11
Diving Through his Memories
Like traveling through the Lifestream, I was warped in an endless ocean made up of the colors of sea green and blue. It was beautiful at first, a barren sea of blue with nothing in it, expanding beyond the edges of a world I was too nervous to explore. But I sank further, falling into dark trenches of shadow, fearful of what may lurk in the dark.
Suddenly, without warning, I landed in darkness, my body collapsing as though I fell from a ten-foot drop. Everything ached, feeling like I was somewhere real, and my arms and legs stayed sprawled on a hard surface for a minute, collecting my panicked thoughts.
It was pitch black.
Were my eyes open or not? They felt open, but I couldn't see anything.
I blinked and lifted a sore hand up to my face, unable to see it.
Heart rate increased as I quickly scrambled up, not feeling the weight of my dress, but not naked either. I patted down my body, feeling a t-shirt and jeans, my old outfit. I looked around in the dark void, quiet, not even a gust of wind nor distant noise, and I tensed, feet already hurrying.
"Cloud?!" I cried, and my voice echoed farther and farther, telling me just how expansive this place was.
Was this what nested inside his head?
I walked for a while, wandering while hugging myself, desperately searching for anything, a light source, a voice, something.
"Cloud, where are you?" I shouted under my hands, and again, my voice went as far as the world let it, endless, fading into the hills, the mountains, and over the edge of this world.
What if this was it? What if there was nothing left of him? I began to let out tears, finding the wet warmth consoling against the chills that traveled up my spine. This could've been a mistake, and I may be trapped in Cloud's emptiness, his soul possibly melted into the Mako that miraculous left his body intact. My whimpering turned into Inhaled gasping, and I walked on, not knowing how far or how long, as I left behind a trail of tears.
Don't cry.
I gasped, popping my eyes open as soon as I heard his voice, sound soft and hurt. My vision adjusted, and out there, far away, a light appeared. Without speculating, I ran towards it, my sanctuary from this darkness. Who knows what I would find, but it was better than staying in the dark. I huffed as I swung my arms, taking my legs as fast as they could handle, and sprinted. As I neared, I noticed a figure with blond, spiky hair.
Hope filled my face.
"Cloud!"
But when I came closer, the figure shrank, until just a few steps away, I stopped just under an old cast-iron street lamp. Under its soft yellow glow, like a lit up bland bus stop in the middle of the dark world, a passenger waited. He lifted his little spiky head up, and his blue eyes sparkled before he quickly looked away.
"H-Hi," little Cloud struggled, his cheeks turning red.
I blinked at him, unsure as what to do or say, suddenly feeling like I was inside some kind of puzzle. Slowly, I came closer, watching him with his back to me, probably eight or nine years old, his legs and arms all skinny, and his hair a messy, blond pony-tail. This was the Cloud I saw the first time I dove into his soul, the one crying for help.
I must be in the right place.
Little Cloud was looking far away at something, as though it was clearly out there, something important, but I didn't see anything beyond the light of the lamp.
"Hi," I began, kneeling a little to get down to his height. When he didn't respond, I added, "I'm Aqua. What's your name?"
I tried to meet with his eyes, but little Cloud ducked his head as he muttered, "Cloud."
When he didn't say anything else, back to being fixated on the darkness, I asked him softly, "Well, Cloud. I'm lost. Do you know the way home?"
"Home…" He repeated my last word heavily, and he lifted his head a little, blinking as though the word was special, but he couldn't figure out why.
He finally turned around, and looked up at me with wonder. I couldn't tell if he really knew me or not, if this was a dream, a memory, or something else entirely.
"Home?" He questioned, his hands clutching to his baggy white t-shirt until it wrinkled.
I smiled.
"Yes, home. Where you feel safe, and have people around you who love you. It can be a place, or it can be just with the people you care about. Remember? A home doesn't have to be a settled place," I reminded him. I tried to keep a face as I kept my feet from sinking into the shadows, painful memories trying to grasp my legs with vine whip arms.
Little Cloud's eyes grew, and he turned his head back out to the darkness.
"I can show you mine, but, I don't like it there," Cloud whined, his chin sinking into his chest until his cheeks puffed.
I tilted my head a little.
"What don't you like about your home?"
"It's painful," he simply answered as he turned his head to me, and I saw a buried, injured grown man behind those large eyes. I inched my face a little closer and requested politely, "Please, will you show me?"
Little Cloud looked away, his cheeks from red to white, and he sighed, his little shoulders slumped. And then, without another word, he lifted his little hand up for me to take.
I blinked at the little hand, almost the size of mine. It was remarkable how this little hand I grasped, was the same hand that could take both of mine earlier. Little Cloud's hand was warm but sweaty, a nervous child. He tugged as he said, "Come on, this way."
I yelped, surprised at his strength as he pulled me back into darkness.
"How can you see anything?" I gasped, my bare feet trying to catch up with his sneakers. His hand squeezed.
"I know Nibelheim even if I walked in blind. Every corner, ever house, every alleyway. I know all of it," Little Cloud replied with a tone of disappointment, as though it was a nuisance to have such a memory.
"Nibelheim?" I questioned.
And then, from the darkness, the gates suddenly appeared. We stopped, the cast iron gates closed off, and tall brick walls keeping us stuck out in the dark world. A single street lamp glistened the entrance for us, almost hauntingly, as dark shadows surrounded us.
Little Cloud let go of my hand and twirled around to look up at me, his eyes squinting under the lamp.
"Are you sure about this?" He asked.
I blinked. "What's wrong, Cloud?"
He darted his stare away as he muttered, "It's….it's not comfortable. I don't know how I feel about you being here." And he made soft fists on his shirt.
Again, I knelt and clasped my hands over my knee. Looking him straight in the eye, I replied calmly, "If you want me to leave, then I will leave."
I would've preferred to stay, but this was Cloud's soul, where his memories, his feelings, his thoughts, all of him resided. It would be a difficult choice, to expose all of that to someone you love, afraid of rejection, afraid of losing that perfect image of yourself to the hard truths and painful past. If he changed his mind, it would be brutal, but I couldn't make him. I could be stuck here with him for who knows how long, perhaps slightly relieved with the idea of living in a dream for a while.
Little Cloud bit his lower lip, unable to look up at me as he squirmed, stuffing his hands into pockets of his long, jean shorts.
"No, I don't want you to leave," he was saying, and something in his eyes sparkled, something familiar, like he said that somewhere before, and he felt it, a spark of a far off memory. His eyes grew into mine, and there was a pause of connection, the Cloud I remember, hiding somewhere in there.
I straightened, a hand to my chest to feel my heart beat steadily as I watched Little Cloud rush up to the gates with a loud clank from his hands slamming into them.
"Just follow me," he said over his small shoulder. With that, he pushed open the gates, and they screeched.
My bare feet walked along the familiar cobblestone streets, entering into the tiny town of Nibelheim with Little Cloud leading the way. He marched through as though he owned the place, though no one greeted him. It was the middle of the day, the high sun appearing intrusive after I've been in the dark for some time. The air was stiff, hot, and dry, making Nibelheim appear like a Western town with the grass yellow, the trees dead, and the rocky walls of Mt. Nibel just behind it. The well was there, but as before, it was just an old soul in the middle of town, dried up as I observed the familiar Mako pipes curled around each house. The Mako smell was strong here, mixed with fresh mountain air. There was something lively about the place back then, finding it odd to see a few residents loiter around, chatting but ignoring little Cloud as though he was just a stray.
A group of young boys, about Cloud's age, came running across the square. Cloud and I watched them, four boys, skittering up to Tifa's house.
They didn't even knock, just barged on in like it was normal to ram one's self into someone else's home. But it's a small town, the people all knowing each other. I'm sure there was a close, trust system here.
Cloud walked, but he didn't go inside. Instead, as the door closed, he loitered by the well, and looked up the window to the second floor of Tifa's house.
I followed his gaze.
"Oh, this is Tifa's house, right?" I asked, and squinted through the glass window. Behind white, translucent curtains, I saw a skinny girl curl up into herself, her face buried into her knees. When she turned her head, looking through the glass at Cloud, I recognized the dark hair.
