Happy Friday! I hope you had a great week, and as always, thank you so much for your reviews, follows, and favorites. I love hearing what you have to say, and appreciate you all so much!
Anyway, this chapter was brutal to write. If the last chapter flowed like water, then this chapter flowed like crunchy peanut butter. As in, not at all, but there are only so many times I can rewrite the dialogue before I lose my mind lol.
Enjoy the chapter :)
Even in Midgar, the dawn could be beautiful.
The pastel sky was stained in shades of violet and rose, and the bottom of the upper plate looked as if it had been kissed by gold. The air tasted cleaner. The dirt roads hadn't been trampled yet, and so the dust remained on the ground instead of in billowing clouds that choked the air and covered everything with a fine layer of brown. The shops had not yet opened. People were not yet awake. The world held its breath in preparation for the morning, and that's the way Tifa usually enjoyed starting her day; quiet, calm, and contemplative.
This early dawn, however, was spent beating the stuffing out of a punching bag. Her wrapped hands slammed against its leather in rapid, dull thuds, bruising both its hard leather and her protected knuckles. Yet she did not stop. Did not halt her assault because she needed to be at her best today; needed to be already warmed up, in perfect form, her focus treading a razor wire because Cloud wasn't here. He wasn't here, and she needed to find him. She had to.
Once she had sufficiently beaten the punching bag to a pulp, she simply took a shower and got dressed for the day. It was her usual outfit; black sports bra, white tank, black leather skirt held in place with suspenders. She also pulled on her arm warmers, and its long, black fabric was stretch taunt over her muscles as she fastened her elbow guards and red leather gloves on top.
Satisfied with her appearance, she threw the door open and made her way to the bar to meet up with Biggs and Wedge. It came as no surprise when she noticed Barret and Jessie there as well – or that she was the last to arrive, as usual.
"Good morning," she said good-naturedly as she pushed open the door. The lights were dim and cast the room, and everyone within it, in shadows. "Looks like it's an early morning for everyone."
"Mornin', Teef," Wedge said as she walked to the bar. He was sitting on one of the bar stools with a pastry in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. "Wanna bite? It's cheesy."
"I actually ate back at my apartment," she lied, "but thanks." In truth, she wasn't hungry at all. Her stomach had been doing backflips all morning. "We ready to go?"
Biggs walked up to them. "Should be," he said. Like her, he was also dressed in his tactical gear; loose-fitting cargo pants, black shirt, and an olive-green vest with plenty of little pockets. "Jessie," he added, glancing over his shoulder, "you sure the trains are running this morning?"
"I'm sure," she replied. She was sitting at one of the tables beside Barret, and seemed to be fiddling with a small radio. She twisted the dial, brow furrowed in concentration as she continued, "Might be some delays, though. Apparently the explosion caused some damage to the tracks, so some lines were re-routed."
Tifa swallowed hard. "How bad of delays?" she asked, trying to keep her tone level.
"Not too bad, considering the damage." Jessie continued to twist the dial, and the radio continued to pathetically click in response. "Maybe thirty minutes?"
Thirty… Tifa's heart sank. Thirty minutes was far too long; they had to get to the upper sector now. Cloud had never come back last night, which meant that he was up there, all alone, all by himself. What if he had another episode? Another headache? What if he had gotten confused, like he had been when she first found him? What if -
She firmly shook her head. Don't think about that, she ordered herself. Focus on what you can do.
"We'll stay at the bar, just in case Cloud makes it back on his own," Barret said, interrupting her thoughts.
And he was giving her such a soft look, obviously tiptoeing around her hurt, that she couldn't help but smile appreciatively. "Thank y-"
But suddenly, he wasn't looking at her anymore. His gaze was pinned to something outside the window, his eyes narrowed and lips pressed into a thin line.
Tifa frowned - she knew that look. "Barret?" she began, when he suddenly shot to his feet, startling her as he ran past and threw the door open.
"What the..." Jessie murmured. Her gaze had been frowning at Barret's rapidly departing back, but then her voice trailed off as someone behind the wall shouted:
"Get offa me!"
Wedge shot to his feet, pastry forgotten. "Oh shit."
"Someone was listening in," Biggs murmured, standing rigidly still. His brow creased. "But... why?"
With that, Barret suddenly hauled someone – a man wearing a black studded vest and red pants – into the bar, his lips bared in a grimace. "Biggs," he shouted, "get the rope!"
Biggs snapped to attention before doing as ordered, and then was beside Barret in a moment, deftly trying the man's arms and legs together. The man cursed and roared all the while, but immediately stilled when Barret leveled his gun arm at his head.
"Listen to me," Barret said coolly. The man whimpered beneath the barrel of the gun. "This can go only one of two ways – you cooperating and tellin' me what the hell you think you're doin', or you bein' difficult and then I got no choice but take this matter outside. But," he added, with a carefree shrug, "because I'm so damn generous, I'll let you decide which way you wanna go." His dark eyes glinted beneath the bar's dim lighting. "Understand?"
The man thickly swallowed. "I – I understand," he stammered out. "I'll cooperate, I swear it."
Jessie positioned herself to stand closer to Tifa, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "Sucks to be him," she whispered, her voice low.
Tifa couldn't help but agree.
"Good." Barret nodded, apparently satisfied by the man's timid response. "So tell me, who the hell do you work for, huh?" He knelt down to be more on the man's level, and yet Barret still managed to loom over him. "Why don't we start there?"
The man kneeling in front of Barret only paled and shook his head…
… and so Tifa decided to intervene. She took a step forward, and tugged at her gloves in a way that promised that she knew how to use them. She just prayed that she wouldn't have to. "Well?" she said, keeping her expression cool.
"Listen, you got the wrong guy," the man sputtered as he eyed the gloves faded, obviously worn, material before his gaze darted back to Barret's gun. His lower lip trembled. "I swear, I just, uh, was just lookin' around. Didn't mean to offend."
"Listen, as someone who impersonates other people for a living," Jessie frowning, hand on her hip, "I can tell when someone else is lying."
"And you're a really bad liar, bro," Wedge added as he took a sip of coffee. "Like, worse than me, and that's saying something."
