the distraught father concerned about his family's safety." Even if there was no chance of the eco-terrorist group harming the man's loved ones… ShinRa would. Based off that unsaid promise, the man's fretfulness should be convincing enough. "Show them your outrage as the mayor, the confidence of a man seeking justice, and the empathy of someone who was once an ordinary nine-to-five worker."
Show me your true feelings, he encouraged mentally.
The face of the mayor's enemy was his. His sleek back blond locks. His conning blue eyes. His pink lips stretched into a taunting grin. His high cheekbones and sharp jawline. Rufus bathed in the title of being the man's greatest foe. He lavished in being the two-faced man's source of anxiety. This imposter who kissed infants and volunteered at soup kitchens. All while knowing that he sold his soul to ShinRa for wealth and glory, for the position he was currently in. Midgar's Mayor. He never missed the opportunity to remind Domino of that fact. The fact that he wasn't a free man. As long as the sorry bag of flesh sat in his seat, he would belong to Rufus.
"Can you handle that?" He couldn't help but twist the metaphorical blade even more.
Domino pinched his lips together, looking for a brief second like he was going to resist, before sighing in defeat. "Of course, Vice President." The words made his blood sing in triumph.
"Of course," Rufus parroted, spying the daughter's grimace from the corner of his eye.
Husband, daughter, and wife.
The family of pawns. His pawns. Pawns to moved on his chessboard. Disposable pieces that were creeping to their end. A bit faster than he planned. But he always kept a few backup pieces in his packet.
A professionally dressed waiter pushed their food out on a crystal chart.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the man greeted in a generic tone, skillfully placing their plates in front of them. Once he was done, he gave a wordless bow, promising to have someone come to refill their drinks before leaving.
Taking a knife and fork to his medium rare steak, Rufus hummed as the tender meat hit his tongue.
The rest of the table followed suit.
She was quiet.
Cloud wasn't any better, but silence from his end was to be expected. During the tour, she had been animated, pointing out this and that. Surprisingly, he had been interested. Entertained even. She'd mentioned that he was the first person she'd given a tour to since moving here. But a foggy memory of snow and a younger Tifa dressed in a western styled cowgirl outfit told him that she'd given him a tour elsewhere too. He'd been hesitant to bring it up. He still was.
"Have you been adjusting well?" It took him a second to realize that she had finally broken the stale silence. Tucking hair behind her ear, she watched him from the corner of her eyes. "You know, living with Marle and all?"
He thought of the silver haired grandmother he shared a roof with. "She's been very hospitable." Not that he could accurately pass judgement, since he hadn't lived in the woman's humble home long enough for her to be anything else. There was an unspoken agreement between them though. Respect the other's space and mind the business that paid them. He could live with that. In fact, it was perfect. The sassy, smart mouthed granddaughter on the other hand…
Just thinking about the teenaged girl made his face twist into something that caused Tifa to bubble up with laughter.
"Uh oh! There's something else?"
He was fine not answering. Nothing came out of bad mouthing someone else. Besides, he could handle a fast-talking teen. Kind of. Unfortunately, his dark-haired companion wasn't taking his nonverbal maturity as an answer. Using her shoulder to knock into his as they aimlessly roamed through the near-empty sidewalks, she waited with eyes lit in curiosity.
"The granddaughter is," he puffed out, trailing off with a sigh. How to explain her? Was snot nosed asshole too harsh?
"Adventurous and headstrong." Tifa offered before throwing her head back, mouth releasing robust chuckles that shook most of her body. It made the corners of his lips curve. Seems like he didn't have to explain after all. The young girl's behavior was wildly known around the Slums. Or so he'd been told.
"That's one way of putting it." If anything, else, the girl was motivation. Motivation to hurry up and get the hell out of the Slums. Whenever their eyes would meet after her grandmother successfully coaxed him into sharing breakfast with them, he would be reminded that his stay below was temporary. The answers he needed to unlock his murky past was Topside.
He glanced over at his childhood friend when she once again bumped his shoulder, "Don't be too hard on her," we all have our reasons, was left unsaid.
Of course. Every person in the Slums didn't chose to live here. It was dank and dirty. Food was hard to come by and money was even harder. He knew hunger and desperation. He knew what it would make good people do. He knew what good people have done. But not everyone here was honest and innocent. Some people here were bad and because they were bad, they thrived. Cowards in a crowd of damaged souls. Wolves preying upon sheep. Was it because they knew no other way? Born in this hell hole to keep the cycle going. Or, did they realize that their world was lawless, so they would behave unlawfully?