Tifa pulled her face back into her knees before I could see her tears.
"What's the matter with her?" I asked.
Little Cloud kicked at a rock, startling a lizard, and he watched it skitter away with its tiny green legs.
"This is the day her mother died," he sulked, looking down.
I gasped, a hand to my heart, and looked back up to Tifa's window. Could she see me? I could only assume she couldn't, as she glanced through her window again, making my insides jump when I thought her eyes burned through mine. She then disappeared, a wisp of her dark hair left for last. I had to tell myself this was only a memory, but what happened to Tifa in this memory was real.
"That's terrible," I whispered.
Little Cloud slumped his back against a leg of the well, and sighed. A minute later, the door to Tifa's house burst opened. I straightened, and watched her little form run off, not even noticing Cloud behind her tears. Her large, amber eyes dripped heavily, and she sprinted her little body away in a white summer dress, her long hair loose. After her, came the four boys. One of them went straight up to Cloud and jammed a fist into his chest without warning.
"You can't come!" The kid spat, and Cloud's back slammed against the wood.
I was suddenly getting Barret vibes, wondering if this is what went through Cloud's mind when those two initially started rubbing each other the wrong way.
Little Cloud glared at the boy, and they all took their turns to shove him hard, stuck their tongues out at him, and left, Little Tifa oblivious to all the bullying.
We watched them all race up the many stairs towards the mountain, wooden swords stuck to their backs like they were part of some youth crusade group. A group where Cloud didn't belong. He was the runt of the litter.
I swallowed, and then asked, "Do they always do that to you?"
Little Cloud crossed his arms and kicked his toe into the cobblestone.
"Yeah, but I'm used to it. We usually get into fights," he spat. Despite being told not to come, Cloud slowly began to follow them.
"You were all fighting for Tifa's love?" I teased, walking beside him with my hands behind my back.
Cloud's cheeks grew red, turning his head away as he grumbled, "Of course. We were boys, and Tifa was the most popular girl in town."
"Or the only girl in town," I muttered to myself, not finding any other children in the area before taking the stairs.
Slowly, we followed the group of kids, finding them trotting off into the mountain trail.
The air became chilly when the high sun hid behind thick clouds. Dry grass turned into tall rocky terrain, and I felt a sense of déjà vu after already experiencing Mt. Nibel before.
After a while, I asked, "I don't get it, where are they going?"
Tifa kept running ahead, the boys following as they roughed each other up, sharing jokes and waving their wooden swords to scare off monsters.
"Tifa's searching for her mother," Little Cloud replied.
I tried to grasp that kind of understanding, blinking up at the tall, pointy peaks of Mt. Nibel as though I could find Tifa's mother somewhere up there.
"I see. She thinks she can just find her mom on the other side of the mountain, huh? I can understand that," I noted. Death was difficult for any child to grasp, not quite following that someone you loved, was suddenly just gone, forever...
I wanted to ask why this memory? Why was it so important to Cloud? But I didn't have to. Just a little ways ahead, a long, weak bridge of rope and wood laid suspended over a large crevice. Tifa didn't even hesitate to step her dirty shoes over the flimsy wood planks, and kept on going. However, the four boys came to their senses and halted before they went any further.
"Hey, Tifa! Don't go that way!" One of them shouted. His voice echoed through the ridge, slipping in through rocks and cracks like the high winds.
"There are too many monsters!" Another screamed.
"Tifa, we aren't following you! This isn't fun!" A third warned.
She ignored them, a lost soul walking slowly away as the bridge creaked under her threateningly.
The boys huddled together, tossing each other worried looks, and then they shook their heads when they all agreed not to follow. Instead, they turned around, ready to head back into town.
"She's a goner," one boy told Cloud as he passed. The boys snickered, running away, leaving Cloud absorbed on Tifa's form in the middle of that rickety bridge.
Suddenly, he ran towards her.
I gasped, trying to keep up with his skinny legs.
"Wait!"
I only made it a few feet over the tied planks before the bridge collapsed underneath us. Little Tifa screamed, her feet sinking towards the shadows of the earth, her dark hair and white dress fluttering. Her eyes widened towards the cloudy sky, her hands reaching up for some magical savior to come and grab her before it was too late. Rope snapped, and Cloud tried to reach for her, but he was caught in the fall, unable to get to her in time. I thought I was falling with them, feeling the wind rush through my clothes and hair, the dread of contacting the hard ground as my world darkened, high ridges of rock looming over me.
I expected to slam into earth and wake up with a start, like it was all just a bad dream. The walls of the mountain tops closed in on me, and then my fall slowed, until my feet tapped lightly over a tiny stream. Everything inside the ridge laid in shadow, a glimpse of a weak sun and clouds far above when I looked up.
Little Cloud wheezed, catching my attention.
I gasped, finding him lying on his back, the wind knocked out of him, for he was wheezing to each breath, his head smashed over a bush that protected his skull. But Little Tifa didn't move. A few feet away, she laid there on her back, arms and legs spread out and twisted up. Blood drizzled from behind her head, her eyes closed.
"Oh no," I shrieked, ready to try to save her.
"Don't, this is a memory, remember?" Little Cloud reminded me, slowly sitting up. His face had been scratched up from the bushy branches that broke his fall, and he sniffed, tears in his eyes like he could feel the pain all over again.
"There's nothing you can do," he mentioned, noticing that one of his shoes went missing when he wiggled his toes from a sock with holes.
I hesitated, my stomach tight.
"Did this really happen?" I whispered, my hands holding my belly as though it was going to split open.
Little Cloud nodded, and he rubbed a dirty fist under his eyes.
"Yes..."
"Hey, there she is!" A manly voice screamed.
I turned to follow the growing voices, and a group of men ran through the canyon, their boots skipping over the tiny stream and slapping over rocks.
"Tifa!"
A strongly built man with short, brown hair, collapsed his jeans into the dirt, and scooped an injured Little Tifa into his arms.
"My baby girl," her father whispered, his tears falling to her frozen, white face. She didn't move nor stir, barely an inhale from her tiny chest.
He stood up, carrying her tight against his broad chest, and sharply, he turned his head towards Cloud. Tifa's father had warm, brown eyes, but when they landed on Little Cloud, they flashed to red, and I could easily see the resemblance between father and daughter.
"Boy, what the hell were you doing bringing Tifa all the way out here?! Why would you do that?!" The bitter man cried.
I sucked a sharp inhale, feeling my chest ache as I watched Little Cloud struggle to sit up, still wheezing as he avoided the man's gaze.
"I didn't-" but he couldn't speak, his lungs still too tight to help him defend himself. But even if he could, the grown men of his town didn't want to hear it. I felt worthless as I just stood and watched how the little boy, probably only nine or ten years old, was shouted at like it was all his fault. Fingers pointed at him. Spit sprayed from shouting, feet stomped, and chests puffed. No one helped him get up, not even to lend a hand.
"We know what you did. Alex and the others told me what you were up to!" Tifa's Father bellowed.
Cloud sank his scratched up face over his bruised knees, hiding away from all the pointed fingers and cries.
Finally, after more curses and warnings, they left him there all alone.
In disbelief, I watched the men leave, taking Tifa like she was the only one who mattered.
"Hey! What about Cloud?! Aren't you going to help him up, too?! Hey!"
I knew they couldn't hear me, and it was frustrating to feel like I was being ignored as I watched their backs shrink away.
I huffed with frustration, and turned around to find Cloud whimpering. His hands smashed into his eyes, and he began to cry.
"It's all my fault. I couldn't save her," he sobbed.
I swallowed, watching a little boy blame himself, the words of the adults stuck in his head for the majority of his young life, echoing over and over again. My eyes burned as I stepped closer, and crouched next to him.
"It's not your fault," I whispered, afraid to touch him.
But Cloud leaped into my arms anyway, causing me to fall on my rear from the momentum of his embrace. He sobbed into my shirt while his little arms wrapped tight around my waist.
