A/N: I must confess that I've never played Final Fantasy VII. However, I have seen Advent Children three times, and I will probably never get bored of it. That being said, I genuinely hope that I did Cloud justice. When I wrote this, I had projected own inner turmoil onto him, but I went back and made thefic more relevant to the story and themes of Advent Children. There isn't a set time frame for this fic, but I like to think that these thoughts are occurring as he's speeding to wherever on Fenrir (which is a totally kickass bike). Anyway, enjoyangst at its finest.-- Hana Li
Disclaimer: I do not own FFVII or Advent Children.
Drifter
Running away, was that truly what he was guilty of? How could he be avoiding things when it constantly haunted him? The memory, the pain, the regret, the guilt, her. Trying to move on would be running away. It would be forgetting her sacrifice for the world, forgetting what she meant to him. He owed her something, something beyond vengeance. She would have never approved of that anyway, which explained the even greater emptiness he felt despite the triumph over the One-Winged Angel. That was why he left his sword in the ground, never to wield it again. The warrior in Cloud Strife had disappeared.
Now he was a lone drifting spirit. Drifting, drifting– that was what he did for the past two years. He lacked direction, a purpose. With the Geostigma, he had become a burden. The world didn't need someone like him anymore.
Yet there remained those who needed him. Tifa needed him although one could debate that as more of a wish. The orphans liked having him around too. Then, there was Rufus. Reformed or not, he wasn't going to help the former President of the company that created Sephiroth. Anyway, he never really was a SOLDIER. Cloud didn't quite trust the faith they placed in him because he didn't trust himself. Despite putting down his sword, he continued to fight within. The Geostigma served as a physical reminder of who he was, of what he could not do. He had failed as a SOLDIER, as warrior, and as a friend.
He had to leave. This was his own battle, and he didn't want them to suffer as a result of his weakness. He had already lost two people. Was he doomed to be alone? It was better to sever the remaining ties so that they didn't have to face the pain of loneliness. How ironic, considering that he and Tifa took in all these children with no families. He didn't provide them any protection, and his ineffectiveness was made evident with their disappearance. As for Kadaj and his gang, Cloud had no desire to fight them. Not that he had much of a choice.
But he did. In matters like these, there was always a choice, which separated the cowards from the valiant. He could have ignored the messages on his phones, Tifa's pleas, and Reno's insistence. Cloud finally realized the difference between haunting and confronting, forgetting and moving on, running away and walking away. Engaged in a never-ending struggle with himself, he had been avoiding the answers, not allowing himself forgiveness. He needed to face the past, just this once, so that he, and the people he cared for, had some sort of future. There was something to live for, and he could walk away from combat and not be a failure. It was time to stop fighting within and start fighting the battle outside. And he didn't have to do this alone.