This is from the end-scene. Spoilers all.
Denzel had clung to him from the moment he'd realized he was cured. He knew how much the boy looked up to him, idolized him. He could only look at the boy and nod, a fleeting smile pushing at his lips as other children jumped in and splashed around him; their laughter and joy infectious, their hands pulling and tugging on him on play. He was…glad to see them like this; the happy children they should be. He looked up at the others, slightly uncomfortable at the unusually cheerful behavior from the kids, sad as it was, and enjoying it all the same, and quickly passed between all his friends before pulling away at the amusement they were taking at his expense.
His eyes met Tifa's and he saw in them, in her smile that faded to a gentler version, the gaze he'd focused on the children on him. She was thankful, relieved he was able to smile like that, to be happy again…or for the first time. Things were alright, now. But that gaze…he looked away embarrassed, trying to hush the tell-tale breath as he did. The children. He looked down to them again, droplets breaking up against his face, and smiled. Yes, he must have looked like a lost child all those years, had felt like one, but now realized he had been one. But it felt alright, now. He felt…right…safe…at peace.
It was surreal, this level of joy. He had to look around again to make sure it was really happening, that it wasn't a dream. And he alternated between the ring around them and the children before him, trying not to make their attentions feel as if they were ignored. The world stopped again. It always did for her. The kneeling form, the movements he knew so well caught his eyes with that blessed pink material and tugged them wide. If he was seeing her, maybe it was all just a dream; a wonderful, brilliant, cursed dream that he would wake up from.
Then she stood and turned, began to walk. No, it was away from him. She was going the wrong way. A dream, then; his fear. He only ever saw her in them. She was walking away from him not to him, towards the bright and shadowed doorway. Just as he was about to wake up his body, push it into action to meet her, go after her, the shadow wrenched his attention away. It was tall, the bright light backlighting it slowing down the processing of the images of what were hair, high cheeks and a stern and caring gaze. He knew those eyes, those blue eyes.
Zack!
Pink called to him again and his eyes darted to her, her turning face and whispering voice so clear and sweet and soft against his ears. Their eyes met too briefly, but when she turned haltingly away and he was released, he was out of breath. The body movement had been smooth, almost smooth enough to mask the jagged motion of her eyes but not nearly enough to disguise the pained look he saw there. But she continued through and moved forward. And as she caught up with Zack, it took everything he had not to run at his wave, to chase after them. And as they faded into the light, he realized he wasn't supposed to. He couldn't go with them. Not yet.
But even if there weren't there with him, even if he couldn't see them, he wasn't alone.
He had family, now.