Everybody hates it when it rains in Midgar. At least those in the lower sections do. The upper crust of Midgar's society - they who live with affluence and wealth - often found the rain refreshing and cool. But in the slums and the lower sections, the rain would mix with oil and dirt and grime, and the people would find it anything but refreshing.
Aerith Gainsborough clutched the top collars of her favorite red jacket, shivering against the cold. She looked both sides of the street before crossing; the fog starting to lift up. There were only a handful of people out on the streets like her now, owing to the rain. Most were either locked up in their homes or were drinking in the bars as they were wont to do. Not much happens in lower Midgar when it rains. Aerith looked at the basket she was carrying in her right arm, crooked to her elbow. It contained a handful of flowers now; some chrysanthemums, a few yellow daisies, and a white rose. With her left hand, she patted the side pocket of her pink dress and jingled the gils which were her earnings for that day, reassuring herself that they're still there. Then, she reached into her jacket's chest pocket and got out an old but beautifully crafted pocket watch. It was her mother's gift to her when she turned ten, and she had cherished it ever since. She looked at the time and saw that it was already half past nine in the evening. Not a good time for a lone girl to be out on a rainy night in Sector 4 streets. Or any street in any sector for that matter.
Sector 4 was her favorite haunt to sell flowers. For one, it's just next to where she lived, in Sector 5. And two, she had already become a rather familiar face in that area. On average, she would be able to sell more than half of her wares and even if the kind folks there won't buy anything from her, they usually give her a friendly nod (she once tried selling in Sector 6, where Wall Market was, but the lecherous looks the men gave her there convinced her that they'd rather buy something else from her, and it's not flowers). Sector 4 also had re-runs of her favorite show, The Opera Scene, starring her favorite actress, Celes (whom, curiously, didn't have a last name. Must be a trendy actress trait, she thought). All in all, Sector 4 was a nice place to be doing her business. At least in the day.
She crossed the street hurriedly, praying that the rain won't turn into a downpour. It was bad enough that she stayed late, more than the usual, but to be late and all soaking wet, well, she can only imagine how her mother would be. "Mom'd have a fit," she thought.
When she reached the other side, the rain had started to increase and she immediately sought shelter under a dilapidated hotel's door canopy. Teeth chattering, she looked around for another place where she could make another shelter stop while going on her way. "At this rate, I'll be home by eleven," she thought to herself, biting her lower lip. "And I don't think Mom would be none too happy with it. Oh, damn that monkey!" She had been amused by a travelling showman who had a rather entertaining monkey who was quite adept at dancing a jig. The side-street show had attracted a rather huge crowd just as she was about ready to go home for the day. And, curiosity getting the best of her, she politely pushed her way through the crowd to watch. That had been three hours ago.
Just as she was about to run to an overhang on the next block, she spied a deserted side alley beside two run-down buildings and she mentally tried to remember the layout of this place. That was one advantage of working mainly on one area; you get to be familiar with most of the nook and crannies. Squinting, she vaguely remembered that the alley led out to a back street near the old, deserted church in Sector 5. It would drastically reduce the time for her to get home. She calculated mentally and came to the conclusion that if she took that route, she'd be home by half past ten, at the latest. The area was deserted, and there were hardly any lights, but she tried that way once, and met no trouble. Of course, that was during the day.
"No one would be crazy enough to hang out on a rainy night like this, anyway," she muttered to herself, convincing herself for courage laced with desperation. "And mom is probably worried sick by now..."
And with mind made up, she changed direction and ran to the dimly-lit alleyway, unaware of the shadow that watched her from the other side of the street.
Only one flickering broken street light and the occasional crack of lightning gave luminescence to the otherwise dark area when Aerith stepped in. For one brief moment, she hesitated and wondered if she had made a wise decision, but the face of her worried mother steeled her resolve. Beside her, on both sides, the rough walls of the two buildings were filled with peeling paint of what used to be brown and red and marked with numerous and ugly graffiti. Strewn cans, broken bottles and other refuse lined the sides, and farther away, an old, battered aluminum garbage can was on its side, spilling its contents of unwanted waste and trash. Even with the rain, the air stank.