"I hate it here. Hate it," he wailed, his words smudged into me as I wondered what to do. I held Little Cloud, letting him cry, doing what he needed all along. A few minutes later, a stressed voice broke the silence.
"Cloud?"
A woman's voice struck me, and I stiffened. Cloud jumped out of my arms and limped his way towards the voice.
"Mom!"
I turned around, finding a woman with hair like Cloud's, gawk at him as he rammed his battered body into her arms. Her mouth hung open, blue eyes wide.
"I'm so glad you're all right!" She gasped, holding him tight against the peach-colored skirt to her day dress.
I watched, smiling while standing up. Claudia's cheeks were wet from tears as she smiled down at her only child, rubbing her hands through his hair until it was freed from its ribbon. Beautiful, long blond hair tossed, and Cloud cried mightily into his mother's chest.
"Your mother was your home," I whispered to myself. A warm wave tossed over me, planting soft tingles under my skin when I discovered how much Cloud really loved his mother. It only seemed the grave we made for her that much more important. Just thinking about Claudia's name inscribed across that stone, and the Buster sword Cloud planted for her, sent more shivers through me, and I gripped my elbows.
Claudia scooped Cloud into her arms, hugging him as he rammed his face into her shoulder to continue sobbing.
"Now, let's get you cleaned up, and you can tell me all that happened," Claudia suggestion, her blue eyes sparkled with life. There wasn't resentment, no scolding nor anger flaring from the gentle woman. She really did love her son. I felt a pulse as I watched them turn around, and little Cloud forgot about me.
Together, they left, and disappeared into the shadows.
Everything darkened.
There was something lonesome about being left behind.
I sighed, forgetting that this was all just a memory, when a familiar street lamp laid over my head again. I studied my bare feet for a moment, wondering what I was supposed to do now. Was that it? Is there more? I didn't want to go back out there in the dark world. My eyes burned, the image of Claudia and Cloud still burned in my retinas. I blinked, trying to rub the image away, and sniffed, my noise starting to clog.
Out of nowhere, I heard, "Right here."
Footsteps appeared.
I lifted my head, and found another young Cloud, though older than the last one. He still had that pony-tail, but he was taller, in another white t-shirt and shorts, hiking boots fidgeting under the light. His arms were still thin, hands shoved into his pockets, and his electric blue eyes held in some preservation.
He blinked at me, loose, blond spikes of hair between his youthful eyes.
"Ready?" He asked, as though I was expecting him.
I swallowed.
"For the next memory?" I inquired.
Cloud nodded, and began to walk away. I followed, until I was next to him. Just like before, the gates of Nibelheim showed up, but it was night. A sky of brilliance lit up the town, Mako pipes and metal roofs gleaming in blue and white. My eyes lit up at the sight.
But Cloud seemed less impressed, and he sighed just as he stopped before the gates.
"You don't know this yet, not entirely. But this is when I made my promise to Tifa," he told me.
My heart skipped.
"Yes, I recall something like that, but you never told me what it was exactly," I clarified.
Cloud sighed into his hand.
"That's because..." He swallowed, cheeks burning. His tone of voice told me he was barely a teenager, and it jolted my heart to see Cloud's teenage form blush.
He never finished, slipping through the gate with a sigh as though he didn't want to go through with this, and tossed me a nervous glance when I kept up.
We ventured towards the old water tower, and my mouth fell at the many number of stars above us.
"It's so beautiful!" I gasped, spinning around with my arms out to turn space into a twirling mess of glowing sparkles. Warm lights melted into the streets from all the homes surrounding the square, chattering, and voices of lives happening behind closed doors. It was easy to feel like we were the only two people in the whole world, the show of stars left to only us to enjoy, a private show.
Cloud climbed the ladder, and stepped onto the tower. I searched around the square, expecting Tifa to be around, but she was nowhere to be found.
"Where's Tifa?" I pried, spotting her window with a faint yellow light behind it. Movement darted behind thick, white curtains, a brief shadow before light again.
Unexpectedly, Cloud smirked, crossing his arms.
"She'll be late," he simplified. He tossed his head over to the ladder, smiling nervously down at me when he was ten feet high.
"Come on up."
I flushed. "Oh?"
It felt intrusive, and I shook my head immediately.
"Um, that's okay. I don't feel comfortable sitting under the stars in the dark with a teenage boy."
"You goof," he chuckled, and a flash of the real Cloud came as quickly as it went. There was a flicker, a disturbance in the memory, almost painful, like a flash of red lightning, and it gave me a tease of the real, older Cloud giving me his hand. But it went away so quickly, my eyelids fluttered a few times to adjust to the night again.
Once more, I looked up at a younger Cloud, and took to the ladder, ignoring his hand completely.
"I can climb on my own, thank you," I assured, walking along the edge of the well and watching how Cloud sat on it, his legs and feet dangling in the air. I copied his posture, sitting right next to him, my legs covered in jeans kicking the air. My feet playfully tapped his boots, taking in the silence as comforting. When young Cloud leaned his shoulder against mine, I scooted away. He chuckled at that.
"Don't you like me like this?" He joked, smiling up at the stars.
I shook my head.
"I'd prefer you a bit older, thank you," I muttered nervously. I couldn't tell if he knew me or not.
I kicked his boot again as I asked, "Cloud, does that mean you know me?"
He shrugged.
"You feel familiar. I can't put my finger on it, but something tells me I'm here to help you, or you're here to help me. Which is it?" He dropped his head and gave me a nervous grin. My face grew hot, stiffening.
"Well, that depends. I think you're supposed to tell me what happened here, and why it's important."
Cloud's blue eyes sank, and he kicked his boots up, smacking each other until dirt flicked off his heels. His loose shoe laces smacked together.
"This is where I made my promise to Tifa. I was fourteen, ready to leave town to become a member of SOLDIER."
My hands tightened around the edge.
"Ah, like saying goodbye bye," I pondered, and then I put the pieces together, recalling the last memory.
"You wanted to prove you were a hero after what happened, didn't you? You still felt guilty, not being able to save Tifa that day. The idea of being SOLDIER, and then coming back home as a hero, it would give you clean hands after they've been filthy for years from that awful accident. Cloud, that's why you're showing me this, aren't you?"
Cloud ducked his head.
"I just wanted to be forgiven," he whispered, his eyes suddenly glowing, which was odd because he didn't have Mako poison in his body yet. Unless the old Cloud was speaking, taking over his memory in layers. It was incomprehensible.
"By who? Tifa or yourself?" I challenged.
Cloud sighed, and his glowing eyes reached the many clusters of stars and distant galaxies.
"There's something else, too," he dreaded, closing his eyes to hide all the beauty away from his sight like he felt he didn't deserve to see it. I waited, letting the silence fall around us naturally. Crickets chirped. A soft breeze brushed through green grass scattered in between stones, a scent of an early spring carried through the night air. I inhaled, taking a deep breath to brace myself.
"I promised Tifa if she was ever in trouble, I would be there to save her," he confessed, opening his eyes again just toss me a careful look.
My heart squeezed tight, but I tried to smile over it, shaking my head at the fear smoldering behind Cloud's stare.
"You were just a kid. It's okay. Nothing woos a girl's heart more than a young man telling her he will save her when she's in trouble," I lightened, or at least tried to. It did hurt. I realized why Cloud had been so hesitant to tell me this memory. It was a long time ago, however...
My fingers began to fumble together over my jean thighs, watching them rub and twist anxiously. Cloud watched, a familiarity flashing behind his eyes.
"I admit, it just makes it seem like your pinky promise to me is a little less special now. Or, perhaps it feels like I've stolen you," I strained to say, trying to maintain my smile as I watched my feet wave up to the stars.
Cloud's hand, already grown since I last saw it, edged closer, and put a stop to my fumbling anxiety when he slapped it on top of my busy hands.
"Stop that," he muttered, and another jolt of a recent memory cut through, startling us. Slowly, Cloud was remembering.
But I squinted a dark look at him as I pulled my hands away, still uncomfortable being this close to someone sixteen years younger than me.
