Six years.
Six years she'd waited. Waited for a sign, for absolution, for anything that'd give her a hint when things might begin, only so that they could finally come to an ending, it was a dismal way to live. Dismal life in an equally dismal city. Whatever pain that was to come was incidental. She knew her life's end, and she'd accepted it. After six, long years of waiting, what else was she to do? She'd found reason enough to continue existing and she'd been determined to live every moment to its fullest. After all, she didn't have much time left. "How very pessimistic..." she thought to herself, idly chewing on her lip as she struggled through the rush hour crowds.
In the grand scheme of things, six years was not a long time at all but it had seemed that way. Six years of waiting that had started the night she felt the surge souls, all crying out at once as they rushed into the lifestream. She'd never really slept well since that night. The sounds of those screams as they faded away into nothingness...it was too much. Their voices were harsh, sharp and soundless. They were without lips, without ears and eyes and feeling, and with no one else to share their pain, they gave it to her, the last living cetra who could hear them. The only one besides the lonely planet beneath her feet that'd hear their dying pleas and feel the stillborn agony of their untimely deaths, it was too much too bear.
After all these years, she could still hear the sound in her ears, even though there was no actual sound to hear. Those mournful wails haunted her, along with the visions they sent to her as their souls merged within the lifestream.
Aeris pulled on a lock of hair, fidgeting uncomfortably as she waited for the light to turn. Pushing the button on the corner lamppost again, she tried not to notice how much the noise of the city sounded like those wails. Simply walking through the city had become a rather nauseating affair since that night. The sound of so many people in one place all speaking at once as they mulled together, it was the living twin of the screeching dead and too often, it brought back things she didn't want to think of. Horrors she had tried to push behind her eyes, far away to where they wouldn't go, to where she wouldn't see them. Nothing haunted her so much as those visions she'd had of that night. The dead, they'd shown her to let her know what she was fighting and what she would be fighting for. They'd sent her a nightmare of blood and fire that rivaled the one she had of her own death.
Seeing herself neatly impaled on a sword paled in comparison with what those fading wraiths had shown her. Her death no longer plagued her, as she rarely dreamt of it since that night. In many ways she wished to go back to just having dreams of her own demise, somehow it was more comforting than the lingering images of horror that played behind her eyelids nightly.
Something had happened, something terrible. She had an idea of what had happened. The magnitude of the event itself wasn't lost on her, but she wished she knew where it happened. When she'd woken up the next morning, she'd scanned the headlines in hopes of finding out what had happened. So many souls entering the lifestream like that could only mean that many people had died. For there to be so many an entire village would have to have been wiped out. If that were true, then it'd have to be in the papers but it wasn't. The news was entirely devoid of a tragedy, at least tragedy of that scale. If she didn't know that it happened, she'd have thought herself mad.
Of course, if she were try to explain it to anyone else, they'd call her crazy and there were days when even she wondered. Especially in the week after the dream, when she was so desperate to prove to herself that it hadn't happened, that it was just a nightmare, nothing more. It wasn't until she confirmed it with the planet itself that she knew with one hundred percent certainty that her nightmare was quite real. If that wasn't enough, the occasional flickers of remembrances that were not her own had convinced her.
As a cetra, she was used to the feeling of souls as they entered and exited the lifestream and the strange after effects of such happenstances. It was all apart of the natural cycle of birth and death, which ran in a complete and endless circle. She could feel it moving even now, though it was thankfully muted by the pollution of the city. It was one of the rare times she was grateful she lived in Midgar. Even so, the feeling of souls as they entered the lifestream in death was very unpleasant.
If she were to assign a physical feeling to the sensation it would likely be cold, sticky and a bit slimy. The birthing of a soul was somewhat the opposite. It was still uncomfortable but less disruptive than death. It was bright, but too bright. Sort of like looking into an uncovered light for too long. The strangest thing about the whole experience was that in birth or death she was left with the flickering memories and emotions of the souls as they touched her own.