Barret nodded in approval before turning back to the man, who had blanched beneath his hard stare. "You heard them," he said as he reached down to grab the man's collar. He pulled him up until his toes dragged against the floor. "So start talkin', punk. I thought you were gonna cooperate, unless you'd have it the other way and we gotta go outside."
"Okay, okay!" The man practically squeaked, his eyes widening once again at Barret's prosthetic gun. "I'll talk, I'll talk."
"And make it quick," Biggs added. "We got somewhere to be."
Tifa shot Biggs an appreciative look, who met her gaze and nodded in acknowledgment.
"W – Well," the man stammered. "You see, it's kinda funny, but, uh… So I work for this one guy, yeah?"
"Who?" Barret demanded. "You better start talkin', or -"
The man yelped when Barret took a step closer. "Corneo!" he yelled. "Corneo, of Wall Market."
Jessie made a face. "Yuck. Seriously?"
"The pay's good!" the man argued, but then his expression twisted. "Okay, so maybe not that great… but the perks are good! Sometimes he even lets us-"
"I don't care about the perks," Barret said, his voice low and gravely. "I just wanna know why one of Corneo's men is sniffin' around our bar."
The man sharply inhaled. "There's a bounty," he said in a rush. "Dunno who posted it, only Corneo knows that, but it's three hundred thousand gil that's totally up for grabs."
Tifa's eyes widened. Three hundred thousand…
"Just up for grabs?" Barret barked. "How stupid do you think I am, huh?"
"It's true!" the man insisted. "Bounty is just for some gun-arm guy and a blondie, last spotted in the slums. But I'll forget about the entire thing, yeah?" He licked his lips, sweating. "Just let me go and I swear, I won't say a word to no one. Swear it on my life. Deal? How about it?"
But Tifa had stopped paying attention halfway through his tirade. The blondie he mentioned…
Her eyes widened a fraction.
Cloud.
And then:
He was last spotted in the slums?
She took a step forward, her fingers stretched against the gloves leather. "Tell me more about the blondie.," she demanded, ignoring Jessie's suddenly concerned look. "You said that he was last seen in the slums?"
"Y – Yeah, that's right. The slums," the man stammered, apparently relieved to be speaking to someone else beside Barret. "Dunno where though, but -" His voice suddenly climbed a shrill, shrieking octave as Barret dropped him roughly on the ground and aimed his gun, and the man squirmed backward only for his back to thud against the bar counter. "Li – Li – Listen!" He kicked his legs out, trying in vain to meld into the wood at his back. "How – How about this? I'll make a deal, yeah? A good deal?"
"What deal?" Barret deadpanned.
"A – A – A good one! I'll tell you everything I know about the blondie, and I'll even forget about the bounty, yeah? Like it never happened! And I won't say a word to nobody!" he added, his expression lighting up.
Barret's gaze darkened for a moment and he hummed, low in his throat, before turning to the rest of the team. His eyes rested on Tifa last of all and after a brief pause, she slowly shook her head. We can't trust him, said the faint movement, and Barret's eyes narrowed in agreement.
"You know what," he finally said as he turned back to the man, who look back with a pallid, yet hopeful, expression. "I think I'll do you one better."
"Any – Anything!" the man stammered.
Barret thoughtfully tapped his foot against the floor. "I think I'd rather hear about the blondie from your boss."
The man blanched, and then he – to everyone's shock – laughed. "Nuh nuh nuh," he chuckled, the sound nearly hysterical. "That's definitely not how it works. See, Corneo only lets girls into his compound, yeah? And only the pretty ones at that, and no offense sir, but you are definitely neither. Now, I ain't condoning Corneo's actions here," he quickly added at both Barret and Jessie's icy glare, "but that's just how the chubby chocobo rolls, you get my meanin'?"
Barret loudly sighed. "That isn't what I was hoping to hear," he said simply, and lifted his gun again.
Tifa could hear the gears within it grind together as the metal began to heat, and the sound had her biting her lip. Barret wouldn't shoot the guy in the bar… would he?
"Oh shit!" The man's harsh yell snapped Tifa out of her thoughts, and he slammed back against the counter, rattling the glasses. "Yo, man, that ain't cool!"
"My daughter is sleepin' upstairs," Barret said in response, "and if you don't want me to shut you up, then I suggest you do it yourself."
The man promptly closed his mouth even as his eyes darted nervously to the stairs.
"Now, as I was sayin'," Barret continued, his tone strangely calm, "that wasn't what I had been hoping to hear. I want to meet with your boss, Corneo. Understand? And you are going to make that happen."
"You're – You're insane," the man hissed, his voice tight as he tried to control the volume. "You can't see Corneo, you're a man! But," he added as Barret's expression darkened, "Corneo is choosin' a wife tonight! One of you'll be able to meet him like that! One of the girls over there?" he added, his gaze darting to Tifa and Jessie.
Barret's eyes flashed. "Hell nah!"
"It's the only way," the man insisted as he turned back to Barret, "if you wanna meet Corneo. Has to be a pretty girl. Has to be tonight. Or else," he added, almost smugly, "you're better off jus' shootin' me right here, because you ain't never gonna see him."
Tifa clenched her jaw.
"Listen here, asshole -"
"That's really the only way?" she asked Corneo's man, cutting Barret off. He shot her a quick look of alarm, a look shared by the rest of the team, but she ignored it all. She had put Cloud is so much danger – it was only fair if she did the same.
The man met her gaze and smirked. "That's right. It's the only way. And if there was another," he quickly added, his attention jumping back to the gun, "I swear I'd tell you fine people, yeah? But there ain't."
Tifa's crossed her arms over her chest, weighing it over in her mind. How difficult could it be? She was a good fighter, and knew that she was skilled enough to keep herself safe. Not to mention that she considered herself to be pretty enough; not a stunner, maybe, but she kept her body in shape and she had been told by Jessie on numerous occasions that she had good, well, assets. And if she pulled out one of her old dressed, maybe borrowed a little bit of Jessie's make-up…
Her hands formed fists at her side. "I'll do it," she said, and her declaration came as no surprise to anyone.
