Chapter 13

Vivid Nightmare

"Have a good night, Tifa."

Cloud says this, watching Tifa's legs as they slide out of the passenger side of his vehicle while he holds the door open for her. It's late January and the weather is crisp and cold, but despite the way that she's dressed for it, her best assets are still on display. She's wearing thick black leg warmers and boots under a navy blue sweater dress that looks as if it's made from the softest wool, his leather jacket topping off the entire ensemble.

Tifa smiles at him as she maneuvers out of the car, shouldering her messenger bag. Cloud gives her an easygoing smile in return, one he'd never have been able to pull together just a few months ago. She leans over, and despite the fact that they are parked out on the side of the road in front of her mansion where her father or his hired help could very well be lingering nearby, she presses a kiss to his lips before she turns and makes her way up the stone pathway to her front door.

Cloud climbs back behind the wheel, leaning back against his leather-encased seat and staring out of the driver-side window as he watches Tifa go. His eyes don't leave her back until she's disappeared completely from view and he's left to sigh with just the memory of her imprinted into his brain. He sighs, gripping the clutch and checking his mirrors before pulling his car out into the evening traffic.

It's been several months since Cloud first ran into Tifa again, since her father put him up to this job of escorting her around and effectively making him her personal protector. But it's also been a few weeks since he's managed to cross that dangerous line that once separated them from each other, that relegated her to the status of the boss' daughter and him to as the hired help. Watching Sector Seven and all of its picturesque homes pass him by as he navigates towards Midgar's freeways, Cloud can't help but let his mind drift as he thinks about what's transpired since earlier that fall, how things between him and Tifa have changed so, so much.

He thinks again of his youth and how Tifa had been an ancillary part of it, so close and yet somehow how still so far away. She was like the stars in the sky, eternally distant but seemingly near enough to touch when he reached out his hands in her direction. He remembers his elementary school days and watching Tifa from the back of the classroom where he sat with his hands in his pockets while hers were always in the air, eager to answer a question or contribute to the discussion. On the surface, he'd considered her a teacher's pet, and he admits he'd teased her to that end more than once. But deep inside he'd always admired how smart she was and how talented she had been, even at a young age playing the piano in school and showing a physical prowess on the playgrounds that always left the other boys her age in the dust.

Cloud grits his teeth as he rounds a bend of highway, streaking across an overpass that leads to the roads outside of Midgar. It's silly to think about now, but back then, he had been stubborn and arrogant, rueful over Tifa's relationships with other kids in school. She had always been so popular, and even when she'd tried to get his attention or get him to play with her and her other friends, he'd been too proud to give in to his hidden desires to be a part of their group. The only time they would ever spend together is when his and Tifa's mother would arrange for playdates, neither of them really understanding why the two women had been such close friends when they had lived such very different lives.

And that was another reason he'd let so much distance grow between them at a young age. He'd been especially resentful of Tifa's lifestyle, seeing her in expensive designer clothes or watching her and her mother pull up to their playdates in a personally chauffeured car. Cloud never understood the dichotomy of Midgar's rich and poor, of the rigid class divides that characterized the lives of those above the plate versus those who were stuck below. It stabbed at him a little more as he grew older, and when his already tentative friendship with Tifa was severed when she transferred to an elite private academy, the acrimony he felt had bled through all of his memories until he was doing everything throughout his high school years to forget who she was or who she had ever been to him.

Cloud smirks to himself as he thinks how foolish and fruitless that had been in the end. Despite how much he had tried in those days, he would be lying to himself if he tried to say that he'd never thought about Tifa. She'd crossed his mind often back them, occupied his thoughts in ways he hated to admit. On the rare occasion he'd run into her or see her from afar, especially after he'd taken up working for her father, Cloud would always feel those familiar pangs deep inside, prickling at feelings and memories he had tried so hard to bury.