Very rarely did she actually touch a birthing soul with her own, because they reached for life. They had everything to gain and nothing to hold them back because their life was just beginning. Whereas, the dying soul had everything to lose, it was afraid of being forgotten and it envied those still living. So they would tear at the walls within the lifestream in an attempt to remain as they were. They'd push their memories inside her as if that'd keep apart of them alive, even if it were inside someone else.
Most of the time, she was able to hide the effects such occurrences had on her. There was a time when she'd tell others but that only earned her the reputation of being a loon. When she was younger, seeing the dead as she did had been unnerving and she had needed to share it. It was so hard back then. She remembered the first time it had happened...when she saw and felt her very first apparition. It had shared visions of its life and death with her, and then it shuffled forward, its ragged arms outstretched. The wraith had begged for her help, pleading with her because it didn't want to let go.
It had wanted her to help it hang onto what little it had left and she had run away. She'd launched herself into Elmyra's arms, sobbing so hard she wasn't even able to articulate what had happened. Shortly thereafter, she'd heard the planet for the first time, accompanied by the soothing voices of her ancestors. They told her many things, they'd helped her but even then, she never forgot the terror that she'd felt. Never forgot a single soul that and scraped against her own in a desperate bid for life.
She'd learned much as time went by. Most souls were content with their lot in life and death. It was really only the souls of those who hadn't accepted their deaths that fought against the planet's natural cycle. If a soul died peacefully, with no regrets, it simply slipped into the lifestream quite happy to be reborn. However, if a soul was taken into death violently, they tended to cling more tenaciously to the strings of their former existence. This was why they'd send her those memories and why they'd pursue her so viciously.
It was especially bad during the war years, when millions of dead on both sides fell screaming into the void. She'd been relieved once the war had finally ended. Not only because she hated violence as a rule but also because it meant fewer aimless dead reaching out for her in the darkness. Things returned to normal working rhythm again and she'd forgotten the terror and dread of those years. The fear that lay behind every corner, that was, until that night six years ago. It had brought everything back in one fell swoop.
She'd never forget the date. March eleventh. Almost a full month after her birthday, which was coincidentally when she'd first met Sephiroth. Since that day, she'd kept track of him. Sephiroth still had a flickering amount of humanity in him. It was hard for her to pinpoint his location in the lifestream, but at the time, she could still do it. There were a handful of reasons why she did this but the most important was she wanted to.
Maybe it was wrong but since the day she'd met him, pity had filled her heart. She felt sorry for him. A man by clear definition, who'd been treated like an animal, a man who'd become a monster, not because he wanted to but because it had been forced upon him since the day of his birth. He should have been innocent, as all human souls are when they're born but fate dealt him a cruel hand. He was a soul that understood nothing about life, and because of this, he'd become an ally of death. And he understood nothing because he was shown nothing. He'd seen hell, looked into its gaping maw and it slowly drove him further and further into darkness. It was all he saw and having seen nothing but death, he didn't understand how important life was. He didn't see the importance of everything and so he'd drag the world into oblivion because of it.
The fault lay in the selfish desires of men, those men who had created him. Men who wanted power. Men who wanted to harness creation and bend it to their will, the fools. She hoped the humans that infected him with Jenova would die a slow and painful death. It wasn't in her nature to wish such a thing, but for all the suffering they'd cause, they deserved it.
On that date, she'd lost track of him and she knew why. The Jenova he'd been infected with had taken hold of him. The Crisis had been awakened; it had taken control of her vessel and used it. The something terrible that happened, it had involved him somehow. He'd fallen, she could feel it. It was like...he was just gone. Not dead, not reborn, it was as if his life force had just vanished. Disappearing into the foliage of the lifestream like a chameleon in the rainforest. It was then that she knew. Her days were numbered and every second that ticked away was one more second closer to the date of her own death.
For a nanosecond she'd hoped that maybe she was wrong. That all those souls that left entered the lifestream in cacophonous agony hadn't been the sign she'd been looking for and that Sephiroth hadn't been the one to cause it. Then the planet had to go and be a bastard, and confirm it.