She could hear Barret's barely audible sigh, feel his frustration spark the room, before he turned back to the man and ground out, "You heard her. Now what?"
"Now she has to be chosen." The man had visibly relaxed, looking every bit as if he had won. "And then I present her to the judges."
Biggs made a face. "Holy Hades," he cursed. "Judges?"
"Actual judges?" Wedge added, also pulling a disgusted face.
"Don't look so surprised," Jessie said, though she didn't look very pleased either. "This kind of reminds me of auditioning."
Wedge frowned at her. "But you hated auditioning."
"I did," Jessie grimaced. "Bombs are definitely more my sty -"
"Guys," Tifa murmured, and the affect was instantaneous. It was often that Tifa chastised, but when she did…
"Sorry, Teef," Biggs murmured, offering her a faint smile.
She only shook her head. The less that Corneo's man knew of what they did… the better.
"And this judging is happening tonight?" Barret asked.
"That's right," the man replied. "But the sooner we head out, the better. You know – need to get our little lady prepared."
The room seemed to chill ten degrees. "I'm not your anything," Tifa told him, her tone like cracking ice, before walking to the door. "And I'll get myself prepared. Meet back here in..." She mentally did the math. "Two hours."
With that she threw open the bar door, not caring that the man was still tied up and on the ground behind her, or that the rest of the team was staring at her back. Instead she closed her eyes and tilted her head towards the dawn, which had delicately splayed itself between the upper plate and the rugged horizon.
Don't worry, Cloud, she silently whispered. I'm on my way.
It was a peaceful morning, the sort that was so common in books but so rare in real life. Sunlight spilled in through the open window and warmed rectangles on the floor, while a soft breeze, cool and sweet, pillowed the faded curtains and rustled the bedsheets. Birdsong accompanied the wind, and the happy melody was joined by the sound of a babbling creek. Flowers brushing against each other as they waved to the morning sun. Voices, sweet and feminine, speaking to one another as they tended the small garden. In short, it was peaceful. Wonderful. Almost as if the sky hadn't been burnt red with flames just a short night ago.
Within the bedroom window, however, it was far less peaceful. Far more still. There was a heavy atmosphere here, one that not even the whispering breeze or the sweet birdsong could chase away, and it only seemed to grow heavier as the morning dragged on. It held an ominous weight. A haunting stillness. A holding of breath as the world waited for something, the tense sort of waiting that made it difficult to breathe, or think, or feel.
But then Cloud opened his eyes, and the heavy atmosphere was blinked away – just like that.
What the…
The first thing his sleep-addled mind realized was that the ceiling was clean, which had him idly blinking in confusion. It was perfectly white instead of the creamy, off-white, strangely stained shade he knew from Tifa's apartment, and there was an actual light fixture dangling from its center. It almost looked like a simple chandelier, his eyes drifted towards it even as a small frown curved his lips. Floral wallpaper covered the walls and framed the wooden furniture. Potted plants arched towards the pale sunlight peeping in through the window. Paintings, messy and clearly handmade, were scattered against the floor, which had him scowling in confusion – Tifa doesn't paint.
And then it hit him:
This isn't Tifa's apartment.
Sudden alertness tore white-hot through his veins like a gunshot, and he jackknifed upright, his breath catching in his throat. Where the h – his thought began, but abruptly cutoff as sudden lightheadedness had him sagging against the bed's headboard, blinking rapidly against the black spots sparking in his vision. He squeezed his eyes shut as he pressed a hand against his temple. What... happened?
When the sudden dizziness finally passed, he lifted his head, trying to take it all in. But nothing was familiar. Not the dresser, not the rug, not the wallpaper. Not even the clothes he was wearing, which smelled as if they had been freshly laundered, and with a start he realized that he was clean, too. Soot and ash no longer coated his skin, and he vaguely smelled of soap instead of smoke… which led to an entirely new set up thoughts, none of which made him happy in the slightest.
But don't think about that. He ran a hand through his hair, and his fingers roughly pulled at the golden strands. Calm down. Figure out what you know.
Which, admittedly, wasn't much. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to think back, tried to remember, but his recall was spotty at best and nonexistent at worst. The previous morning was the most vivid in his mind; he had spent it with Tifa, which had been nice, and then that night he met up with Barret and the others at the train station. From there, they had gone above the plate to carry out the mission – blow up Mako Reactor One.
A dull headache pulsed between his eyes at the memory, and Cloud pressed a hand against it, willing it to go away, willed himself to remember everything else. And then… And then his recollection became less of a timeline and more of a collection of images. Fighting Shinra Security Guards. A flash of pain against his cheek. The sound of gunfire, and hurrying from one place to the next. Someone opened up the door to the reactor and then the sharp metallic tang of mako, which twisted his stomach even now, before making their way down to the reactor's core.
From there, his recall simply fell apart. All that was left were brief flashes of color. Red splashed against the sky, things falling in the street, meeting someone wearing pink. A hand on his back, helping him through somewhere dark. The faint whistle of a train. Someone saying something to him, something important…
"...Real?" Cloud murmured the word before his mind had caught up, but then moment he said it, he knew that it sounded right. More than right. He could suddenly breathe a little easier. Something inside of him wasn't coiled quite as tightly.
But what does that mean? he wondered, turning his glare to the nightstand. What's real?
But then, something he saw on the nightstand made him pause. There was a half-drunk potion there, the faint green liquid pooling within the glass vial, and it had him frowning all over again. He did have a vaguely sour taste in his mouth…
Someone gave me a potion? His brow creased at the thought. But that… doesn't make any sense. Potions were expensive. The infantry had rationed them for a reason, to the point that only squad leaders could administer potions or high-potions so they weren't wasted on superficial cuts or bruises. So why would a total stranger…
He shook his head; there was too much he didn't know, and worrying about it wasn't doing him any favors. It doesn't matter, he decided, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He couldn't do anything about what had happened yesterday, but he could something now. And what he needed to do was, somehow, make his way back to Tifa. She was probably worried about him... especially if he never made it back to her apartment last night.