Cloud settled his hands back over the edge, gripping it tight as he sighed, glancing at his feet like I did.
"I know it makes me seem like an ass. Giving the same promise to two people like that. But," his eyes lifted, and flickered at my feet.
"I kept my promise to Tifa, I think. I can't remember, but I thought I fulfilled it later. Does that mean I can't promise to protect anyone else ever again?" Cloud challenged.
"When did you fulfill your promise to Tifa?" I asked, not certain if Tifa, herself, felt it was accomplished.
Suddenly, Cloud gasped, and his hands shot up to his head. He groaned in pain, and there was another red flash, like someone tearing through this memory behind the scenes. The sky turned red, and I jumped to my feet, afraid.
"I...I can't remember," Cloud whimpered, eyes lost. Teenage Cloud winced, his head falling over his thighs as he squeezed his skull in between his hands.
"I came for her. I know I did. I think...but when?"
Flashes of the real Cloud slipped out like a ghost, standing next to me as he cradled his head in his hands.
"I can't remember," he echoed, his voice merging with his younger self.
My hand slowly extended out to him.
"It's okay, Cloud. I'll help you sort out your memories," I comforted. Before I had the chance to touch him, the scenery slipped away, traces of the real Cloud with it, and I was back to my special little place.
I stood there, reaching as though Cloud was still next to me, and I found the street lamp glowing over my outstretched arm. I dropped it, letting my hand smack my thigh.
This unique place seemed like a save point to this odd journey of going through Cloud's memories, wondering which version of him I was going to meet next. I waited, scanning out there in the dark, like I was in the middle of nowhere, under the world's only light.
Time was difficult to track, unsure as how much of it had passed before I had the sinking feeling I was left behind, forgotten.
"Cloud, where did you go?" I asked towards the dark abyss. I stayed near my lamp as though it was my life protector, the only thing keeping me from being swallowed up in the world of nothingness.
Feeling alone, I wrapped my arms around myself as I leaned against the light's post, shivering even though there was no chill. For a long time, there was only silence.
"Sorry I'm late." Cloud's voice shattered the dreadful blackout, and I uncoiled from my spot. I perked, finding someone coming into the light.
Soft blue eyes sparkled down at mine, a crooked smirk to his narrow face. It didn't seem like the old Cloud, not yet. His hair was more wild, still trying to figure itself out, and Mako absent from his eyes. There was something depressing about him, an aura of heaviness to this younger Cloud. Despite wearing his SOLDIER uniform, underneath that, he seemed to want to hide into himself, the sparkle gone when he dropped his head a little to avoid my speculated gaze.
"I made it. I got into SOLDIER," he muttered, sounding anything but pleased with himself, just trying to play the part.
I shrugged. "You sure don't sound too proud about it," I observed.
Cloud dropped his armored shoulders, done with the charades, and he whispered, "Come, follow me."
He let his hands limp at his sides, his head down, as he began to walk gloomily away from my lamp post.
For the third time, I let Cloud take the lead, staying close to him as we entered into another memory. Again, more of Nibelheim. I had no idea that his hometown actually influenced him this much. All that mattered to Cloud, seemed to revolve around this place. The heart of his soul, perhaps?
Cloud's thin arms blossomed as he aged, muscular limbs stretched as he pushed the gates open rather aggressively.
"Three years, and this is what it brought me," he muttered to himself, keeping his eyes low like he was too ashamed to watch the memory with me.
I bumped my shoulder into him, trying to wake him up from his slumped state.
"What memory is this?" I asked.
Cloud closed his eyes and gestured his hand out like he was about to serve me a platter of something exquisite.
"Observe."
I turned around.
Sitting there, right by my legs, was a girl. She wasn't there before. She sat on the cobblestone road right at the end of the gate, her back against a lamp post. I couldn't tell who it was, her brown leather cowboy hat hiding her head. Her leather cowboy boots tapped impatiently, pale hands squeezing at her bare knees.
"Who is that?" I asked.
My guide, younger Cloud, said nothing. He just watched, his lips drooped low as he shoved his hands into his pockets. I noticed he wasn't carrying his Buster sword when I peeked at him. Just the SOLDIER uniform, but something seemed off about him.
A group of Shinra troops appeared, distracting me from my thoughts. I flickered my eyes to them, and took notice who they were following.
I gasped, almost running in the opposite direction. Fearfully, I struggled to gaze up to aqua eyes, and Sephiroth blinked right at me. He looked the same as I've always seen him. Long, silver hair swaying to the afternoon breeze, his black cape dragged behind him. He held himself with confidence, an aura of superiority as his bare chest pushed away at his black belts. Black leather hugged his arms and legs, a wide belt of the SOLDIER sigil across his toned belly.
I almost thought he could see me, for a second, his eyes looked right into mine, but then they carried on, observing NIbelheim with little interest. Just another mission, nothing more.
"We're at five years ago," I breathed, finally seeing Cloud's old story unfold.
Cloud nodded.
The girl gasped, lifting her hat when she surveyed the group. I blinked when I found the girl to be Tifa, younger and in perfect youth, her body snugged under a slim white top to show off her small belly.
I thought glumly how some things never change.
Tifa jumped to her feet, her large brown eyes searching wildly among the group. I, too, searched, finding a couple of Shinra infantrymen, their heads hidden in their helmets, and a SOLDIER 1st class, with black spiky hair.
I took a step back, almost falling over when I recognized him.
Zack.
Next to me, Cloud's head perked up, catching the recognition in my eyes.
"You know him?"
I shook my head, vaguely remembering the face when I dove into Aerith's memories right before she died.
"I don't, but..." I looked down at my hands, feeling a hint of what Aerith felt when I saw Zack's friendly face, how his eyes glowed when he smiled warmly at her. My heart was already pounding at his presence, as though remnants of Aerith's feelings lingered inside me. I was uncertain if I should share this with Cloud, and decided to wait, not relevant to his memories.
"Never mind. It's not important. What's important is that I don't see you here in this group, but it seems to match your story," I wondered aloud.
Tifa suddenly darted pass me, sniffling. I twirled around to watch her leave a trail of dust behind, long legs carrying her into town.
"Well, almost. I don't recall this part. What was the matter with Tifa?" I asked, but inside, I already knew that answer.
She was waiting for her hero to return home.
I swallowed. I didn't belong here, my insecurities slowly consuming me, starting at my feet and working its way up. A deep inhale, and then I sighed, slightly shaky with growing anxiety. Tifa should be here to witness this memory, not me.
Cloud didn't want to watch this memory as much as I did, his head so low, he could see nothing but feet as Sephiroth walked through the gates first, mumbling his words about not knowing his father. I was a ghost in some movie, slipping through the characters as they continued to play their parts and say their lines, oblivious to my watchfulness.
Zack came in, smiling widely up at the tiny town with his hands on his hips.
"It's so small. Wow, I'd hate to live here," he teased, and he turned around to wink at the four low rank Shinra guards behind him.
His spiky black hair was even more wild than Cloud's, reminding me of a hedgehog. He wore his SOLDIER uniform proudly, the buckle of his belts glistering under a late sun, his arms large with strength, wearing the exact outfit as Cloud. But what was so remarkable about this man, were his eyes. They glimmered like Cloud's, the touch of Mako swimming in them, and yet, also self-control. His eyes held a spark, something bright and optimistic, a man comfortable with himself. If it weren't for his childish smirk, I probably would've felt more grave when I noticed Cloud's old Buster sword clinging to Zack's back. I squinted, making sure I wasn't mistaken. No, that was the Buster sword.
"Wait!" I jerked my head towards a slumped Cloud, and pointed at Zack.
"He has your sword!"
Cloud sighed, avoiding my gaze, even when I fired at him another question.
"I don't get it, where are you?"
It was the main question to all of this, a trigger to washing the memory away.
Sephiroth, Zack, and the four Shinra men faded. NIbelheim's gates closed roughly before I was to go inside, punishing me for asking the right question.