"It is the beginning of the end child. Prepare yourself."
She tried to enjoy what time she had left. Despite the initial drama of that night, six years passed in relative quiet. The little arrangement that Tseng had made six years previous had worked out well. The Turks no longer bothered her much. Except for the occasional, unwarranted visit from Reno that was for the most part social. She tried to be annoyed with him but a part of her didn't mind quite as much as she pretended. Sometimes he'd bring Rude along, not that she could tell, him being so quiet and all. Most of the time he came alone, and with no explanation for why he came at all, not that she cared if there was one. She supposed he was lonely or something. It was nice to have the company and anyway, he was really the only person she had that was close to being a friend. Someday, she knew they'd be on opposite sides again and the part of him that was her friend would become her enemy, all the same she still appreciated his company.
She hadn't really seen Tseng in about six years, except for the not-so-anonymous card he'd always send on her birthday. She wasn't a language expert, but she only knew one person in the world who spoke and wrote in fluent Wutanese. And being that the anonymous card sender signed his name in a bunch of Wutanese characters, who the hell else could it be? According to Reno he was "hella busy", his words, not hers. He never elaborated what it was Tseng was so busy with and she never asked, not really wanting to know the answer.
Elmyra was the same, as always. Cheerful but occasionally dour when it came to finances but Aeris didn't blame her, they had reason to worry. Midgar was becoming an increasingly dangerous city to live in. There had always been agitators who hadn't liked how Shinra ran things, but recently their discontent had reached new levels. A new terrorist group had formed and they were more organized, more determined to take down Shinra than the groups before them. They called themselves Avalanche and they'd begun bombing Mako reactors.
She didn't approve of their methods, but they meant well or at least she hoped so.
Of course, because of the bombings, the cost of living went up. The rich were getting richer. The poor were getting poorer. And Aeris and her mother felt it right in their pocketbook. Not only did everything cost more, but Aeris had found it increasingly more difficult to make ends meet with the meager earnings she made selling flowers. It had always been difficult but now it seemed almost impossible. She never made much money to begin with and that was when she had a permanent home for her business, if you could call it that.
About two years ago, Fennyman's Drugs closed its doors. Mr. Fennyman had passed away and his widow was too afraid to man the store alone. She was old, the city wasn't as safe as it had been before, and she just couldn't afford to run shop with things the way they were. She'd sold it to a large commercial chain and moved to Kalm with the proceeds.
Fennyman's then became the Umbrella Corner Store. She supposed that the name was supposed to evoke the protection an umbrella provided and the homey atmosphere of the corner store it had already been. The problem being that the Umbrella Corner Store did NONE of those things. In fact, the personnel she'd dealt with in that store were aloof and downright rude. They'd taken down and destroyed her flower stand.
"Umbrella Incorporated doesn't allow solicitation on its premises, Miss," or so said the very snotty manager when she questioned her.
It wasn't like she was being unreasonable. She'd only asked where her stand was, and if she could continue to sell flowers there, then the manager got all snippy with her. To add insult to injury, as she was leaving the manager had shouted at her back that if she needed a job they were hiring.
"Your neighborhood Umbrella of protection, my ass." She mumbled to herself dully as she stood in place watching the endless line of cars.
The light finally turned and she crossed the street. She followed the crowd, but she highly doubted they were thinking about the things she was. They didn't know. They'd never know. A part of her was irritated by this. At the same time, she couldn't expect them to know what she did. It'd be like wishing the sky a different color. She couldn't change the world. She couldn't grow a heart in the shell of a heartless person, even she wasn't so talented.
What had happened hadn't made her happy, but there was little she could do about it. In the end, it was just another signal to her that Midgar was changing and not for the better. There was no place in the city for tiny, hometown stores. No place for a little flower stand. No place for friendly informality. And it most certainly wasn't a place for good, decent, hardworking people. Most had fled for smaller towns and only the most stubborn and hardy stayed. Aeris was one of those stubborn people and she was determined not to leave for two reasons. Number one, because the planet hadn't told it was time to yet. And number two, she'd be damned before she let the heartless people of this world win.