He had to get back to her - had to - and with that thought firmly planted in his mind, he pushed himself upright in an attempt to stand. His legs trembled beneath his weight, but they held, and he managed to hobble his way to the window. Gotta figure out where I am first, he decided, and in a single, fluid motion, he flung aside the billowing curtains...
...only to gasp, wide-eyed, at the scene stretched out beneath him.
He had to rest his hands against the window frame to maintain his balance. It's so… so green, he thought numbly. From the second-story window, he could clearly make out an actual garden beneath him, full of vibrant vegetables and colorful plants that he did not know the names to. Beyond the garden was a rocky path, one that meandered through a flower field, over a small river, and then trailed beside a rocky face before it disappeared around the corner.
But it was the waterfall – a real, actual waterfall – splashing into the river that had him blinking dumbly. Within the waterfall's spray, a glistening rainbow wavered in the air, suspended, before the water crashed into a river so clear that the bottom looked like stained glass due to the smooth, colorful rocks resting there. Small fish darted through its shimmering waters while birds waited on the muddy riverbank, their black eyes trained on the silhouettes flicking just beneath the surface. A butterfly fluttered from flower to flower beside them.
This is… Cloud thickly swallowed, trying and failing to collect his thoughts. I'm still… Is this Midgar? He leaned out the open window, trying to see more of the landscape. The rocky cliffs surrounding the house looked like Midgar; he wouldn't mistake that red dirt or desolate cliff faces for anywhere else, but the rest of it looked like it had been plucked out of a storybook. It didn't seem real.
And then the door creaked open. Cloud turned to the sound instinctively, if only half paying attention; he still couldn't wrap his mind around the scenery outside. It was just so green, and the river looked so clear…
But then he saw who had walked into the room, and all of his thoughts – all of his aimless wondering – crashed to a grating, collapsing halt. His eyes widened; the mako within them flared.
Zack?
It had to be. It certainly looked like him, though at the same time, there were subtle differences. Zack was taller than Cloud had remembered him being- back in the infantry, the top of Cloud's head could graze his chin, but now he wasn't sure if he even came up to Zack's shoulder. But more than that, Zack looked older, too. Not just his body, which had broadened and had filled out, but in his expression, too. His shadowed gaze. The hard set to his lips as he fiddled with the stuck door latch, lost in his own thoughts.
Also, another difference was that this Zack was very much not dead.
Cloud blindly reached behind him, searching for something to hold on to, to steady himself, and his fingers numbly wrapped around the window frame. "Zack," he breathed, his heart thundering in his chest. Not dead. "You're…"
His voice trailed off as Zack turned to him, stunned, before his entire expression lit up. "You're awake!" Zack let the door close behind him as he impatiently set something on the bed – a tray with two bowls and a glass of water – and then he was suddenly in front of Cloud, pulling the smaller man into a tight hug.
Cloud winced as he felt bruises – guess the half potion he had taken hadn't been enough to offset all of the damage from last night.
Zack seemed to notice and immediately pulled away, expression pinched in concern. "How're you feeling?" His hands never left Cloud's shoulders as his mako-burnt eyes flicked across Cloud's face, searching for something. What, Cloud had no idea. He was still stuck on the fact that Zack wasn't dead. "Better?" Zack continued. "Anything hurt?"
Cloud tried to respond, but just… couldn't. The words got trapped in his throat and sat there like metal barbs, pulling and tugging and ripping all the while, as old memories flicked across his eyes; blood staining a metal staircase, blood dripping from a sword, the mako in Zack's eyes going dim as he died. Died, because nobody survived losing that much blood. No body he knew, anyway.
Until now, apparently, because here Zack was. Standing in front of him. Worrying about him. Wondering if he was okay.
"You – You're… You're supposed to be dead," Cloud finally choked out.
Zack blinked before he smiled and said, his tone teasing, "Well, sorry to disappoint."
Cloud violently shook his head. "No, I'm not… I just can't believe it." He lifted a hand to his head, and didn't notice how Zack's eyes had narrowed at the gesture. "What… How? How, Zack? I thought for sure that you were..."
"That I was dead?"
"Well..." Cloud's fingers pressed against his scalp, an unconscious motion. "Yeah."
And with that, the room descended into silence. The tense sort of silence that made it hard to breathe, and then Zack suddenly sighed. He let his hands slip off of Cloud's shoulders, which had Cloud blinking at the sudden loss of weight, before he ran a hand through his dark hair. Cloud frowned at the sudden changed in his demeanor.
"You'll probably want to sit down for this," Zack finally said, his smile fading into something almost apologetic. There was a look in his eyes that Cloud had never seen before; it was shadowed, haunted, with an almost fragility that had Cloud sucking in breath.
Suddenly, he very much did not want to sit down. "Why?" he asked, almost defensively. "What happened?"
"What happened? Well..." Zack paused, worrying his lip for a moment, before he sharply exhaled. "Shiva, I don't even know where to start. But," he continued, suddenly changing topics, "you should probably eat something. You passed out before you could finish your soup last night."
"Soup?" Cloud echoed as he sat down on the bed. Last night?
Zack handed him a ceramic bowl, one filled with what looked like plain oatmeal. "Yeah, pumpkin soup. You seemed to really like it. Elmyra made it, by the way," he added. "Aerith's mom."
Cloud frowned, holding the bowl tightly in his hands. Truth be told, he was hungry; he hadn't even realized he was until Zack had said something. But, still. Eating was pretty low on his list of priorities. "Who?"
"Elmyra. This is her house, and..." Suddenly Zack laughed, low and dry. "Well, again, it's a long story. But we'll get there, I promise." He had grabbed a similar bowl and had sat down on the chair beside the bed, and now chewed his oatmeal thoughtfully, his mako-stained eyes luminous in the pale morning light. Suddenly they flicked to him, causing Cloud to almost jolt – and once again, Cloud was struck by just how not dead Zack was.
"You should take a bite, by the way," Zack said casually. "It'll help you feel better."
"I'm fine," Cloud said automatically, though he obediently took a bite of oatmeal, if only to collect his thoughts because there were just so many. So many that he suddenly felt with crystal clarity, and he was having trouble sorting through it all. "Really. I'm fine."