But all of that had changed in recent months, spurred on by a chance encounter in the corridor of her father's mansion. In the months since he'd gone from not only being contracted by her father to watch over her, but to sliding into a secret and nondescript relationship that had spilled over into an abundance of wild and vivid passion they could no longer keep from giving in to.

It's late evening, a little past six, and Cloud traverses the highways that pass through the Midgar Wastelands, aimlessly pondering over how much has changed in just these few short months. Tifa may have been a sealed-up wish that he'd never admit to anyone he'd wanted for himself all those years ago, but now she is his and only his. But as much as he wants to broadcast this fact to the world, he doesn't dare. He tries not to think about it too much, but the reality still stands - he is dating the boss' daughter, and if they get caught, he can't even begin to imagine the hell that there will be to pay.

He's trying to clear these thoughts from his mind by driving along the highways with no direction when his PHS buzzes from its place perched on his dashboard. Cloud chances a glance at the call display, and seeing Zack's name, he lets out a sigh and turns his stereo down, activating the speaker-phone function with a swipe of his finger.

"It's Cloud."

"Hey, man," Zack grunts into the receiver. "What's your location?"

Cloud frowns slightly at Zack's gruff, straight-to-the-point greeting. It's not like him at all. "I'm just outside the city."

"Well, get your ass back here," Zack insists. "How far are you from Sector Six? We've got a situation."

Cloud's frown graduates into a full-blown grimace. He eyes the highway, spotting a nearby U-turn back towards Midgar. "Not that far. What kind of situation?"

"A Corneo situation," Zack responds without elaborating. "And not the kind I should be talking about over these phones. Anyway, Rowan called, said Lockhart wants you and I to tackle this personally."

Cloud groans, banging a fist against his steering wheel. He thinks back to a few weeks prior, to his rendezvous with Rowan and Shinra, of the dead body he'd helped dispose of in the bowels of a mako reactor. He can still smell the singe of the reactor core burning the inside of his nostrils. Cloud has always been a driver and nothing more; he can't imagine why Lockhart keeps roping him into these kinds of affairs.

"What's this got to do with me?" he asks defiantly.

Zack sucks his teeth audibly, but he doesn't answer Cloud's question. "How soon can you be in Wall Market? Near the Wutai District?"

Cloud glances up at an overhead road sign, then shakes his head in mild dismay. "Won't be long," he finally sighs in response.

"Good," Zack answers. "Meet me at Park's BBQ in an hour. It's on -"

"I know where it is," Cloud rebuffs, clicking the PHS off and hanging up on Zack.

He tugs on the wheel, hugging the bend in the road as he rounds his way back towards Midgar, turning the synth that blares from his radio up as high as he can stand it to drown out the noise between his ears.

So much for spending the rest of the night clearing his head.

It's fully dark out when Cloud pulls up in front of Park's BBQ in the heart of Wall Market, deep in the Wutai District in the northern section of town. He finds parking on the street not far from the eatery's main entrance, and he blows out a slightly frustrated sigh as he steps out of the car and looks around.

Wall Market is always bustling and busy with people, but for some reason, tonight it feels like the Undercity is stifled by the packs of people that move through its narrow streets. Cloud bristles as he hits the pavement, veering out of the way of the throngs of passersby with his hands slung deep in his pockets.

Park's BBQ is a narrow establishment that is only announced by the brightly lit neon sign that reads BBQ - 고기구이 out front. The windows are tinted and dim, and Cloud squints slightly as he pulls open the front door, his eyes adjusting to the fluorescent lighting as he steps inside.

At first glance, the interior gives away the appearance of an ordinary barbecue joint. Cooks are stationed in a line behind a counter that cordones one wall, flipping and chopping meats and vegetables over range stovetops. A row of customers sit on stools at the counter, conversing in boisterous and drunken tones as they watch their meals being prepared.

Cloud ignores their chatter and the sizzles and pops of food cooking, finding Zack standing at the back of the restaurant with his arms crossed over his chest. Spotting Cloud across the room, he nods at him, and Cloud makes his way in his direction without a second glance around him. Zack pushes away from the wall when Cloud approaches, gesturing to a door in the corner.