Young Cloud freed his hands from his pockets, and grunted to himself before turning to take my hand.
"Follow me closely," he advised, his eyes lifted for a second to show me a look of pain.
I squeezed his hand while my cheeks burned from his hard gaze.
"Okay," I squeaked, nervous.
A world of red and yellow unfolded, and flames danced behind the gates. I swallowed, already smelling the smoke, when Cloud pushed aside a gate, and took me along.
He kept me close, keeping a hold of my hand as we walked into Nibelheim in flames. People screamed, running out of their burning homes, fire dancing off their clothes. It seemed like escape was reachable, but then Sephiroth's blade came crashing down, cutting away at the hope in all their eyes when they were so close to the gates.
I smacked a hand over my mouth, squeezing Cloud's hand so tight, I feared it would be painful for him, but he didn't flinch.
The heat, the smoke, the smell of blood, green spirits swirling into the black sky along with ash. My face glowed in orange, eyes wide, as I watched another man stabbed in the gut. Sephirpoth pulled out his Masamune, blood dripping from it, and settled it at his side. His eyes showed a secluded soul, barely lighting to the flames that licked at his legs and arms. An unstable grin carved on his stunning face, skin cast in a golden bronze from the fires. The mad man ignored the pleas, and simply muttered to himself, "Mother, I'm coming for you."
He walked through the flames, unharmed.
I just had chills, hugging Cloud's arm when an uneasiness began to consume me, and I wished we could leave this memory. But there was more.
Time passed, and there was Tifa, running through the streets, bewildered over the flames as though she didn't know what was happening. Her young eyes expanded, dumbfounded by all the fire and blood upon her home.
"Papa! Papa, where are you?!" She screamed, hands around her lips.
"Hey, Tifa!" Someone shouted. Cloud and I turned, spotting a bald man, his body all muscle under a t-shirt and tight pants. His tanned skin gleamed behind the flames as he carried a body over his shoulder, his worried eyes on Tifa.
"Tifa, thank goodness!"
"Zangman!" She screamed, running towards him.
"Zangman, have you seen Papa?" She asked. He grunted, the body limp over him as he straightened to maintain his stance. Even for a big guy, a dead weight body was still straining him. He sighed, turning his head and looked up at the dark sky, as though he could see through the smoke and find Mt. Nibel.
"He went up to the reactor. Said something about wanting to destroy it once and for all," he growled.
My shoulders sank, finding a common pattern with these reactors. Everyone seemed to want to blow them up.
Tifa whirled away and run up the stairs as quick as her agility let her, long legs leaping under a tiny leather skirt.
Panicked, Zangman screamed, "Tifa, wait! Sephiroth went up that way. Tifa!"
He didn't want to just leave the injured behind, or worst, walk into his death sentence, knowing Sephiroth could easily take him.
"Zangman!"
Zack rushed up to the martial arts instructor and gasped, "You need to get out of here!"
But the bald man shook his head, and readjusted to have the fallen body lay more centered.
"I can't just leave these people," he fretted. He then added with quick temper, "You got to go help Tifa! She went up the reactor. Sephiroth is up there! He'll kill her!"
Zack's Mako eyes widened.
"Tifa went up the reactor? Why?"
"To find her father."
"Damn it."
Zack hissed through his teeth, and he charged, sprinting up the stairs.
No more dialogue, and I asked my guide, "Do we follow them?"
Cloud shook his head.
"Almost."
He turned his dreadful stare away from Zangman, and laid them over a body of a Shinra guard beside a burning home. I came in closer, getting the impression that he was dead, for he seemed stiff. Upon inspection, the Shrina man was still breathing, half covered in smoke and blisters boiled on his arms. His face remained protected but hidden by his helmet, only showing me his white teeth when he clenched them, fighting to sit up. He coughed, his entire being shaking when he struggled to stand.
"I must...save her..." he choked, falling into another coughing fit.
No cuts nor stab wounds. Perhaps Sephiroth glossed over this lucky Shinra infantryman, thinking he was already dead by just inhaling the smoke alone.
But the young man was up, and he sprinted while wheezing, up the stairs to meet with the rest of the show.
The memory seemed to be in a rush, Cloud pulling me to follow as we stepped into a blurry world of flames licking at our feet. It dissolved, the smell of smoke replaced by Mako, flames transformed into green wisps of fumes curdling under metal gills.
"This way," Cloud groaned, his hand gripping so tight.
I didn't quite understand what I was supposed to see, looking up to find Sephiroth standing on top of a long set of metal stairs, his arms out as he announced, "Mother, open this door!"
At the bottom of the stairs, I stood still, unsure why Cloud stopped here, and I tugged on his hand.
"Why are we here?"
He frowned deeper when he replied, "Just watch, please." With a swallow, he sank his eyes into his free hand.
"And please, don't hate me."
Hate you?
I wanted to dig further, wondering why this Cloud drenched himself in a cloak of remorse.
Like an audience, I surveyed the scene, finding many egg-shaped pods blasted and destroyed, perhaps by Sephiroth's magic. Thick goo of Mako and other substances slicked through the grids, drooping over the stairs like glowing blue slime. Heat escaped from the less damaged pods, though, through the tiny windows, more Mako leaked, pipes to feed them burst open.
Engines whirled under our feet, pumping Mako through intact pipes, channeling most of it into Jenova's stronghold, the top prize for which Sephiroth came to claim. Passed Sephiroth's perfect hair, I observed Jenova's name atop a sealed metal door, and tried to ask my guide, "Is this where-"
"Sephiroth!"
Tifa screeched, holding the Masamune unsteadily in her hands. It wasn't meant to be a two-handed weapon, but I could tell, she was having trouble holding it up, the blade much too long for her height to handle. But she was blinded with rage, her eyes red and growling through her teeth.
"You killed papa!" She screamed with so much fresh hate, I thought the room shook. I backed away, feeling too close to her and yet unable to do anything but watch as she dashed up the stairs.
"We let you come into our home! Just for a fucking inspection. That was all it was supposed to be!" She shrilled, her anger channeled into her hands as she readied the sword to perform a horizontal cut. My hands slapped my mouth when I suddenly watched how Sephiroth easily swiped his sword from Tifa's sweaty hands. Cloud grunted, knowing what was going to happen next. I heard it better than I saw it, the sound of Sephiroth's blade slicing into Tifa's belly so quick, it whooshed across the air, taking her blood with it as she tried jumping back before the blow. Her blood splattered, little red dots suspended in the air as her eyes widened, hair flaring over her face as she began to descend, back first, towards the stairs.
I couldn't watch, hiding my head behind Cloud's shoulder before one of Tifa's bones cracked. Her cries filled the Mako air from each hit against the stairs, fumbling down, legs and arms twisting and untwisting until finally, she stopped at the last step.
Her eyes squeezed tight, blood falling loosely from her perfectly shaped lips, hair spread out over her shoulders and on the grids.
Glistering in red, a long, deep cut ran across Tifa's belly, the blood dribbling without mercy. If no one came to her aid, she would bleed to death.
I was ready to grab her, taking a step forward, but Cloud tugged my hand, and I've forgotten I was holding on to him. I flashed him a hurtful look, trying to shake free from his grasped.
"Can't I do something? Change the past?"
But Cloud shook his head, his spiky bangs covering his eyes.
"No. You can't. You just have to watch," he croaked.
I narrowed my eyes at him before turning desperately to Tifa's fallen body.
"But-"
Suddenly, Zack came bursting in. He gasped over Tifa's body, his eyes wide at the mess of her blood around the stairs.
"No," he breathed.
Sephiroth's distant laugh startled all of us, and Zack lifted his furious eyes up the stairs to his destination. He grumbled through his teeth, and sprinted upon descend, passing the two of us. His hand pulled his sword free, and entered Jenova's incubator room, where Sephiroth dwelled.
Not even thirty seconds later, Zack returned, but he was thrown. He collided with a thick pipe, blood hacked from his open jaw by the rough impact. His sword tumbled with him, falling to the floor, clanking somewhere over the steps many times, until it flattened near my feet.