"You said that last night, too," Zack chuckled, which had Cloud lifted his head in surprise, but then Zack's tone changed; the lines around his mouth deepened, grew more severe as he leaned forward, his own oatmeal forgotten. "But tell me honestly, Spikey," he said, almost haltingly. "How are you feeling? Any… headaches? Fuzziness? Anything hurt at all?"
Only the faint bruises that the potion hadn't fully healed yet, but Cloud had the sense that that wasn't what Zack was asking about. "I'm fine," he said again, and added at Zack's worried look, "I promise. I… feel a lot better, actually." It was true; he could actually think clearly again, which was already a massive improvement. "But… But I'm just wondering how..."
… How you survived.
But his voice trailed off, and he could not longer spit out the words. "What happened?" he finally said instead. "Why am I here? How are you here?"
"It's…" Zack sighed. "It's a long, sad story, buddy. To be honest, I'm not sure if you even want to know."
Cloud's brow knitted in confusion as he hastily swallowed oatmeal. "What? Why?"
"Like..." Zack rubbed the back of his neck again, which was rapidly looking like a nervous tic of his. His heel bounced against the floor. "Like, what do you remember?" he finally said. "After Nibelheim?"
"After Nibelheim?"
"That's right," Zack affirmed. "Do you remember anything?"
Cloud let the spoon rest in the bowl. Nibelheim he could remember in vivid clarity, no matter how hard he tried not to, but as for what had happened afterwards... "Not much," he finally admitted. Shame kissed his cheeks a faint pink, though he did not know why. "Just the… train station. I was wearing hospital clothes and, um…" He shifted his weight slightly. "Um, Zack, was I in a hospital?"
"Yeah, for a brief time." Zack faintly smiled, almost as if there was a joke somewhere in there. "But then you checked yourself out."
Cloud's heart sank, and the spoon clicked against the bowl's ceramic. "Do you know," he murmured, his voice barely audible, "what I was in the hospital for?"
"What you were in for?" Zack's gaze narrowed at Cloud's tone; strangely enough, he almost sounded defensive. "Spikey, what do you think the hospital was for?"
"Um. For, um..." Gods, just thinking about it made his stomach twist itself into knots. "For… well..." He winced, the pressure mounting within him, because he had to ask. Had to say the words out loud, because if he didn't he'd always wonder. "Did I... Did I go crazy?" he finally said. The words came out in a rush; the building pressure had found a seam, a crack in his walls, and all of a sudden the words were tumbling out of him; a waterfall, much like the one he had seen outside the window. "Because there's something wrong with me," he said, nearly tripping over the words. "Since Tifa found me, I've, um, I've been seeing things, and hearing things, and -"
- And then there was a hand on his shoulder, and everything that Cloud had been going to say – everything he had been thinking since Tifa had found him – short circuited. He nearly flinched at the touch.
"Cloud, there's nothing wrong with you," Zack said, almost angrily. "Listen, the hallucinations are from mako poisoning. Not from you, okay? So don't think that there's anything wrong with you, because there's not."
Cloud's eyes pricked with heat, and he ducked his head before Zack could see. "But I -"
"I swear it, Spikey." Cloud felt Zack squeeze his shoulder, once, before letting go. "You told me that you're feeling better today, right?"
Cloud idly stirred the oatmeal in his bowl. "Yeah..."
"That's because I made you drink half a potion yesterday." Zack's mako-stained eyes never drifted from Cloud's expression – one that he was doing his best to hide. "Potions help with the symptoms of mako poisoning, like the hallucinations and whatnot. And you can keep taking the potions until all that excess mako is out of your system, and then you won't have to take them anymore."
Cloud dared to lift his head. "Really?"
"Yes, really. I swear it." Zack leaned back in his chair, and though his heel still bounced against the floor, he managed a small smile. "May take a little bit of time, but you'll get there. So don't worry about it, okay? There is nothing wrong with you, Cloud. I promise."
Damn if Cloud's eyes didn't burn again; but this time, he had to turn towards the window to hide it.
"How..." His voice sounded tight, almost to the point of cracking, and he quickly cleared it. "How did I get mako poisoning?"
Silence was all the answer he got, and after several tense moments, he dared to look back at Zack… only to see that Zack was staring at him, wide-eyed, with that same haunted expression he had walked in with.
"Um..." Cloud's voice sounded unnaturally loud in the suddenly silent room. "Are you okay? Did I... say something wrong?"
Zack suddenly blinked, and abruptly shook his head. "No no no," he said quickly. "Nothing wrong. It's just, that… You really don't remember anything... do you?" And he said it with such a hollowed-out smile, that Cloud felt guilty when he finally shook his head no. Sure, he remembered a few things – like Tifa finding him at the station – but that wasn't what Zack was talking about, was it? He didn't think so.
Zack, after another long moment, finally sighed. "Well, I guess if you're gonna hear about it, I'd rather you hear it from me." With that he lifted his gaze, and the mako flared hot in his gaze. "Unless," he added, sounding almost hopeful, "you don't want to?"
"I do," Cloud said quickly.
"It's… It's not a happy story, Cloud." Zack grimaced. "Trust me."
"I can take it."
"I know you can... but that doesn't mean that you have to."
"But I want to." Cloud gripped the bowl a bit tighter. "I… I want to know."
"Cloud..."
"It's not fair." Cloud glared at the oatmeal, as if it had personally insulted him. "If it's that bad, then it's not fair that you remember and I don't. I should remember it, too." He felt his cheeks heat up; he was never good with words, let alone using them to try and comfort someone else, and his inability was embarrassing. But at least he was trying. That counted for something, didn't it? "And maybe telling me about it would help you feel better," he added in a rush. "Maybe."
Zack said nothing for a long while, only stared at him wide-eyed and slack-jawed, until he suddenly chuckled. Cloud's cheeks heated further – Is he laughing at me?
"I forgot how stubborn you are," Zack finally said, shaking his head. "It's been a long time since we've actually had a conversation."