Wordlessly, Cloud follows Zack inside, passing into a dark corridor that's poorly lit, a single, uncovered light bulb hanging from the ceiling above. The air suddenly smells dank and moldy, as if water has been sitting stagnant for a long time.

When the door closes behind them, Zack glances over his shoulder briefly. "Glad you could make it. Listen, just a heads up before we get down there. This place is… a little unconventional."

"Unconventional?" Cloud repeats, raising an eyebrow.

Zack sighs audibly, bringing them to a narrow and steep staircase that leads to the floor below. "Just... Keep your wits about you. This is one of Corneo's joints, a place for some of his more debauched proclivities. We're here to gather intel and that's it."

He stops at the landing of the stairs, turning to face Cloud. Cloud crosses his arms over his chest and stares back at him.

"What's the intel?" he asks straightforwardly.

Zack chances a careful glance behind him, then looks back at Cloud. "Lockhart is under the impression that Corneo is using the pleasure business to cover up his shady dealings with Shinra."

"Shinra?" Cloud repeats, thinking back to the night with Rowan a few weeks ago, to the stoicism of the Turks and the sly look on Rufus Shinra's face.

Zack looks around again almost nervously, even though it is apparent they are alone in this corridor. "It's about mako," he whispers.

Cloud is growing impatient, and he taps his foot in indication. "What does mako have to do with anything?" he asks. Mako is the energy source that Shinra has been mass-producing from the planet's core for at least three decades. He wrinkles his brow, unable to imagine what public energy has to do with the criminal underworld.

"Drugs," Zack informs him cooly, keeping his voice low. "This is what's got Lockhart and Rasberry so worked up. Shinra and Corneo entered some deal and now Corneo is flooding this new mako-dope all throughout the slums. It's pushing out Lockhart's business and we're losing gil and territory. We're on the brink of war."

This is the part of this work that Cloud never wanted anything to do with. It's the part of the business that he figures is the reason both of his parents are dead. It's the part of the business that he wishes he could keep Tifa away from, despite the fact that her father is the ringleader of it all.

It's the reason he's only ever wanted to drive.

"But why?" he asks. He can't help his curiosity, even though his gut is beginning to plunge. "Since when does Shinra get involved with controlled dangerous substances? Why would they be working with Corneo, instead of shoving Public Security up his ass?"

Zack shakes his head and turns away, making for the stairs. "That's exactly what Rowan wants us to find out," he says. "Just keep your head down while we are down there, alright? Act like you're enjoying yourself and don't give any dork vibes, alright?"

Cloud rolls his eyes. "Why did Rowan insist we handle this personally?" he asks as they make their way down the stairs.

To that, Zack laughs. At the bottom of the steps, they approach another door, and Cloud can hear the dull pulse of loud music from within. He pulls it open, tossing a grin over his shoulder to Cloud as dim lighting and a haze of smoke greets them from the other side.

"Cause we're handsome young men," he chides.

Cloud follows Zack inside, his eyes widening somewhat as they enter. The space becomes another world from the hallway they've just left, a sprawling room showered in pale yellow lighting from low-hanging ceiling lamps, leather couches and glass tables lining the space. Music blares from unseen speakers, and there is a small dance floor in the center of the room where people rock back and forth together.

But that isn't what captures Cloud's attention, or what has his eyes grow wide. All across the room, people are engaged in… acts. Men with women, women with women, men with men. Couples and groups of three and four and more. Bodies pressed together, limbs tangled, skin exposed. They dance, they kiss, they pull each other's clothes away, and they touch in ways that have Cloud's cheeks hot.

"Be cool," Zack instantly warns, seeing the way that Cloud internally panics. "Just be cool."

"What the fuck is this?" Cloud can't stop himself from blurting.