"Shit," Zack winced, clutching to the cut deep in his stomach. He then collapsed in the mess of dist ored bodies of monsters and Mako, almost face planting in it, and grunted, alive but barely.
"I can't take this anymore," I muttered, never realizing, until now, how terrible Cloud had it. But I didn't understand. If this was his memory, then where was he?
"You weren't even here," I declared, already making assumptions.
Cloud stepped closer, his other hand landing on my shoulder.
"But I was here," he trembled, his breath into my ear.
"I saw it. I saw everything," he whispered flatly.
He closed his eyes, knowing what was next, and I held my breath, for another character appeared, someone seeming insignificant.
A Shinra infantryman under a helmet.
His blue uniform had been stained with smoke and blood, and he panicked, falling instantly towards Tifa's limp body.
"Tifa," the guard gasped, shaking her shoulders. She didn't respond, her eyes fluttering only briefly before she fell unconscious again.
He took her into his arms, his body shaking with white, hot rage.
No. It couldn't be.
Tingles went up my spine as I watched the Shinra troop lay Tifa somewhere safer, off the path, and he swiped her bangs away from her eyes.
"Cloud..." I was at a loss for words, eyes glued to the hidden character, when he whispered, "I'm sorry I'm late."
My guide avoided my speculation, instead, following the Shinra guard up the steps towards the Jenova room. I joined, avoiding the mess of Mako and blood.
The guard picked up the Buster sword and held it steadily, his tight fingers curled around its handle with steadfastness. His body trembled, chin pale under his helm. Something in the guard rattled so hard, tears streaked over his teeth.
One step, and then another, until his feet quickened, the momentum gaining until he was sprinting. With a battle cry, sweat and tears specking off his hidden face, the Shinra guard lunged into Jenova's room, holding the Buster sword in a jab.
He stabbed straight into Sephiroth's back, a clean cut that went all the way through until the handle almost touched his bloody skin.
Sephiroth grunted from the blow, silent with admiration, followed by shock.
"Who is capable of having me draw blood?" Sephiroth purred, and he coughed, blood splattering on the floor and over his black boots.
"Tifa, my family, my hometown, give it back!" Screamed the guard, and he yanked the sword free from Sephiroth, leaving behind a gushing wound.
Sephiroth fell to one knee, his shoulders shaking. I thought he was shaking from the injury, but he was laughing.
"What a twist. It's the pathetic little car-sick one that stops me," he muttered, and slowly, he turned around, his face perspired under that dry smile of his. Without warning, the Masamune slicked through the air, but with quick detection, the guard blocked it. Buster sword against Masamune seemed just as opposite as a Santoku knife against a bread knife, uncertain which was more beneficial in the fight. My eyes could barely keep up, the two blades clashing together in front of Jenova's tank. Pipes were cut, spilling steaming Mako. Wires sliced until they sparked.
"Enough!" Sephiroth bellowed, unleashing a wind spell with a mighty push of his hand. Materia glimmered from under his Mythril bracer, and a powerful gust of wind knocked the Shinra guard off his feet.
He screamed, being blown back, dropping the bloody Buster sword. Just like Zack's fate, the guard landed on the steps, his body twisting and smashing into broken pods. His helmet protected his skull from the fall, but it cracked, and bounced off.
The helmet rolled away, falling down the steps clumsily until it reached the bottom, its lenses cracked and tough plastic frame chipped in many places.
I searched for the guard's body, but had little time to do so as Sephiroth limped away from Jenova's room. In one hand, he held her head with his fingers gripping her helmet, her neck oozing with clear liquid.
I swallowed, clutching my neck tight while watching Sephiroth struggle, blood trickling down his body, a trail of bright red drops left behind. He waved his sword with his other hand, his aqua eyes glowing with a fierce determination.
"This way, Mother. I promise you, I won't let you down," the crazy man said sweetly to Jenova's head.
When he left the room, I searched for the fallen Shinra guard among the piles of dead monsters. Someone groaned, gloved hands reaching into the middle aisle, and then a body pushed itself up on all fours.
Blond, spiky hair rose from the piles of incubators, followed by the Shinra uniform.
I stayed quiet, captivated that the one limping before me, was Cloud.
He groaned, shaking his head as he breathed heavily, trying to stand on his two feet.
I felt my guide watch me from behind, and I whispered, knowing that he was listening, "You were the Shinra Infantryman all along? Why would you lie about that?"
I turned, catching a glimpse at Cloud turning away. He sighed, looking down at the gloves of a low Shinra worker. He was in his blue uniform, the SOLDIER metal pauldron gone from his shoulder, his Mythril bracers gone, his belts, the black shirt and pants. All of SOLDIER, even the Mako from his eyes, disappeared.
"I didn't mean to," young Cloud whispered. He walked pass me, suddenly taking in the role of his memory. He picked up the Buster sword, ready to try again, as he glared down at Sephiroth's bloody trail.
"Follow the blood, and it leads you to fucking Sephiroth," he muttered to himself.
"Cloud..."
Cloud and I turned, and Zack's head shook when he tried to lift it off the Mako mess. One of his Mako eyes opened, lifting his lips into a weak smile.
"Kick his ass," Zack grunted, giving a thumbs up with a shaky hand caked in blood.
Cloud nodded, and turned to run down the stairs, Zack's sword ready in his hand. I tried to catch up, almost slipping over Tifa's blood.
"Wait, you mean, you didn't mean to lie to us?" I cried.
Cloud slipped through the only entryway, and caught up with Sephiroth, shouting his name as loud as he could, his voice reaching up towards the high ceilings of pipes. I stopped short before stepping over a bridge, no rails, no barries, nothing but a simple slip over the edge and fall into a glowing swirling mess of Mako. It's intoxicating smell, made my stomach flip as I stayed near the doorway, clutching to it while I watched Cloud suddenly get stabbed.
"Cloud!" I screamed, uncertain what I could do. I tried telling myself this was only a memory, but I couldn't relax.
I began to sweat, breathing fast while watching Sephiroth's sword lift Cloud's body up high, the blade wedge in the middle of his chest just below his sternum.
That's where he got his scar. The reveal finally made sense, seeing how Sephiroth's long sword struck through to the other side, extending three feet from Cloud's back.
For a moment, Cloud did nothing but wince, blood quickly spreading around his uniform.
Shaky hands gripped the blade.
"No. I won't go that easy. I'll make sure you die first," Cloud growled through his teeth. His eyes flared, a power growing inside him, power that was his and his alone, not Mako, not magic, nothing but his own determination to destroy the man who took away his home, his dreams, and his family.
Sephiroth's aqua eyes widened. I've never seen him so ill prepared before.
Even his hand holding his Masamune trembled, Cloud's feet back to the bridge.
"What is this?" Sephiroth gulped, stunned at Cloud's ability to take the blade that was still deep through his body, and yet, the young man clutch to it tightly with both hands. It cut into his palms and fingers easily, blood dripping from his cheap gloves to land near his boots. It all slipped in between the grids, falling into the Mako to mix with it.
"I will kill you!" Young Cloud announced, blood and saliva spraying when he screamed it. He glared at Sephiroth with all the hate in the world. Astonishing strength flooded young Cloud's body, pumping into his arms, and into his hands when he gripped the blade tighter, no longer attuned to the pain and wounds inflicted upon them. With this strength he acquired through the passion for his home, Cloud's bloody hands swung the sword, and Sephiroth was thrown off the edge.
The villagers dropped like flies around him. Tifa couldn't touch him. Zack couldn't stop him.
But Cloud... He carried a great strength that had been asleep until that moment, when he tossed the most powerful man to his death.
The Masamune. Jenova's head. Sephiroth.
They all plummeted into the large collection of Mako boiling below.
Cloud just stood there, watching everything dissolve in the Mako like an acid bath. Unexpectedly, he slowly turned his head, and I thought he smirked right at me, blood around his lips when they curved upward into a smile.
But then he hacked, and collapsed. Cloud suddenly grew limp, and fell, shoulder first, on the bridge.