And just like that, Cloud's embarrassment shifted into something more like dread. Zack's statement was a worrisome one. Very worrisome, in fact, and it made Cloud anxious all over again – but he tried returning Zack's smile anyway, just to prove that he was okay with it. That he was fine.
"That's right," Cloud said, attempted to keep his tone lighthearted. "So you should probably start telling me."
Zack held onto his smile for a moment longer before it faltered and slipped away… and then he did, neatly summarized into the most poignant highlights.
"After Nibelheim, we were brought to a lab," he slowly began. He had leaned forward in the chair, his hands were clasped on his knees. The knuckles were white from strain, and yet his tone was almost bland. As if he didn't care at all. "Not as patients," he continued, "but as the… experiments."
Cloud's brow knitted. "Experiments?"
"That's right. I… don't really know the details." A blatant lie, because Hojo had loved blabbing about what he was doing to them… but Cloud didn't need to know all of that, not yet. "But to make a very long story short, all of it had to do with Jenova – you know, the thing that had been inside the Nibelheim reactor. Hojo had it afterwards. Kept it in refrigerated storage while he harvested its cells and experimented off of it."
"Je...nova?" It took all of Cloud's self control to keep from flinching. He knew that name, and the recognition went far deeper than just seeing the name in the Nibelheim reactor. It was as if the name was engrained beneath his skin, an inked tattoo he could never scrub away, and he clasped a hand over his bicep as a shudder coursed down his spine.
"Yeah. Jenova," Zack said again. His voice was flat, expressionless, as he continued, "Hojo called it the calamity from the skies, though he never really explained what he meant by that. Though he was - is - a crazy psychopath, so who really knew what the hell he meant by anything. I don't."
"Why did… Hojo want to experiment on us?" Cloud dared to ask.
The corner of Zack's lips twitched in a dark, humorless smile. "For nothing good," he stated. "I guess Sephiroth was his creation, someway or another, and he wanted to see if he could create us to be even better. So he did... things to us. To see if we were."
Cloud rubbed a hand against his arm, against the goosebumps suddenly blossoming there. "If we were better than... Sephiroth?"
"Apparently. Don't ask me why," Zack added. "I don't understand what the hell he was thinking, and at this point, I don't want to anymore. The less I understand of his mindset, the better. And that goes for you, too."
Cloud had nothing to say in response to that, so he didn't; he only hunched further on the bed, his hands cupping the bowl of cold, lumpy oatmeal.
"Anyway..." Zack cleared his throat. "That's what Hojo wanted us for. Injected us with stuff, to see what it did. Tested our fighting ability against whatever hybrid monsters he had created. Documented our progress. Time passed, he eventually put us in mako pods, and while I could handle it because of the whole SOLDIER thing, you had a... much harder time. Your consciousness started fading, and eventually faded entirely once the mako poisoning." Zack paused for a moment. "You were in really bad shape. Really... really bad."
"...Oh." Cloud slowly lifted a hand to his eyes, and he could faintly see their teal glow against his fingertips. So not SOLDIER eyes, he thought, but mako addict eyes. He waited for the sting of disappointment, and yet it never came; if anything, very little about it all. It didn't feel real - nothing of Zack's story did - and he slowly lowered his hand.
"Sorry." Zack's voice had Cloud looking up, just in time to see Zack's lips twitch into an apologetic smile. "You didn't quite make it to SOLDIER."
Cloud blinked. How did he know I was thinking about that? he wondered, even as he said, "It's fine."
"SOLDIER wasn't that great anyway," Zack added. "I'd say you lucked out with this one."
Cloud wasn't sure if he agreed, and only shrugged noncommittally. "It's fine," he repeated, like he didn't care at all. Because he didn't. He didn't care. "How did we get out of the lab?" he asked, changing subjects.
Zack sharply exhaled. "Luck, really. Somehow or another, I woke up in the mako pod and managed to break the glass. Then I grabbed you – you were pretty out of it by then, mako-poisoning and all – and then we got out of town and decided to go to Midgar. Well," he amended with a faint smile, "I decided to head to Midgar. You were kinda along for the ride."
Cloud frowned at that.
"But anyway," Zack continued, "lots of shit happened on our little hike east, stuff we don't have to go into right now. Basically, Shinra was chasing us, the Turks were on our tail, and eventually we made it to Midgar. But then..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, we were ambushed."
"Ambushed?"
"Yeah, buddy. In the Midgar wastes. Bunch of Shinra infantrymen pinned us down against a cliff. I was able to handle it," Zack reassured, "but I took a few good hits."
Cloud's head jerked up at that. "You got hurt?"
"Just a little. But don't worry." Zack ruffled Cloud's hair, who didn't react in the slightest. "Cissnei, who's with the Turks by the way, found us just outside of Midgar. Picked us up and took us to their fancy Turk hospital. Guess the Turks and Shinra don't really get along," he added with a faint grin.
Which is why I was wearing hospital clothes, Cloud realized. Not because I was in SOLDIER and went crazy, but because…
"And you're okay now?" Cloud ventured.
"Yeah, I'm okay." Zack gave his hair one more good ruffle, which had Cloud scowling, before he dropped his hand. "Believe me, it'll take more than a few infantrymen with guns to take me out. But anyway, you were gone, and I started looking for you. Didn't expect to find you last night," he added with a low chuckle, "but either way, it worked out. Now we're at Elmyra and Aerith's house, just for a little while until you feel better, and then we'll work something else out.
"But anyway, that's the story," he suddenly continued, changing topics. "The past five years all wrapped up in a pretty bow. The end."
But Cloud had stopped paying attention halfway through.
Hold up.
His mind tried, and failed, to understand what Zack had just said. Experiments he could handle. Freaky labs that he didn't remember at all were all well and good. But…
"Five years?" Cloud breathed. He looked up from his empty bowl, skin pallid and lips parted in horror. "It's been five years since Nibelheim?" Which means… His eyes widened. "I'm twenty one?"
Zack blinked at him before barking a laugh. "That's what you decided to focus on?" he said, hiding his shaking hands by firmly clasping them on his knees. "After everything I said? But well, yeah, Spikey. Five years. I know, I was shocked too when I found out. But don't worry about it," he quickly added at Cloud's stunned expression. "When you think about it, it's not that much time. Five years isn't too bad. It could be worse."