Opening his mouth to agree, despite his moment of turmoil, he stopped at the sight of a familiar brunette. "Psycho?" Cloud mumbled, squinting his eyes to make sure that who he was seeing was who he thought it was. Watching the woman, he noted that she was in some kind of distress.
"Huh?" Who- oh, yeah! Tifa.
He wanted to answer her. He was planning to and yet, he was captured by the woman and her stupid pink dress. It was definitely the nutjob back at the alley! Who else would be caught in the dead of night, swatting, and jerking away at invisible…things? Imaginary friends? No. Enemies? He couldn't be sure, but it looked like she was crying.
Before he could convince himself whether to intervene, Tifa had caught on to what captured his attention. But unlike him, she didn't need to debate on what her next move should be. Her feet were already taking her in the strange woman's direction. Cloud was a step behind her, fingers suddenly itching to wrap around his buster sword.
"Hey? Hey!" The bar maiden tried getting the weeping woman's attention with zero success. When she was close enough, she stretched out her hand, "Miss," she paused, suddenly unsure if she should touch the other woman.
Mindful of that reluctance, he decided he would step in just in case the frightened woman proved to be too unstable to handle. Once he placed himself in front of Tifa, he reached out his own gloved hand towards the now gasping brunette.
"Lady-"
A petite form of nonexistent muscle collided with his SOLDIER enhanced one.
"Please, help me!"
Good Gaia! He didn't know how to deal with people during their mental breakdown. Was it worse because she was a woman? Was he supposed to play along with whatever was going on in her mind? Did he have to slay some invisible monster? No. Think! Let's see… When dogs whined, patting them on the head always seemed to do the trick. Maybe a little bit of food. Yeah. Food! Food cheered everyone up!
He performed the quickest head pats probably known to man. When she continued to wail, he turned toward Tifa, who appeared equally baffled. What to do now?
As if hearing his puzzled thought, she unfolded herself against his chest, throwing her arms around his midsection and locked them in place. Face stuffed against his chest; she sobbed a string of muffled words.
It struck him like lighting. Veins pumped liquid fire. The burning sensation left him feeling dizzy. No. Literally. His vision blurred, as he felt as if he was on a carousal twirling out of control.
Digging his nails into the fabric of her jacket, Cloud wanted nothing more than to toss her away from him. Far away. Whatever she was doing -and he knew it was her- he wanted her to stop. "Get," he snarled down his nose at the screwball, "off…" He was cut short as ghost-like creatures materialized before his very eyes. They trapped them in a tight circle, whipping around them like demented vultures ready to snatch them off to be eaten. They were angry. Aggressive.
"Please," her cry for help was different somehow. Almost as if he was what stood between her and her death. Whether that was true or not, it awakened something slumbering within him. Weeks from now he'd look back at this moment and still wonder what it was.
A door that had been locked before was now opened.
His right hand latched onto his sword's hilt, prepared to snatch the massive blade from his back and wield it against the black balls of ghastly things. Using his left arm to wrap around the smaller woman's back, he shifted to get into a better defensive position. A good thing too. It wasn't a second after he altered their stance did one of the monster's screamed at him, with what he could only describe as a thousand tormented voices. His back was immediately relieved of its heavy weight.
"What's going on, Cloud!" Tifa squawked from behind. It was the second time he'd forgotten she was there tonight. He'd chew over that later, when he wasn't worried about getting jumped by dirty cloth balls.
"Don't get too close to them," he shouted, maneuvering his and the woman's bodies closer to Tifa.
"Get close to what?"
"What do you mean wh- can't you see them!"
"See who?"
Tifa can't see them… Why couldn't she see them? A blind person wouldn't have missed them and if they did, they'd sure as hell hear the screech of a million voices. It was a haunting sound. One he could have went the rest of his life ignorant too. Sneaking a glance at his dark-haired friend, he got visual confirmation that she couldn't in fact, see the floating horror balls. She stood fist ready and posed to fight.
"They've got us surrounded," he warned her, "so stay close." C'mon Cloud, think! How are we going to get out of this one, his inner voice vocalized. Eyes jumping back and forward between the hissing phantoms and his buster sword, he knew there was only one way to find out if they'd live beyond tonight.
Gearing up to slash at the closest creature, he just about jumped out of his skin when a voice suddenly bellowed.
"Hey! What's going on over there?"
Instantly, the mysterious apparitions vanished.
Their unknowing survivors were…ShinRa guards.
Great, so they jumped out of the fire, into the frying pan. Really, what was his life becoming?