It was a hard transition for her, because she had to find a new place to sell her flowers. The stand she'd decorated with carefully made arrangements was of the past. She gave up finding a permanent replacement for that stand and settled for becoming a wandering flower seller. It brought in far less money but it was either this or work for an Umbrella Super Store, and she'd burn in the fiery pits of hell before she'd do that.
When Reno questioned her about it, she'd replied that it was all a part of her five year plan to become a hobo. Reno didn't really find her joke all that funny. She thought it was hilarious, and mentioned it in his presence as much as she could. It wasn't like she was serious about it and just because she looked like a goody-two-shoes, didn't mean she couldn't occasionally engage in a bout of bitter sarcasm and half meant scorn at her own situation. After all, it was her situation, not his. She could laugh at herself if she wanted to.
She'd explained it to him as best she could, but god help him, he was slow. With her stand she'd almost felt like a legitimate merchant. Now with her wandering from street to street with her basket in hand, shouting "Flowers for sale!", she was no better than a panhandler. It irritated her. Sales had gone down. They were worse then they had been before, in fact. Most days, she was okay with it. She ambled around with her flowers, shouting at the wind in the vain hope that someone might take pity on her and buy one. But there were some days when it was hard to even get up. Those were the days when her five year hobo plan didn't sound so laughable.
He finally gave up on arguing with her about it but she could tell by the look on his face he wasn't pleased with her. He'd told her it was dangerous selling in the streets like that and she knew it, but what choice did she have? None. She had to work and though she disliked it, she'd do what she had to. He'd answered back that she could get a real job like everyone else, edging back into that old argument of her becoming a legitimate Turk again. She'd politely refused and he backed down, but she knew there was a part of him that hadn't given up on convincing her.
Ever since Fennyman's closed, she had made the entertainment district of Midgar her semi-permanent haunt. She tried to cover as much ground as she could, but she found that the entertainment district was where she made the best bank. It was harder to sell flowers in the business and shopping districts, as there were lots of stores all over the place to compete with. Most tourists and mid-day shoppers felt more comfortable buying flowers from a stall or a store. They tended not to trust a wandering merchant such as herself. Customers in the entertainment district were a bit less discriminating and a bit more desperate. There were very few vendors in the entertainment district. Most of the space was taken up by small galleries and theatres, and a few very trendy restaurants.
Selling flowers to these customers was easy because they were the gift of choice in the entertainment district. They bought them for the one of the actors in a play, to decorate the refreshment stand at a gallery opening or for their best girl or boy as it were. Whatever the reason, she could usually sell out her entire basket on a Friday or Saturday night, and that was a good thing.
The light changed and she crossed quietly, humming a tune under her breath. It was lost to the steady murmur of the busy city, becoming one more voice, one more note in Midgar's dissonant song. Melding with the crowd, she smiled as she passed the largest theatre in town. The Paladin was the last of a dying breed. One of the oldest buildings in Midgar, it was the grand old lady of the theatre district. It had been around for as long as anyone could remember, and it would probably be around for many, many years to come. The Paladin had been one of the first structures built on the upper plate.
When it was built, it was considered a remarkable feat of engineering. Lightweight and graceful, the building was surprisingly sturdy and it had been installed with the most brilliant acoustics any actor could wish for. It was said you could whisper on its stage and still hear it in the very back row. And it didn't just boast superior design; the Paladin was a luxurious palace, a playground for the ultra rich to mingle with the young and promising. Anyone who was anyone had either played on the Paladin's stage or dreamed of it. As a performer, you couldn't really say you made it until your debut on its stage and as an audience member you couldn't really say you've seen real theatre until you visited it.
