... I was waiting for so long
For a miracle to come
Everyone told me to be strong
Hold on and don't shed a tear
Through the darkness and good times
I knew I'd make it through
And the world thought I had it all
But I was waiting for you

Hush, now
I see a light in the sky
Oh, it's almost blinding me
I can't believe I've been touched by an angel with love

Where it was dark, now there's light
Where there was pain, now there's joy
Where there was weakness, I found my strength
All in the eyes of a boy...

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Not again…

Cloud had, like clockwork, gotten himself roped into something he hadn't signed up for. He had every intention to deliver his package to his target destination in one long stretch, something he often enjoyed and did often, but today's weather promised to disagree.

He always enjoyed the peace of mind that the road's winding stretches offered him. He'd wake up, same routine as normal, around four in the morning when he knew for certain he could slip past Tifa's defenses—when he could still afford to make a little commotion in her house from brushing his teeth and packing what was left to pack of his bags; most of his important belongings could all fit in his backpack or in the saddlebags of his motorcycle, so the extras were mostly things like water or food, a defense strategy he had devised to be able to drop ship at a moment's notice.

Cloud felt the most real in the early hours of the morning, while he tiptoed around this unfamiliar house that would never feel like a home—no matter how desperate Tifa was. Somewhere in the shadow of the morning, Cloud Strife had the space to really exist. If only for a moment, if only for the four seconds of eye contact in the bathroom mirror, or in the split second where he'd catch his reflection in the jet black glass of the window right above the bars sink, Cloud could be real again. The silence was gentle; this hour was his hour to breathe, to play house in this strange little world that always felt claustrophobic for him in a way no one else could understand. He often thought to himself about never returning, about bolting out as he'd always dreamed of… and often he would press his deliver routes out further and further, using them as excuses to cover more ground, to spend more days having just enough of a purpose to tune out reality, to tune out the world, to just float—just day by day, hour by hour, kilometer by kilometer, time would pass by and he could come back peacefully—until….

Yes, the reason why he always came back to this place, to Tifa, to Barrett, Denzel, all the rest, wasn't primarily out of guilt as Tifa often grilled him about. No, it was admittedly selfish, a wound Cloud felt so deeply it was humiliating. Out there, on the open road, in all of his freedom of this New World, he could never shake that feeling that he was still searching, searching for a man who would never be found again, a man that had stopped being what he'd known longer than ten years ago. Between the lines drawn out on his well-worn map, between the destinations he had tracked to pick up and drop off, Cloud was safe, released from his task of this senseless search—but the moment that he had completed all his deliveries… that sensation descended upon him to claim him. It was terrifying, a sense of freedom that only mocked him, a world where he saw the Man in everything, but the Man would never see him, would never see anything again. One of the only places in the world tight enough to choke out that longing was this tiny bar Tifa ran. He could only stand it long enough to snap himself out of it or to secure a job, another way to make time pass, to distract him once more.

However, even though Cloud had the perfect morning today on paper, the radio told him otherwise. As Cloud adjusted his bag over his shoulders and gathered the fusion sword from its home resting against the outermost wall in Tifa's well organized porch, he heard the gentle voice from the radio warn him of high winds and rain along the coast he was headed. He was too lost in his memories to pay much heed, picturing as he always did when he retrieved the Fusion Sword from its place how Denzel and Marlene would both scramble into the house to find him anytime they saw that sword back in this spot, running all through the bar shouting "Cloud's home, Cloud's home!". The memory stung, but it was also a nice reminder to himself that, no matter how empty the world felt once he stepped outside, there could always be a place to return where he would be missed.

One day he could pretend to have a family, he reasoned to himself often. I just need to get stronger.

Despite the warnings, Cloud very slowly, so as to make the smallest amount of noise—Tifa was most sensitive to the creak of the metal doorknob of their front door—helped himself out and into the front yard. He breathed a sigh of relief, letting go of some of his tension since he'd made his well-choreographed escape, feeling a little rush of adrenaline at getting away with his secret as he knocked down the kickstand to his bike and helped himself on. An instant feeling of comfort rushed in through the sensation of that ice-cold steel in his hands. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, casting a hazy green glow through what remained of the smog of ShinRa, long gone but still daring to drape itself across the skies of Midgar. As Cloud sorted his things into their proper places and adjusted his mirrors, he took a moment to appreciate simpler pleasures—the sounds of the city as it was just starting to come to life, the feeling of the crisp air chilly against his skin, the sound of birds calling their songs to the morning sun. Cloud noticed that the yellow lilies he'd planted a few months ago were growing beautifully, scattered in clay pots around the front yard, the dew glittering across their delicate petals. He was happy he'd shown Marlene how to water them, proud that she'd done such a good job taking care of them.

Cloud smiled to himself as the lilies swayed in the gentle breeze, as if they were waving him goodbye. Time to go.

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Although Cloud knew that it wasn't going to be easy with the weather against him, he felt that he was prepared for the challenge and approached it mentally like it was an adventure, contemplating where he might stay overnight if he had to. Surely, he'd have to stop at the delivery site and get a bed and a shower, especially if the rain was going to be as bad as both the radio and Tifa's incessant, hysterical text messages made it sound. For most of his day, all the way until sunset, Cloud enjoyed fair weather, with few disturbances other than a monster or two that he made quick work of. Taking the long way around on his expeditions was a liberty he enjoyed; having a motorcycle that could handle the various terrain that Gaia had to offer made things smooth and effortless, essentially guaranteeing he'd never have to run into anything or anyone he didn't want to. Needless to say, his joyrides weren't at all viable exploits—or jobs—for the common folk, but that suited him and left him with well-paying jobs and virtually zero competition.

As sunset approached him, however, the coastline came into view, so did the fog. It rolled in, thick, dense, like a wall surrounding him. Without so much as a dotted line or even a road to guide him, Cloud had to slow to a crawl to try and orient himself. As darkness crept in further and further, Cloud became less and less sure of his direction. The fog was too heavy for his headlights, and as the last of his energy drained he admitted defeat and sent some sheepish texts to Reno asking how far away the next town might be so he could take a break until morning.

It was slow work. Forced to creep through a dense wood, he opted to hop off his bike, walking along beside it, thinking it smart to rely more on his feet than his trusty steed's tires through damp soil and knotted branches. By the time the clock struck one, he'd finally found his way to a humble inn—whose keepers were already prepared to see him thanks to a goofy Turk butting his nose in to try and help a friend. Cloud was embarrassed but grateful, appreciating their hospitality and a warm meal before forfeiting the night to sleep in another unfamiliar bed.

That night, the dreams he always dreaded came to haunt him once more. He couldn't help but rue any day he didn't push himself to the very brink of exhaustion, for when he wasn't completely spent, he would be caged into dreams of regrets, words unspoken, chasing the tail of a black-hooded figure, running up that hill, into caverns of ice and crystal—

Cloud awoke in a daze, feeling more tired than if he hadn't slept at all but ready to press onward with his goal, to push his awareness as much as he could into the present moment. Cloud Strife would deal with today. Today, he was a delivery man. Today, he would exchange his packages for a handsome fee. Today, he would make small talk with the elderly couple downstairs, and he would force himself not to consider what might come later, that evening, or the next day...