The guards stood at the opposite end of the block shooing away any confused stranglers who got too close. So fixated on what was going on before his eyes, he had missed the alarmed bystanders passing by. If Tifa couldn't see the threatening creatures, then he was sure neither could anyone else. The sight must have scared one of them enough that they ended up alerting ShinRa. Which really said something since people of the Slums had no respect or love for the company and the people who were employed by them.
"Time to go," was his heads up to Tifa, who took the lead as they made their getaway.
Ignoring the guards demands for them to stop, Cloud's hand tightened around the slender arm that belonged to the cause of all this trouble. She huffed and puffed, trying to keep up with their fast pace. When he felt her start to lag as they cut corners and squeezed through tight spaces, he jerked her forward, carrying her when moments called for it. Fortunately for them, the guards gave up when they proved to be too much of a hassle. They probably weren't getting paid enough to chase them for long anyway.
"We'll be the talk of Sector 7 for sure," Tifa heaved, palming her stomach as she began to slow her breathing.
He wasn't looking forward to that, but they brought it on themselves speeding through the Sector like bats out of hell. No doubt he'll be gossip fuel for days.
"Definitely."
That was a new voice. Soft and bell-like. It spiked his blood because it belonged to… "You!" His blood boiled beneath his skin. "What was that back there? Huh!" Now that they weren't trying to evade jail time, all that played through his mind were those dark spectors and how no one else could see them. How he couldn't see them until she touched him.
Her mouth opened and closed, then repeated the action. "Excuse me?"
The attitude. Her attitude. There wasn't much of it in her tone, but he still didn't like the fact that it was there at all. Not after everything they've been through tonight.
"Hey, hey! Let's all cool down, alright." Tifa exclaimed, placing herself between them. It didn't stop him from beating the offended nutjob down with a fiery stare. "My name's Tifa, Tifa Lockhart. I run a bar here in this sector, 7th Haven, you might have heard of it?" Her soothing patience melted the smaller woman's coiled form. "Awesome, come in for a drink sometime," she offered once she received confirmation, "everything's on the house!"
"Thanks, and my name," the smaller woman paused, eyeing Cloud for a tense second, "it's...Aerith Gainsborough."
Aerith Gainsborough. Nice to finally have a name for the nut.
The secluded backyard they stood in fell quiet. Static charged the muted air.
Oh, right...
"Cloud," he uttered dismissively. "What were those things back there?" He wasn't going to be sidetracked. Tifa can play a nice host and do her hakuna matata gig on her own time once he gets his answers.
A light breeze swept past them. Too gentle for the agitated atmosphere.
"I-I think they're some kind of ghost,"Aerith muttered, toying with the floral pendant attached to her black necklace.
Her answer made him bitter. Everything about her and the situation from earlier soured his mood. He didn't know why it bothered him this much and he didn't care. "Great observation," she was hiding something. Her crossed arms. How she leaned away from him, turnt more towards Tifa than him. The piercing green glower she had when he spoke but morphed into apprehension when it was her turn. Yeah, she was keeping something from him. Even after he saved her, after putting Tifa's life in danger, after running off into the unknown...she thought it was fair to hide things. Cloud felt the skin around his nails give way as he tightened his fist. "Why were those things attacking you?" Let's see if she graced that with an answer.
"If I knew that then I wouldn't have needed your help!"
He hadn't expected to explode...but he did.
"Okay guys, let's take a brea-"
"That's right! You needed my help and now I want answers!" He bellowed over Tifa's failed mediation, stepping around her panicking frame to get close to the ungrateful woman.
His nearness didn't cow her like he'd thought it would, because she screeched back, "I don't have any to give!"
"The hell you do! I want to know what you dragged us into, and I want to know now, dammit!"
Cloud didn't feel sorry for anyone staying in the house next to them or anywhere else close by. They'd probably heard all kinds of things that went on during the midnight hours. One of the rules to survive in the Slums was to mind your business and if you couldn't, well then, you better be able to handle the situation. In this case, if someone had a problem with the volume of their conversation, they could take it up with the sharp end of his buster sword.
"I just told you, you hard of hearing brute!" Aerith stepped further into his personal space. Had it been any other time, he would have found the tiny terror's attempt at intimidating him funny. Instead, it only added fuel to his blazing fire.
"That's rich coming from you, a Gaia damn psychopath!"
"Psychopath!" She looked ready to take him on in a fight.
He scoffed as she went on to size him up.