Two beautiful women with their hair done up in high ponytails pass by, carrying trays of drinks in one hand. They are both smothered with makeup and glitter, and they are dressed like bees, with tight leotards and fishnet stockings with little stingers attached to their backsides. One of them smiles at Cloud, and he nearly yelps when she reaches behind him and squeezes his ass on her way past.

"Cute," she comments with a laugh.

Zack himself chortles. "Corneo's underground playground," he responds. "They call it the Honey Pot."

Cloud's eyes are beginning to adjust to the dense lighting, and as he looks around, he notices that many of the women who are acting in the capacity of servers or assistants are wearing the elaborate honeybee costume. But he does a double take when he turns and catches a blond woman in a floor-length red gown lounging on a leather couch with two much, much younger men kissing all over her and undoing the buttons of her dress.

"Is that Weapons Director Scarlet?" he asks incredulously.

Zack makes a face, shaking his head. "A perfect target," he answers. "Look, there's for sure other Shinra suits hanging around here. It's a favorite haunt of the company's top brass. The ones at the top always have the weirdest kinks, man."

Cloud wrinkles his nose in disgust, really not wanting to hear this. He turns away from Scarlet when the sight of her fleshy breast pops out of her dress, one of the young men flanking her latching onto it with his mouth.

"What are we supposed to be doing here?" Cloud grouses in frustration.

Zack thrusts his hands into his pockets, giving the room a quick scan with his sky-blue eyes. "Just relax," he says. "Act like you're here to have a drink and enjoy yourself, same as any other Tom, Dick, or Scarlet here."

"I'm not touching any of these…" Cloud trails off in complaint as another honeybee passes him by, this time squeezing his bicep.

"Sex-workers, I believe is the politically correct term," Zack finishes for him with a wink. "Look, we're here to collect intel. Find the Shinra goonies and listen. People love to talk to their courtesans."

To this, Cloud rolls his eyes.

"We should split up," Zack finally suggests. "There are more rooms beyond this one, too. I'll stay here and see if I can pick up any dirt on the Weapons Director. I'm sure you'll be able to get something out of even a Shinra middle manager. But we can't go back to your girl's dad without some information."

"Fine," Cloud mutters, mostly to himself, watching as Zack makes his way into the crowd.

Irritated and extremely uncomfortable, Cloud steels his nerves and begins to walk through the Honey Pot, keeping his eyes down but casually observing the patrons who fill Corneo's illicit brothel. The clientele here are certainly not slum residents - they are all dressed in fancy and expensive threads, three-piece wool suits and tailored dresses, even though many of them are halfway out of their clothes. It is obvious to Cloud that most of the folks who are taking advantage of Corneo's proclivities work for Shinra, the largest middle and upper-class employer in the city.

He sighs and takes his chances, knowing what Zack said is true. If Lockhart and Rowan Rasberry are insisting they find intel before they return, Cloud knows they best deliver. In this business, there is no room at all for failing the mission.

A honeybee approaches him with a warm smile and tray in hand. She's brown-skinned with curly hair that is styled high on the top of her head. She leans in close, offering the tray in his direction.

"You must be new here," she states with a giggle. "You have the lost look on your face of every first-timer. How can I help you?"

"Uhh…" Cloud stammers, scratching the back of his neck. Don't be a dork, he warns himself in Zack's voice.

The woman laughs again. "It's alright," she assures him. "I'm Folia. Here, why don't you have a drink, and I'll bring you to the Group Room. It's a nice, casual place, low stakes, until you figure out exactly what you want to do here."

"Group Room?" Cloud repeats, already not liking the sound of it.

Folia smiles, showing off beautiful, straight white teeth. "Don't worry," she reassures him again. She hands him a tall, purple and blue drink from her tray. "It's very relaxed. Follow me."

Cloud accepts the drink, and despite his urge to protest, he remembers the task at hand and follows Folia through the room, passing into another corridor that is carpeted in plush, deep reds. Rooms with gilded doorways line the hall, and Folia stops at one where the door is wide open.