She hurriedly walked the length of the alley, trying not to think of where she was. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts. They said that the dark can smell fear. And she was trying to repress the growing sense of urgency inside her. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts.
She was almost halfway to the middle of the narrow lane when she heard a sound behind her. A sinister, evil chuckle.
"Well, well, look what the rain brought in." She turned around, heart beating fast.
From out of the shadows, two figures appeared. In the dim light of the street lamp, Aerith got a glimpse of the figures. One, the one who chuckled, had a disheveled mop of messy black hair and thin, gaunt cheeks. His dark eyes had a glint of malice in them, and he was wearing a hideous grin, showing yellowed teeth. Behind him, a well-muscled dark fellow sporting a neon-green mohawk haircut was standing, idly flipping a switchblade. "Must be our lucky night, Rex," the mohawk said.
"Heheh...yeah," the one called Rex agreed.
Aerith slowly backed away, her look jumping from Rex to the other man, and then back again. She turned around and started to run.
"Hahah...where you going, missy?" Rex laughed, running after her. "Aren't ya gonna offer us your flowers?"
Aerith's eyes started to mist, her right hand clutching on the basket. That was when she felt a hand grab her left and, instinctively, she turned around and swung the basket full-force on Rex's face. A satisfying "plag!" was heard, followed by a curse of "Shit! You bitch!" Flowers flew all around; a dance of yellows and whites and reds.
She started to resume her run when lightning crashed giving light ahead and she stopped. There, standing ahead of her, blocking the way, were two more people. One was a huge, bald man covered in tattoos. A chain hang from his ear. Behind him was a long-haired man. All wore dirty leather clothes, and all had the hungry look of wolves cornering their pray.
"Uwahaha! Rex got hit by a girl!" the long-haired guy taunted.
"Shut up, Fox," Rex said, feeling the sting of the rain on the fresh cut on his cheek. "Damn bitch! You're gonna pay for that."
Rain matted Aerith's brown hair, and the cold wind blew. But it wasn't the wind that sent a chill up and down her spine. It was fear of these men, and the thought of what they would do to her. She looked left and right, the figure of a cornered prey. Breath coming in rasps, she backed away and stopped when she felt the building's wall against her skin. There was no way out.
They started closing in, and Aerith felt the cold, rough grasp of Rex's hand on her wrist. The bald man grabbed her other hand, and she felt both of her arms pressed on the wall, above her head. Rex's free hand cupped her face, hard, and he leaned close to her, breathing hard. She tried moving her face sideways, avoiding the stinking breath of the man, but it was futile.
"Y'know, we were just considering taking you fast and easy," Rex whispered menacingly. His hand groped the inside of her legs, through the partly unbuttoned lower part of her dress. "But after what you did, I think we're just gonna take our time." She heard him smell her, and he groaned. "Sweet. You smell innocent. It's good. I haven't had a fresh one in a while. Bet you haven't had anything stuck up your sweet cu--!"
"Please..." Aerith found herself begging. "...just...let me go. You can have my money..."
"Oh don't worry," Rex grinned. "We'll have your money. After we get your...flower..." And he laughed, obviously pleased that he had cracked a witty, if crude, joke. The others laughed with him.
"Dammit Rex, I can't wait any more," the bald man said, licking his lips, watching the pale skin between Aerith's cleavage. Already, he was starting to unzip his pants.
"Okay, hold both her hands, Junk," Rex said hurriedly, as if he, too, can't hold it in any longer. He positioned himself in front of her, trying to unzip his pants while, at the same time, ripping off Aerith's pink dress. His other two companions were hungrily looking at the back, eager for their turn. "You're gonna love this, babe," Rex grinned evily. "It's gonna hurt at first, but believe me, it's all gonna turn out good." Aerith's tears already started streaming down her cheeks.
Suddenly, just as Rex was about to tear off the girl's underwear, he felt something slam against his head. Hard. He turned to look, letting out a "What the fuck?!"
There, on the alley's entrance where Aerith entered a while ago, a figure was silhouetted against the street lights outside. Lightning crashed again and, for one brief moment, the figure was revealed. It was a man with a shock of long, spiky hair as dark as midnight. He was wearing a purple shirt, complementing his purple, flared pants. On his right shoulder, a studded metal pad sat. A strip of brown leather was strapped across his chest. Combat boots completed the get-up. And on his back, something big was strapped. His right hand was idly tossing a rock up and down.
