He was searching for me. I could feel it. The anniversary of my death always brought Cloud to the City of Ancients--to my watery grave. He would kneel at the waters edge, lightly run his fingers across the top of the pool, scouring his mind for memories of me. Whenever he did, I could sense it; this was one of those times.

As he reached out for me, I did the same, extending my my love as a tidal wave of comfort. But the Lifestream would not have it. The green snakes would engulf any communication with the conscious Cloud, and all he would recieve was an empty heart.

I didn't blame the Lifestream for discommunicating Cloud and I. If it allowed me to talk to him, anything might go through his mind--anything contained within the stream. Potentially, I could let Sephiroth enter Cloud's body and create another maniac--something that the green river feared.

But that wouldn't stop me from trying. I would never give up my struggle to be with Cloud, never stop caring for him. And yet fate seemed to have purposes for us that did not include our union. Before Cloud was able to enter the Lifestream, I would be leaving it.