"It's very casual, she informs him again. Go on. I'll come back in a bit and refill your drink."

She leaves him there, and Cloud walks in, scoping out the room with one clean sweep of his eyes. Like the main space, the room is full of couches and soft seating, but the music is much lower and filters a calm, classical tune through the overhead speakers. In this room, guests lounge with drinks in their hands, conversing in light tones with one another or with some of the honeybee boys or girls who work the room. A few people offer him smiles, but otherwise, no one pays attention to him as he enters.

In one corner, though, Cloud spots a recognizable face. A handsome, goateed man in a dark suit sits alone on a chaise, leaning against the armrest. His tie and the top three buttons of his shirt are open, exposing a dark tuft of chest hair. Behind him, another beautiful honey girl with dark hair massages his shoulders as he sips a tumbler of whiskey.

Reeve Tuesti, Shinra's Director of Urban Planning, Cloud realizes almost immediately.

Blinking in disbelief, Cloud spies another small loveseat just within earshot of where Tuesti sits. Deciding to take his chances, he makes his way in that direction, taking a seat and leaning in to try and eavesdrop.

This shit better be worth it, Cloud thinks as he pulls back a sip of the fruity purple drink.

"It's gotten to the point where I just don't know what to do anymore, Christiana," he catches Tuesti suddenly sigh. "I'm worried that everyone in my department is going to lose faith in me as a leader if I don't put a stop to this."

"Oh, Reeve," the honeygirl sighs dramatically. "You're doing great! Everyone can see it, darling."

Cloud resists the urge to roll his eyes at her theatrical performance. Instead, he settles in, hoping to fill in the blanks of the conversation.

"You have got to be the prettiest boy I've seen walk in here all year."

A woman has slipped onto the loveseat beside him, and her sudden intrusion captures Cloud's attention. She's not a honeygirl, but a stunning older woman, at least in her thirties or early forties. She's dressed in a revealing kimono and her dark hair is swept up and coiled gracefully with chopsticks on the top of her head. "When did you slip in?"

"Um, I…" Cloud finds himself stuttering again.

"Nevermind," The woman dismisses him, almost as if she is annoyed. She waves a paper fan back and forth in front of her face, her eyes rolling back. "The point is, you're here. And you are just full of tension. You must work a very stressful job, no, my love?"

You don't know the half of it, Cloud thinks ruefully.

She laughs when he doesn't answer. "How about a massage?" she suggests with a wink. "I promise, it will soak up all of the strain and spit it right out of you."

Cloud glances back at Reeve, who now has his eyes closed as the honeygirl works his shoulders. It's not a bad idea, he figures. It'll help him blend in so he can concentrate and get this job done, at the very least.

"Yeah, sure," Cloud finds himself grumbling.

The woman sets her fan down, then reaches for Cloud's hand. He tries to pull back, but she doesn't relent. She's far stronger than he's expecting, and he's stunned when she pulls his leather glove right off of his fingers.

"Wh-what are you doing?" he demands, his voice cracking.

The woman glances up at him coquettishly, taking his hand in both of hers. "A hand massage," she informs him. "Trust me, it will be worth every second. Now shut up."

Cloud is so shocked that he does exactly what she says. Her fingers dig into the soft flesh of the center of his palm, and he tries desperately to stifle the moan that threatens to escape his mouth. Her strength is evident in the way that she grips him, and despite the conflicted way he feels about this entire situation, he has to admit that it feels pretty damn good.

"That's it," she murmurs, rolling his hand between hers and pulling his fingers against her index finger and thumb. "Just relax."

Cloud tries to shut her out and concentrate on fishing for information from Reeve Tuesti while she massages his hand. He hears the Shinra executive clear his throat, and he cranes his neck in that direction, keeping his eyes closed.

"I worry about the president's decisions," Reeve says. "They aren't sound. And I worry even more about his son. I think that Rufus has his own agenda."

"Is that right?" Christiana the honeygirl asks, almost unable to conceal her boredom.