"Four men against one little girl?" the man asked, raising a dark eyebrow. "And...you call yourselves men."
"Man, you're in a whole lot of hurt," Rex spat, his attention away from Aerith for a moment. "Fox, Mohawk, ice him!"
The man watched as the mohawk and the long-haired man started running towards him. Tossing the rock once, he caught it and threw it at the mohawk, who came in first. Instinctively, Mohawk tried to swat away the rock, his attention riveted for one split second. When he turned to look at the man again, he saw the man's fierce eyes before his face was covered by the man's right hand. With amazing strength, the man made a complete turn, hefting Mohawk by the face, before smashing him against the wall. Mohawk slumped on the ground, unconscious.
The man turned his attention towards Fox. The long-haired man, stunned by the way his companion was so easily dispatched, swallowed hard before taking out a chain with a small metal ball at the end. He twirled this around menacingly. The man just looked impassively at this, standing calmly, flexing his hands open and close.
With a cry, Fox threw the chain straight at the man. Dodging sideways ever so slowly, the man grabbed hold of the chain just as it whizzed by his ear. Wrapping the chain around his hand, he tugged hard, and Fox was drawn to him with a yelp. Not missing a beat, the man grabbed Fox's hand with his right and, with his left, he delivered an upward blow that broke through the man's arm. Fox let out a loud cry of pain as the sickening sound of bone breaking was heard. In the crash of the lightning, the others saw Fox's hand bent at an unnatural angle, his bone sticking out of his elbow. The man, then, grabbed the thug's face before smashing him flat on the ground. Fox didn't move after that.
Rex saw all this and he backed away. He turned to his remaining companion. "J-Junk, smash him!"
The large, bald man let out a threatening roar, displaying his large mass covered with tattoos. He walked towards the man and stopped, towering in front of him. Still roaring, he made a show of force and awesome might by flexing his huge arms up and down, his legs wide apart. He was the very figure of a large, wild bear.
The man looked up at this awesome display of might and power for a second before kicking the man's crotch with all his might. In the silence of the night, the sound of something cracking was audible. Junk crumpled to the ground.
When Rex saw this, all thoughts about ravaging Aerith left his mind. He just backed away, visibly afraid. He was holding a large switchblade in front of him, waving it threateningly at the man who was advancing towards him. "B-back away! W-whoever you are! I-I've got a knife!"
"Knife?" the man asked, rather amused. "You call that a knife? Now this...," he stopped and reached for the large object strapped on his back and held it out in front of him. And in the light of the lamp, Rex saw that it was a huge, wide, and utterly sharp broadsword. It was almost as large as the man himself, and Rex could imagine it easily cleaving a horse in two. "...is a knife."
Rex dropped his switchblade, turned around, and ran.
"Where are you going?" the man asked. "We haven't even started yet."
Aerith saw the man raise his right hand in front of him, and he saw a green materia start to glow in the man's gauntlets. In a flash, a bolt of lightning from the heavens struck the running gang member. Rex let out a yelp as he fell to the ground, his body twitching involuntarily.
The man, then, turned around and started to walk towards Aerith who, by now, was slumped on the corner, hugging her knees. The man sat on his hunches and looked at her. In the glow of the lamp, she saw that his eyes were a strange shade of blue. The man brushed away a cluster of damp hair from her face. "Are you alright?"
Aerith swallowed hard, and nodded. "Y-yes...t-thank you..."
"Can you stand up?" the man asked, offering his hand at her. Aerith took it gently, almost hesitatingly. The man helped her up.
"I'm Zack," the man said, introducing himself. "Zack Halcyon."
"A-aerith," Aerith answered. "Aerith Gainsborough."
"Where were you going before those thugs saw you, Aerith?" Zack asked.
"Home," Aerith replied, looking down.
"Alone?" Zack asked, incredulously. "At this time of the night?"
Aerith did not reply, merely bowing her head.
"Very well," Zack said, letting out a soft grin. "I suppose I will have to be your bodyguard for tonight, won't I?"
At this, Aerith looked up at him, surprise on her face. And the rain lessened.