"B – But..." Cloud was only somewhat aware that Zack had taken the bowl out of his hands, most likely so that he didn't accidentally shatter it in his tight grip. But that left Cloud's hands empty, and so he buried them in the covers instead, his fingers digging into the floral sheets. "I… I don't remember..."
I don't remember an entire quarter of my life. And that explained so much, didn't it? Why he didn't recognize himself in the mirror. Why Tifa had looked older, and Zack too. It was because they were.
He glanced at Zack, expression pale and eyes desperate. "Five years?"
"Yeah buddy. Sorry." Zack sat beside him on the bed. "But you gotta focus on the positives right now, okay? Like that we're free, we can do whatever we want, and that we can start living again."
Living?
Cloud turned his gaze to the bedsheets, twisted and tangled beneath his hands.
Gods… he had been experimented on. Like an animal. For five years.
Sudden warmth pressed against his back – a hand, he realized numbly – but he didn't acknowledge it. He simply stared straight ahead, sightless, as Zack murmured, "I'm sorry, buddy. You had taken the news of the lab so well… Maybe I should have waited before telling you the year. Though to be honest," he added with a faint smile, "I didn't think the year would be the thing to upset you."
That snapped something within Cloud. "No, I – I wanted to know," he said quickly, raising his head. "I mean, I would have found out eventually." Probably. "It's… It's just..." He shook his head, unsure what to say next. It would be so easy to slide into the growing panic, so effortless to just let go of what little self control he had, but…
… But none of this seems real, Cloud suddenly knew. And the more he thought about it, the less real it all seemed. Experimented on, Zack dragging his useless ass around, all over the course if five years? He had no memory of it. It was as if it had happened to someone else, someone completely different, and it was suddenly very easy to completely separate himself from Zack's story. To pretend that it hadn't him. That it had all happened to a nameless, faceless stranger.
And he was okay with that.
Deeply inhaling, Cloud finally turned back to Zack and managed a thin smile. His heart was still beating fast and hard in his chest – five years – and anxiety still squirmed and twisted deep within him – five years gone – but he chose to ignore it. And though he couldn't really ignore it, not entirely, he tried anyway. Tried to bury the mounting panic so deep in his mind that it would never see the light of day, and he finally said, "Zack, I'm okay." He was proud that his voice didn't even sound strained, not even a little. "Really. I promise."
"Are you sure?" Zack was looking him over with a concerned gaze, searching for any hint of alarm or upset. "I… Was it too much? I didn't mean to overwhelm you, I just –"
"Zack." Zack blinked at Cloud's tone, which was admittedly louder than normal. "I'm fine. Really. Was just… surprised for a second, but I'm okay."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
"You positive? I mean, you're… taking this remarkably well, Spikey. Give or take a little." Concern pitched Zack's tone. "Are you sure that I didn't overwhelm you, or anything? It wasn't too much?"
Cloud bit his lip. "No, I'm fine." Or at least, he was pretty sure that he was fine. He felt a little dirty, maybe. A little oily, and he had the sudden urge to scrub his hands, but, overall, he wasn't feeling too bad. "Maybe it just hasn't sunk in yet, or something."
"Maybe." Zack's lips pinched together. "Well… if it starts to sink in, or if you remember anything, let me know. Okay?"
"I will," Cloud promised. "But…" His gaze drifted back down to his hands. Guilt twisted in his gut. "Um, I have a story to tell you, too."
Zack arched an eyebrow. "A story?"
Cloud bit his lip and nodded. "Yeah. I, um… did something last night. Before you found me." At Zack's silence, he hesitantly continued, "I – I might have helped blow up a mako reactor."
He tensed, waiting for Zack's reaction.
But the reaction he had been expecting never came.
"Oh, that." Zack leaned back in the chair, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, I already knew about that."
What? Cloud jerked his head up, wide-eyed. He did? And he didn't sound… upset?
"You're not… mad?" Cloud ventured, his tone almost timid.
"Oh, I might have been a tiny bit mad about it yesterday," Zack assured, which had Cloud immediately deflating. "I mean, I found you last night delirious, hurt, holding a sword of all things, and with guns pointed at you. So I wasn't exactly happy about it. But..." He suddenly reached forward and ruffled Cloud's hair. "I appreciate that you told me just now."
Cloud's shoulder's slumped. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize, Spikey. Honestly," he added with a sudden chuckle, which had Cloud jerking his head up, "I almost wish that I had been there to help. I mean yeah, you're right, it was stupid. Crazy stupid. But damn, would it have felt good to just blow a piece of Shinra up sky-high." He grinned almost wistfully at the image before his expression sobered. "That said, you're gonna have to lay low from now on, okay? Shinra has cameras inside their reactors, and they may be looking for you, right now. And I can't – I won't – see you going back to that lab. I won't."
"All right," Cloud quickly agreed. That was a fair price to pay, which led him to his next question: "Do we... need to leave Midgar?"
"Well…" Zack grimaced, dragging Cloud out of his thoughts. "That would be the smart move, but..."
Sudden laughter echoed outside the window. Zack eyes were pulled in that direction, almost as if he were connected by a string, and there was no mistaking how his expression softened. How his shoulders relaxed, if only slightly.
"Who's that?" Cloud finally asked, breaking the quiet.
"Oh, that's Aerith," he said quickly, as if suddenly recalling Cloud was there. He tone was casual, but the way he spoke her name… it was as if he was saying a prayer. "She's the reason we traveled all the way out to Midgar in the first place. You two actually met yesterday," he added, his smile soft. "She's the one who found you before I did."
"Oh." Cloud, unsurprisingly, did not remember that. "So… we're staying, then?" He could stop his tone from lifting, growing a little more hopeful.
"We… gods, we have so many reasons to leave." Zack ran an impatient hand through his hair. "We should. But… I don't know, I don't know. First thing first though, we need to get you back up running."
"I can run," Cloud protested.
Zack only laughed. "Not exactly what I meant, buddy," he said, and Cloud flushed in response. "I meant that you should be back to a hundred percent before we make any drastic decisions."