"It's the dope," Reeve states blandly as if the word itself leaves a bad taste in his mouth. "I received an order from the seventieth floor to open up transport routes to unauthorized carriers. At first, I didn't know what it was for, but during a routine inspection, we discovered cases of vials of concentrated street-mako, needle-ready and prepped for immediate distribution."

"Hmm," Tuesti's honeybee agrees, working his shoulders more deeply.

At that moment, Cloud hears his knuckles crack, and he winces with pain.

"Shh," the woman massaging his hand scolds him.

"I reported it, of course," Tuesti goes on. "The president called me to his office personally. Told me to leave the routes open and to release the trucks. And that night, I got a call from Rufus, who told me if I interfered again, he'd have my neck."

"That's terrible, baby!" Christiana exclaims.

Cloud is trying to process all of this, but the woman squeezes his hand so hard that he nearly blacks out. He sits up with a start, hissing in pain.

"What the hell?" he demands.

The woman laughs and gets to her feet. "Consider that one on the house, pretty boy," she taunts. "You look so much more relaxed already. Well, I've other clients to tend to. Enjoy your stay."

Dumbfounded and dizzy, Cloud watches her go, flexing his hand until he feels the blood circulate normally again.

"I don't know what to do," Tuesti laments behind him.

"I do," the honeygirl states, getting to her feet. Cloud watches as she takes Reeve Test's hand, pulling him along with her. "Let's go to one of the Fuck Rooms, hmm? You've had a long week, sir."

Cloud tries not to throw up in his mouth.

Tuesti doesn't protest, and Cloud watches as he follows the honey girl out of the Group Room. He shakes his head and pours over the information he's gathered hoping it's enough.

It had better be, he thinks as he pulls his glove back on. He's sick of this place already.

He pulls out his PHS, sending a quick text to Zack that he's found some info and that he thinks it's time for them to go. But before he gets a response, a flash of purple and black in the hallway beyond catches his eye.

"Tifa?" Cloud hears himself say out loud.

It doesn't make any sense, but Cloud's eyes have never lied to him. He just saw Tifa pass by. He would never mistake the sight of her, he knows those legs and that body and that hair and especially that face anywhere.

And all of it was on display, Tifa wearing a short, tight, flimsy little purple slip of a dress.

What the fuck is Tifa doing in a place like this?

His brain doesn't give him room to process because Cloud is instantly at his feet, Reeve Tuesti and this entire endeavor forgotten as he vacates the Group Room. Stepping into the main hallway, he catches sight of Tifa just as she turns a corner, her long dark hair swishing behind her, two men in dark leather jackets flanking her side as they pull her along.

"Tifa!" he can't stop himself from calling out.

But she's already disappeared.

A million horrific thoughts enter Cloud's mind at that moment. He knows exactly what kind of place this is, and he knows the conflict between Don Corneo and Tifa's father. What if she's been kidnapped and forced into sex trafficking? Cloud has heard stories of women being nabbed off the street and sold to Wutain warlords across the world to be sex slaves and raped, or worse.

Cloud is instantly panicked, his blood rushing in his ears as his mind runs through the litany of every terrible scenario. Without even thinking, he jogs down the corridor, following the direction that Tifa went.

He turns the corner, but there's no sight of her, just more doors lining the walls and an exit at the far end. His mind racing, he debates the most effective strategy to try and locate her. He's hedging his bets on breaking down every door when one of them opens, two girls he instantly recognizes stepping out.

Aerith and Jessie.

They are both dressed for the environment in gaudy, revealing dresses of pink and red. And they are both wearing ostentatious amounts of makeup, glitter and sparkles all over their skin. For whatever reason, the sight of them instantly makes Cloud feel sick.

"Cloud?" Aerith balks at once, turning to face him, all of the color draining from her face.

Cloud marches in their direction, and he doesn't miss the way that Jessie suspiciously tries to turn heel and walk away. Angered by this reaction, Cloud catches up to her and quickly grabs her wrist, pulling her back.