Nowadays, the Paladin didn't just host classic opera, ballet and theatre; they also held modern rock concerts and other special events. It had changed to suit a changing Midgar. No longer did just Midgar's elite frequent the Paladin. They were joined by the middle class, and tourists from around the world who'd come to see the world famous theatre. Business in Midgar had been declining in the last few years, so much so that even the Paladin was hit hard. It wasn't until they became the sole host to the world renowned play, "Loveless", that things began to look brighter for them.
She'd seen "Loveless" when it had first debuted on the Paladin's stage six years ago. The same weekend she'd met and spoken with Sephiroth. Just a few weeks before she'd had that nightmare. The theatre and the play held a special place in her heart because of that. She didn't think she could describe in words what that night had meant to her. It was far too profound, far too real for words. All she knew, was that night...it reminded her of something long buried. As if, as if a light had been shined on her momentarily. A story of loved gained and loss. A story of struggle and hard ship and though it'd end in tears, there was also hope...and the light of something bigger than herself guiding her every footstep.
For a moment on that night, she felt like she could really do it. She felt she could take the world head on, no worries, no regrets.
The only possible downside to that night was that she had to go with Reno. It could have been awful. The kind of awful that fell into the realm of things she'd never speak of again, but it actually hadn't been that bad. Reno had, for once, acted like a gentleman around her. He'd even sent her a dress to wear, though she had a suspicion that sending it hadn't been his idea. For one, it was a designer dress. She knew because she'd passed the shop it was sold in almost everyday. It stuck out to her because it was bright, blood red and though it was spaghetti strapped, it had a rather high bust line. Showing only a bit of cleavage, which considering the women Reno normally went for, was an oddity. The dress itself was calf length, flaring out from the hip like the dresses flamenca dancers wore in Costa del Sol. All in all, the dress left more to the imagination. It was stylish, rather than skin revealing. He'd never buy a dress this modest.
Even when the night finally came, he'd been almost genteel. He didn't swear, or made suggestive comments, and he even kept the unnecessary touching to a minimum. Best of all, he ACTUALLY opened doors for her, treating her like a lady rather than a hot piece of ass. It was then that she wondered if the real Reno had been killed and replaced by some hideous clone born of weird science. Then she got in the limo and saw Tseng sitting there as comfortable as can be, and it all became clear.
They'd all gone and seen Loveless together. She got to spend a night in a beautiful dress, in a place a slum girl like her would never have gone to otherwise, on the arms of two very good looking men. It was worth it for all the jealous stares alone.
It also counted as one more thing ticked off her big list of Things to Do Before She Died.
Gazing up at the Paladin's marquis, she smiled softly as she walked past, weaving a path through the throng of people that flooded Midgar's ever busy streets. She was so busy remembering that she didn't even see it coming. It being a one gil coin, which was expertly lobbed at the side of her head, hitting her temple with a neat thwack. Furious green eyes flashed, scanning the crowd for the bastard that'd hit her in the head. Her palm was pressed to the side of her now throbbing head and as she turned around, her gaze met that of the perpetrator of her pain and the bane of her existence.
Said bane gave her a cocky, lopsided grin, and said in a voice far too cheery for its own good, "What's happenin' hot stuff?"
Aeris was not given to extreme fits of temper but the urge to commit an obscene amount of violence on the red headed fiend in front of her was hard to quell. He made matters worse by plastering an innocent look on his face, holding out his hands as if to say, "It wasn't me..."
Her eye twitched and she lunged at him, smacking his arm ineffectually as she cried, "YOU JERK! YOU BIG STUPID FAT-HEADED JERK!"
Holding up his arms to mockingly shield himself from her blows, he had the gall to laugh. In between laughs, he coughed out in the worst upper crust accent she'd ever heard, "I see my lady is in a foul mood! Perchance, is there nothing that would stop'est thy temper?"
She balled her fist and punched his shoulder as hard as she could.
"YOU...YOU..." She stammered, gasping as she pointed a finger at him in accusation, "YOU THREW A COIN AT ME! WHY? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" She was answered by breathless gasps as he laughed so hard he couldn't breathe properly anymore. "Never mind. Don't answer that."