"Enough" Tifa hollered, reminding them of her presence. She'd been tugging at her scalp, failing to get them to back off. "We won't get anywhere by yelling at each other," being the voice of reason, she waited for them to distance themselves like a drained mother. "Now Aerith? Is there anything you can tell us about those things? Whatever you can think of would be a big help."
He was grateful that his childhood friend was here. Her ability to commend and keep the peace was necessary in this moment. Even if she hadn't been able to see the shadowy beings, she managed to go on as if she had.
Leaving her annoyance behind, Aerith hunched her shoulders. Almost as if she were trying to make herself a smaller, unworthy target. "Every now and then…they'd come. I don't know why," she admitted tearfully, "I wish I did, but I don't!"
"Okay, okay. That's a start." Tifa rewarded the smaller woman with a smile, cautiously moving close to comfort. "Do you remember what you were doing during those times before they came?"
"Nothing really. Just selling my flowers or going to the church."
"What about tonight?"
"Well… I…"
Greens met blues.
"What?" Cloud managed to soften his tone. Whatever had been flaring his nerves and spiking his blood was gone. He could think clearly. Breathe.
"After seeing you the strangest feeling came over me." She was referring to their moment back at the alleyway. "I felt, I don't know. Cold, I guess." Brown hair bounced as she shook her head. "I thought it was some kind of warning, maybe telling me not to get close to you." She examined him from head-to-toe, face full of uncertainty.
He recalled his own feelings during that moment.
"I felt it too. But I doubt it was a warning." A brief scan of the smaller woman reinforced his beliefs that the feeling wasn't one of warning. There was nothing dangerous about a woman who can be knocked over by the wind.
"Then what else could it have been?"
Fate?
Nah…
"Not sure. I don't feel it now." He ran his fingers through his hair, gradually growing tired of the unknown and all the confusion it held. "I didn't feel it after seeing you again on the sidewalk either."
Aerith nodded. "Yeah same," then went on to confess, "it was almost like something was keeping me there, in that spot, on the sidewalk. I usually leave once I've sold my flowers. But…for some reason, I couldn't. I mean, I wanted to and when I tried…" She bit her lip, afraid to speak the next words out loud.
"Those things came," Tifa uttered instead.
Locking eyes with the bar owner, "Do you think those things can influence emotions?" Maybe those things also left behind lasting effects if they could. The same way drinking copious amounts of alcohol left people feeling hungover. That would explain his unexplainable temper.
"Sounds like it," his dark-haired friend decided readily after a few minutes of thought.
They fell silent again, but this time much more peaceful.
Bones loose and muscles tender now that Cloud was relaxed, fatigue came racing back in. His need for a shower was back. Giving his female companions a once over he found that they looked just as spent as he did. Conversation obviously over, he shifted his shoulders, ready to call it a night.
"I should head home," Aerith stated, beating him to the punch. "I'm sorry, but I've stayed out later than I usually do," glancing between him and Tifa, she continued, "my mom is probably worried." It was almost as if she was trying to convince her kidnappers to let her go.
Annoyance tickled at his skin.
"I'll walk you home." For the love of Gaia! Why did he say that?
He wasn't the only one who was shocked by the declaration. "Oh no! That's fi-" The brunette shook both her head and hands, looking as if she would much whether drink a bucket of dead mako than have him escort her home.
"It's for your own protection. Just in case those things come back." Really, he was doing this out of spite now. Had she not looked so bothered by the thought of him walking her home, he would have backed off. Now, he was going to make the snobby little nutjob suffer his presence for as long as he could.
"If you're sure?" She pouted, crossing her arms as she turned away from him.
"I am," Cloud basked in his victory. Movement to his right reminded him, "Tifa? Are you okay getting home on your own?" As he shifted his focus onto his longtime friend, he barely caught the last-minute expression draining from her face. Frustration? Disappointment? Whatever it was, it hadn't been the reassuring smile settled there now.
"I'm more than ready to take on the fool that dares cross me," she responded playfully.
Fake. She was faking it. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but footsteps heading away from where they stood made him remember the woman in pink. He once again itched with irritation. Cloud couldn't take his eyes off that buffoon for a second!
"See you tomorrow then?" He called out over his shoulder, jogging to catch up with the brunette.
"Sure thing…"
A/N: YOU MADE IT TO THE END! So how'd ya like it? Hopefully you liked it enough to keep ya' interested.
If you have anything questions...they'll be answered as we get further into the story.
Again, this is an alternate universe, so give up what you know or what you think might happen. My stories are usually hard to guess *beeps horn of self-confidence*