I rushed towards him, shaking his shoulders.
"Cloud, stay awake!" I wailed. One of his bloody hands gripped mine, and gasped, holding still to watch his eyes flutter open. He shook as he turned his head, his rare strength dwindling. He looked up at me with his youthful smile, blood glossing over his teeth.
"I live, remember?"
"But how?!" I cried.
The right question, again, asked.
Time had passed, but it only seemed like another minute before Shinra troops and scientist infiltrated the reactor.
I rose, stunned to find Hojo among the group. He looked hardly any different, still a head of greasy black hair, wearing his lab coat like a hero's cape. The sinister scientist sniffed around the place, inspecting bodies behind his round glasses.
He peered down at an injured Cloud lying on a gurney, the young man unconscious and unaware of what was happening to him.
"Ah, yes. This one may be of use to me," Hojo hissed.
Cloud and Zack were taken away. Tifa was nowhere to be found, perhaps swept from the scene by one of the survivors or her martial arts master? Cloud's memory didn't display it.
I uneasily trekked behind Hojo, feeling cold and alone.
But the memory faded, and I walked back to my safety lamp post again.
I sucked in a breath, not expecting to be back under the light. I had more questions than I did before, unsatisfied with the end.
"Wait!" I cried. What about after Nibelheim? Was that not retractable in Cloud's head?
"What about after Nibelheim? Where did those five years go?!" I screeched out into the darkness.
"It's my turn," Cloud's voice whispered.
I spun, finding him leaning against the lamp post, his arms crossed and looking at me with a hard, glowing stare. He looked like the real Cloud, but how could I tell?
Not nearing him, I clenched my fists at my sides, and dared ask, "Which Cloud are you?"
"The last one," he muttered, unfolding his arms and stepping towards me.
I pressed my arms against my chest almost as a shield, still easily twisting from his dominating presence when he came in closer. He stopped short, keeping a comfortable space between us, and lent me his hand. I blinked at it, almost afraid to take it. I had a feeling I knew where this Cloud was going to take me, and I shook my head.
"I...I don't know if I want to. If Cloud has a reason to repress this memory, then maybe it's for the best. He said so himself, he doesn't care anymore, right?"
Cloud's chest lifted as he took in a deep breath, his glowing eyes glued to mine with a strained expression.
"He needs to know," he began, and took my hand before I could refuse again. His eyes lingered, making my face grow so hot, I shrank away to distance myself.
"You need to know," he ended, and finally, he turned around, guiding me.
I weakly fought against his hold, the lamp's light disappearing behind us. We walked through the dark, Cloud appearing to know the way, but I couldn't see him. I inched closer, taking his whole arm into my hands, and held on tight.
"Where are we going?"
Cloud didn't answer.
Gates rose from the darkness, a mansion sitting darkly behind them.
We stopped before the battered cast iron gates, with tall iron bars expanding at each end.
"The Shinra Manson," I whispered.
Cloud guided me towards the gate, and pushed it open. The wide, front yard didn't seem much different from it did today, many weeds and neglected trash across the front of the place. The mansion seemed both still occupied and yet, neglected at the same time. Perhaps uncared for while its users settled behind its broken-down skin of brick. I clutched to Cloud's arm tighter, having him guide me towards the double doors. He laid a hand to one of them, his glove swiping away dust from a paneled window.
He frowned at the collected filth in his glove when he turned it over, and pushed the door open, chains magically snapping off as though the memory has been locked up for a long time.
"Here we go," he groaned.
It all came back to me, the room on the second floor with the smoke stack. It opened, letting us enter the creepy spiral staircase.
Stepping through the dungeon hallway towards the basement, I stopped short before Cloud forced me to walk into the lab, its only metal door in the way.
"Wait, give me a minute," I protested, pulling out of his hard grip.
But Cloud held on too tight, and he turned towards me, frowning.
"I know this will be painful. I'm not looking forward to it either," he admitted.
I dodged Cloud's deep gaze, forcing him to let go of my hand, just so that he could grip my shoulders.
"You're not alone," he reminded me. Those words rang another bell of a memory between us, and we both gasped.
"I said that to you before, didn't I?" He quickly asked, fingers gripping harder.
With courage, I looked up into his eyes, desperate to kiss him but fought against the hunger, still uncertain who this Cloud was, but it wasn't my Cloud. His memories still scattered, leaving only this Cloud as a fragment of the whole piece.
"You did, when you saved me from the Lifestream," I whispered.
Cloud smirked, baffled by that truth like it wasn't something he normally would do for anyone.
His hands slipped off, and he turned his back to me, holding the rough, metal doorknob.
"If you can get through this, then you will find the real Cloud," he assured me, feeling how much I've missed him.
How many more hurdles will it take to finally deserve the real Cloud? How many more doors to open, memories to past?
This was supposed to be the final one, and yet, I knew it would also be the hardest.
I tensed, hearing how the metal door creaked heavily against Cloud's strength. He took my hand, and together, we entered a room glowing in green.
Mako hurled up my nose, making me taste its odd, cold pressure on my tongue before I drew an inhale. I came to a stand still in the middle of the room, faded Mako mist leaking from the vents.
The first to easily take notice, were the tanks.
Many of them stood, scattered inside the lab, glowing in a greenish blue Mako bath. Bodies stood lifelessly inside those tanks, bodies of regular looking people, perhaps worn and torn from some kind of wounds left to heal on their own.
I swallowed, a hard lump stuck in my throat. My hands grasped my neck, palms resting over my aorta to feel it pulse faster, and clamped my lips shut, refusing to breathe in the stench of this foul place.
Computers beeped, powered by tiny pipes of more Mako, the energy saturating the basement easily.
Bookshelves clung to the Mako stained walls, papers sticking out from many of the books like quick sprawled notes were jammed in there.
Someone squeezed my hand, as though to wake me up from this awful daze I stumbled into. I almost forgot I had Cloud with me, and I flickered my eyes to him, meeting his cautious eyes. He turned his head, suddenly preoccupied by glancing to a pair of tanks to the far wall. I took it as a sign to look with him, latching on to the bodies inside.
Like a reflex, my hand yanked free, meeting with my other to ram over my lips when my mouth feel open, smothering a gasp I sucked in so loudly, I choked.
My stomach twisted in a hot, smoldering tightness, causing me to almost double over and trip on my own two feet. My hands stopped me, landing hard on a table, my face almost kissing the blood staines from it.
It wasn't just any table.
I shuddered, gasping as I recoiled from the exam table, stained with many spots of blood from many bodies.
"No," I whimpered, looking back to the tanks while Cloud steadied me from behind by holding my shoulders. I fell back against him, trying to look away while the Mako light turned my face blue.
"No," I begged again, wanting to leave. This wasn't a memory. This was a nightmare!
"Aqua, he has to know," Cloud shuddered, trying to hold me in place to make me look, his hands stone hard as they twisted me around.
"Look."
I flared my hands over my face, tears running between my fingers when I squinted them shut.
Cloud shook me with his hands, his voice adding to his intensity when he strongly demanded, "Look!"
Bit by bit, my hands dropped, eyelids pulled back. The tanks were blurry at first, nothing but a haze of something inside a Mako fog. Wider, they opened, until, finally, as tears leaked and obscured my vision, I saw him for a moment. It became blurry, and I wiped the tears to give me enough time to see it all clearly, sniffing more of them up.
Cloud floated in that tank, his body strapped to wires.
I was suddenly getting a glimpse of what he might have seen when he saw me in a tank. Switching roles, I may have finally understood how he felt. Once I saw him, I couldn't look away, a quick wave of tears coming and going as they grew and dripped.
"All this time?" I exhaled quietly, the lump creeping up my nose and mouth. My lungs solidified, difficult to breathe, and my chin itched, tears collecting there like crawling insects.
Cloud withdrew his hands, freeing me from his hold.
"Five years," he muttered.