He reined it in enough to answer her, "You're too easy, you know that?"
"And you're a jackass." She snapped back, giving him an angry scowl as she said it, "The least you could have done was apologize." To that he grinned and she considered hitting him again. Thinking better of it, she sniffed and haughtily lifted her chin, "And...I'm NOT your lady."
"Denial is an ugly, ugly thing, Aeris."
"You should know..." She muttered, swatting his shoulder one final time to emphasize her still lingering anger with him.
He chuckled at her, giving yet another grin that pronounced his continued innocence in all matters. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he turned and looked back at her.
"C'mere."
"Huh?"
He cocked his elbow out, as if offering it to her, "Walk with me."
Aeris hesitated, scowling at him with her green eyes aglow with fury that was slowly burning away.
"Come ooooooooooon." He said, still smiling as he jerked his head in the direction he wanted to take. "You know you wanna."
Aeris was NOT budging. Until he made the puppy eyes, which was so ridiculously endearing that she couldn't help but acquiesce. She huffed and reluctantly hooked her arm with his, giving him a dark look that dared to ask why the hell she should do anything with him.
"What's that look for?"
"Lots of things."
"Whaaaaaaaaaat?" He asked playfully, waiting for the look that question would garner. She scowled and he smiled even wider, "You know you love me. 'Sides, there's this great new restaurant I've been dying to take you to. They have the best little cookies!"
She gave a long suffering sigh that was half real, half faked, "Fine. Great. Cookie place. But I'm buy--"
"My ass you're buying...Mah ladies don't pay for nothing."
Aeris thought to mention that the double negative in the sentence negated his intent, but she left it alone. She was too busy being mad at him anyway. Being as annoyed with him as she was, she didn't notice the underlying hint of nervousness in his normally easygoing manner. His eyes scanned the streets and the rooftops as they walked. Every stranger they passed by, he eyed, pulling her a bit closer as if protecting her from them in some way. Aeris paid no mind, because it wasn't all that strange for Reno. He'd always been jumpy when it came to her.
They arrived at the doorstep of Cookies Inc. without incident as it was only a short distance away from where they were previously. Aeris sat down at one of the small bistro tables set out in front while Reno went up to order. He didn't even bother asking what she wanted, he already knew, a sugar cookie with Carob nuts, chocolate milk to drink. Anyone that didn't know better would think he was her boyfriend. Once he sat down and they both got settled, they ate in peace. Aeris was feeling a bit less aggravated with every bite she took, and found by the time she finished it, she could question him without the possibility of a large amount of violence to his face.
"Sooooo..." She drawled out slowly, taking a sip from the straw in her chocolate milk before she continued her inquisition, "What's the occasion?"
He looked offended as he answered, "Do I have to have a reason to visit you?"
"No, you never do...unfortunately."
He grinned, his eyes sparkling as the words rolled off his tongue, "I can think of a few reasons if you push me..."
Cocking her head slightly, she smiled brightly, "Would your ass like an appointment with my boot? Because that can be arranged any time you want." She said, pausing before extending a leg, "I got my kickin' boots on and everything."
He took one look at her worn gardening boots and shook his head.
"Those things should be cordoned off, stuck in a biohazard container and dropped off the nearest cliff."
Her eyes widened and though she laughed, she pretended offense. It went on like this and for a moment, they were just two people teasing each other in front of a trendy sidewalk cafe. In the midst of all this, Reno could feel his smile fading as his mind tried to work in a way to tell her what he'd really come to say. She was laughing in that effervescent way of hers. To his ears, it was the best, most cheerful sound in the world. So singularly joyful that it would put the church bells rung at weddings to shame. Each passing minute was the toll of a different kind of bell. One that brought no joy and suddenly, he didn't feel much like laughing anymore. She watched as his face fell, her own laughter stilling.
"What's wrong?"
He looked up at her then, his blue eyes hard, "What if there was a reason?"