"Aerith! Jessie!" he exclaims. "What the hell is going on? Are you hurt? Who did this? Where is Tifa?"

Aerith's mouth drops open at the rapid fire of his questions as if she is going to speak, but no words form. She glances at Jessie for help, but Jessie just shrugs, shaking her head.

Cloud turns away from Aerith, taking Jessie by both arms. "What the hell are you guys doing here? Where did Tifa go!"

He doesn't realize it, but he is shaking Jessie in anger. She pulls away and he quickly releases her.

"The better question is, what are you doing in a place like this?" Jessie asks nastily.

Cloud takes a threatening step toward her.

Jessie finally throws her hands up, glancing at Aerith hopelessly. "Oh, fine! Crazy boyfriend! Tifa was picked by the Don. She's going to his mansion."

Cloud blinks, unable to make sense of her words. "What do you mean, picked by the Don?" he bleats in total disbelief. "His mansion? For what?"

Jessie glances at Aerith. Neither girl says anything.

"I will call Elmyra right now," Cloud threatens.

Aerith bursts into tears, covering her face with her hands. "AVALANCHE!" she blurts. We came here for AVALANCHE! We got information about Corneo and Shinra, and we wanted to find out more. This was the only way. It's the only way to stop them!"

"It was Tifa's idea," Jessie chimes in unhelpfully.

Cloud's head is beginning to spin. The ugly scenarios he was playing in his mind moments ago have escalated into a full-on horror show. Tifa being brought to Corneo's mansion can only mean one thing.

One terrible, awful thing.

"Dumbasses," he swears at the girls before he pushes between them, running for the exit at the end of the hall.

Outside, the air has grown even colder with the night's chills than it was when he'd first arrived. The exit took him to a stairway that led up and out to the rear of the restaurant, and Cloud catches sight of Tifa and the two goons escorting her just as they turn the corner to the street out front.

Cloud resists the urge to shout her name, not wanting to give her position away. But he's overflowing with rage, every cell in his body charged and ready to give in to the urge towards violence. He's angry at Lockhart and his shady business, angry at Shinra and Corneo for their corruption and depravity and angry at AVALANCHE for putting these girls at risk. He's angry at Jessie and Aerith for getting Tifa involved in this, angry at Tifa for being so passionate and impulsive and also so stupid.

But most of all he's angry at himself. Angry for failing to protect her, for letting her get in this mess in the first place.

Now, she could be raped or seriously hurt, or worse. And her father was for certain going to kill him.

He tries to push that thought from his mind, keeping his concentration on tailing Tifa to the street. When they reach the curb, Cloud hangs back in the shadows and watches as the two goons bring her to a black SUV. Corneo's face, in cartoonish style, is painted to the side of the vehicle, proudly displaying its ownership.

One lackey gets behind the wheel, while the other opens the door for Tifa. She climbs in, and he closes the door behind her, getting in the passenger seat up front.

While the engine roars to life, Cloud carefully runs up to the vehicle. He waves his hand in the air and Tifa catches sight of him from the window, turning to face him and her eyes growing wide when she spots him.

Cloud stops in his tracks, his heart thundering in his chest, his fingers numb with pain. It feels as if all the blood has frozen in his body, and he worries if his heart is still pumping. But he feels it shatter when Tifa's face falls, her eyes sad and melancholic as she shakes her head at him and then turns away.

The SUV pulls from the curb then, blending into the night's traffic.

His fury is surging viciously through every neuron again. Glancing across the street and spotting his own vehicle where he'd parked it, Cloud runs for it and gets behind the wheel, not even bothering with his seatbelt before he is pulling out into traffic and following behind the truck that is carrying the love of his life away.

He pulls back on the gearshift, his boot flooring the gas as the rage explodes in his head.

Fuck that, he thinks. No matter what it takes, he's not letting Tifa set foot in Don Corneo's mansion.

He'll do whatever it takes.