I stepped up to the tank, and pressed my hands against the cold glass. The Mako must've been freezing, Cloud's skin almost appearing Arctic blue. His eyes were shut, soft green hair lifted along with his old, Shinra uniform. The scientists didn't even bother to undress him or give him new clothes. They simply threw him in a tank, his deep cut into his chest left to heal all on its own as the Mako slithered inside it, poisoning his body.
My forehead touched the glass.
"This is where you've been the whole time. After Nibelheim," I whispered, unable to grasp such a difficult truth.
Five years taken away from him.
Footsteps clanked loudly over the stained cement floor, and I turned around, finding Hojo, followed by another scientist.
He disregarded me, after all, I was just a ghost, and he scrunched his face up to Cloud's tank with a hiss.
"Still hardly wakes up. It's a shame. We may throw this one out," he suggested. His assistant scribbled it down next to a number, and used a red pen to make an "x" over it. Hojo stepped towards the other tank attached to Cloud's, the specimens all a private gallery for him to marvel alone.
His eyes glowed at the specimen inside.
"Ah, but this one is stubborn. Strong, determined, and carries so much hope in his Mako eyes," he gushed, hands clasped together. I peered over his shoulder, shocked to discover Zack in the other tank. He was awake, and through the bubbles lifting from his mask, his bright eyes glared right at Hojo.
This didn't seem to impress him, for he shrugged, and said over his shoulder, "Let's add another ten milliliters of Jenova's cells into this one tomorrow morning, and see what happens."
His assistant nodded, writing it down next to Zack's number.
Hojo sighed, turning his back to the two tanks, and ran a long, stubby finger under his chin.
"If we don't get any response from the other one by morning, throw him in the pits," he proclaimed, and his assistant nodded.
Hojo glanced at his watch.
"Hmmm, I will me heading back to Midgar in about an hour. I expect you have all my orders written down?" He laid a cruel eye on the other scientist, and there was a gulp from the kid.
"Of course, Dr. Hojo. I will keep everything in order," he confirmed, though the clipboard quaked in his hands.
Hojo scoffed as he walked away, heading towards the door.
"Don't have too much fun without me," was his farewell, and he left his playground casually, hands stuffed in his lab coat's pockets.
Enough of the memory, I looked away from the tanks, and asked Cloud, "How did you ever escape?"
His eyes glued to his fallen self, losing his thoughts to the disturbing scene like it came from a horror movie.
"Zack," he whispered.
The Mako lab rippled away, as though Cloud saying that name, was what he needed to admit, and it bought us back home.
Under the tall lamp, I noticed three other Cloud's waiting for us. I was puzzled, unsure as to what I should do next, until Little Cloud walked up to me. He took my hand, and gave me a smile from his scratched up face.
"Now you know everything," he reminded me.
I nodded, trying to smile, but I was still hurt by all the events I saw, most of them heart-breaking.
"I just find it so hard to believe, how much you've been through," I admitted, and another set of tears escaped.
"Well, it happened, and now you know why he repressed it," the last Cloud muttered. He stood with the rest of them, four different versions of Clouds standing there with me under the lamp, flashing hard truths from their eyes.
"It sucks, but I'd rather know than just blank out for five years. Good thing he's not some lunatic," teenage Cloud grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"His memories were messed with, making him think he was Zack, thanks to the Mako poisoning and their conjoined tanks. He didn't lie. He didn't know he did anyway," Shinra Cloud clarified, crossing his arms. His gloomy eyes watched me carefully, to find understanding in my bewildered stare.
"He thought he was Zack..." I muttered, trying to follow. I was uncertain how I could understand the disorders that came with Mako poisoning, and felt a bit lost, only to say that Cloud's memories were altered, leaving him to believe he was the hero he always wanted to be.
It turned out he was so much more than that, and goosebumps tickled my arms.
Someone suddenly tugged at my hand, and I turned to find little Cloud giving me a boyish grin.
"Come on, it's time to put him back together!" He cheered, and he began to run as though I was expected to follow him. Was I ready to go? If I could, I would stay under the lamp for years and years, processing all that Cloud experienced until I knew him better than I know how to breathe.
I tried to match the child's enthusiasm, but threw out a crooked smile, gasping in tears as I tried to catch up with him, my legs moving too slow.
Little Cloud ran too quickly, fading in the darkness, along with the other Clouds, until I lost track of them, or maybe it was my tears melting them away. I rubbed at my eyes, inhaling more gasps.
"I'm trying, Cloud," I sobbed, the excitement easily overrun by the crippling truth of the past I've just braved through. Now I could feel traces of it seizing my insides, in a place where it made a home, to stay forever.
I was running in the dark, unsure as where they all the Clouds disappeared to, but I kept running, running and crying with my short hair bouncing to each step. The more I tried to swipe the tears, the more they rebelled, my face drenched.
Through the blurriness and sobs, a small light appeared.
I stopped to take note of what stood ahead, sniffling as I tried to calm.
In the dark, I was expecting Nibelheim, the place inside Cloud's heart where his defragmenter soul laid trapped.
I was entirely wrong.
Instead, I walked towards the old church in Sector 5 slums. Aerith's church.
Its doors opened for me, the old wood whining from the rusted hinges. My bare feet stepped inside, skipping over crooked floorboards and pulled out nails, the chapel as I remembered it. Though, no light entered through the tall, paneled glass windows, no familiar colors laying patterns into the floor. No sunshine crashing inside the church through the opened doors. It was all in shadow, but not like night, it was more of an infestation to the place.
Across the darkness, over rows of crooked pews, and down the aisle, stood the only source of light to all of Cloud's troubled spirit. A small ray of sunshine, and it landed softly over the drooped shoulders of someone standing over there in the flowers.
I stopped short, standing so stiff, the only movement I portrayed were from my eyes when they widened, glistening with fresh tears atop old ones.
The real Cloud.
He stood there, his head low in his hands, Buster sword stuck to his back. His spiky hair pointed at me as he whimpered under the faint sun, like it was burning through him. Its light glimmered off his arms, his skin almost glassy from how he sweated in his SOLDIER uniform. His boots mashed the poor yellow and white flowers, shuffling over them clumsily.
Carefully, after shaking for a long time while I watched him, my lips opened.
"Cloud?"
Suddenly, he stopped trembling, my voice startling him. I waited, fists tight over my thighs, and watched his hands wither away, limped at his sides like a puppet without a master. Head still low, eyes to his boots, Cloud uttered, "Stay away."
I took a cautious step closer.
"Cloud, let me help you," I whispered, taking it slow.
Was he afraid? Is the Jenova cells still flourishing inside him? Why did he want me to stay away?
Cloud winced, his head in his hands again.
"Stay back!" he cried.
I threw my hand through the air as I replied strongly, "No! I've gone too far to just run away! I'm staying here!"
"I'm…" Cloud struggled with himself, his body trembling violently.
"I can't stop…Damn it!"
Cloud then inhaled, and it dragged, as though he was savoring the creeping shadows, sucking in all the darkness and Mako that was infiltrating his soul.
He lifted his head, eyes closed, and a smirk crept up his face.
I stiffened.
Cloud opened his eyes, and I recognized them. Those glowing green, cat eyes. He wasn't Cloud anymore. The possessed warrior smiled at me as he drew his massive sword, and held it firmly in both hands. Yellow and white flower petals flared up into the air by the force of how he lowered his sword, legs widening as his boots scraped across the flowers carelessly.
"If I kill you, that will be it. You will die, and I stay here," corrupted Cloud sneered, or was it Jenova's cells?
Sweat collected under my neck, my arms slowly opening up as the heat rushed into them from my chest. Green light danced around my trembling hands.
Magic versus sword? I saw this as an unfair fight, but I wasn't going to back down.
I clenched my teeth, squinting at Cloud in fresh tears.
"This is bullshit," I gasped, not desiring to fight him, but couldn't find an alternative way either. Magic swirled up my legs, sprouting outward like a fountain, lifting my short hair and casting green light under my eyes.
Without warning, Cloud dashed towards me, feet in the air, the flowers scattering behind him by a blast of energy from his launch. Sword ready, he aimed its pointed end towards me.
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