"I'm fine."
"Please. I saw how your legs were shaking when you stood up a second ago." Zack grabbed the potion off of the nightstand before handing it to him, grinning all the while. "You finish the rest of this – we can get you something downstairs to help with the taste – and then we'll figure out the rest, okay?"
The rest? But… "Zack," he murmured, taking the potion, "I need to..."
"Need to see Tifa, I know," Zack finished for him. He didn't sound very happy about it either, which had Cloud looking up at him in confusion… but then Zack smiled, and all traces of his tension were immediately smoothed away. "Food first, and your girl second."
"Wha -" Cloud flushed. "Zack! It's not… It's not like that," he insisted, even as his flush deepened. His girl? Please. "It's not."
Zack actually laughed at him. "Yeah okay, Spikey. I'll just pretend to forget all of the years you spent gushing about her."
Cloud's expression shifted into horror. "I did not."
Zack only laughed harder.
"I did not! You gushed about Aerith all the time, though," Cloud protested, recalling his days in the infantry. "All the time!"
"Whatever you say," Zack laughed, which had Cloud scowling all over again. He didn't gush, damnit. "Anyway, this fun conversation aside, wanna head downstairs? And then I can show you around – Aerith's house is crazy."
The waterfall outside flashed to the forefront of his mind, and he found himself nodding. "Okay," he said as he pushed himself upright, and was pleased when his legs felt far more solid beneath him. They took his weight, and he tried to ignore Zack hovering nearby, as if he was ready to jump forward and grab Cloud in case he fell.
Unable to stand his worried stare any longer, Cloud frowned at him. "I'm fine, Zack."
"Uh – yeah, I know. Sorry," Zack said, huffing a brief laugh "It's just, it's been a long time since you've walked around. Kinda makes me nervous."
Nervous? "Why?"
"Because… well, never mind," Zack said, which had Cloud scowling all over again. "Let's just head downstairs, okay?"
"Fine."
Outside of the small bedroom, a narrow hallway led down to a spiraling stairwell, one that had been lined with paintings and pictures of landscapes and smiling people. Cloud's eyes drifted across the portraits as he slowly made his way down the steps, the wood cool against his bare feet. Everyone was smiling in the photographs; everyone looked happy, and for some strange reason, it twisted something inside of him and he had to tear his gaze away.
The stairs eventually landed in a living room. Conversation, the voices coming from the kitchen, fluttered through it. Cloud heard the dull thuds of a knife hitting a cutting board. The sound of something being peeled, the loud bubbling of water being boiled, and there was a spice in the air. He didn't recognize it, but his mouth immediately watered at the exotic scent.
The oatmeal had been good, but now he wanted whatever that was.
"Zack!" A woman suddenly stepped out of the kitchen, her expression bright as she wiped her hands down on her dress. At the way Zack's face lit up, Cloud immediately guessed that she was Aerith. "How is he – Oh!" Cloud flushed as her green eyes landed on him, and he quickly slipped the potion into the sweatpants pocket. "Cloud! You're awake! How are you feeling?"
"Um." It was unnerving, the familiar way she talked to him. Like she already knew him, even though he didn't recognize her at all. "Better, thanks."
"You gave us quite a scare last night," came a second voice, and another woman stepped out of the kitchen - Elmyra, Cloud guessed. She was wiping down a knife with a dishcloth, and the flat of the blade glinted against the morning sun as she continued, "Do the potion help?"
The potion's glass vial was cold in his hand as he replied, "It did, thank you."
Elmyra nodded, as if this was expected. "Good," she said, and suddenly stepped towards him, that sharpened knife still in her hand. Cloud had the sudden, wild urge to duck behind Zack, and he nearly jolted when she suddenly extended a hand out to him. "My name is Elmyra – I'm Aerith's mother." She flashed him a faint smile. "Don't worry; no one is going to hurt you here."
Do I really look that jumpy? Cloud, unhappy with the thought, schooled his expression into cool indifference as he took her hand. It was warm and rough; worker's hands, the same as his mother, and his unease immediately softened. "I'm Cloud."
"Cloud." Elmyra hummed as she took a step back. "That's a cute name."
Zack laughed at that, which only caused Cloud to flush. "'S not cute," he muttered.
"No, I didn't mean to offend you," Elmyra quickly said, and when Cloud looked up again, her expression had warmed somewhat. "I'm glad that you're awake, Cloud."
"Me, too," he said honestly. "And… I'm sorry if I… caused trouble last night."
But Elmyra quickly waved off his concern. "No trouble," she said as she walked back to the kitchen. "Mako poisoning is very serious, and you're lucky that my daughter and her… friend… found you last night."
Aerith loudly huffed. "Mom," she said as she followed Elmyra into the kitchen, "I told you yesterday, his name is Zack."
Elmyra only hummed in response, and the loud staccato of the knife hitting the cutting board resumed.
"Yeah..." Zack's voice was low, far too low for anyone without enhanced hearing to hear. "In case you didn't notice, Elmyra doesn't like me very much."
Cloud shot Zack a surprised look. "Why?"
"Doesn't like SOLDIERs," was his simple reply, and then he was looking up again, smiling as Aerith stepped out of the kitchen.
"Lunch will be ready soon," she declared, pulling off a brown apron. She threw it over a chair as she continued, "Which means we have some free time. Cloud, have you seen the outside yet?"
He shook his head no. "Just from the window."
"Hmm." She glanced at him, her lips curved in a bright smile. "Want to see it up close?"
His expression must have said it all, because then she was laughing. "Then let's go! C'mon, Cloud; Zack." She grabbed a wicker basket, which had been stacked beside the door, before heading out.
"We don't have to help make lunch?" Cloud asked.
Aerith shook her head. "Nope! Mom offered to take care of it. Besides, I have to pick flowers pick some flowers for the orphanage. They wanted to decorate it a little bit - add some color, you know?""
"I can help," Zack offered, grinning. Cloud didn't miss the way he hovered around her, never more than a few feet away, even as he made sure to keep Cloud in his peripherals, too. "In case you didn't know, I'm an expert flower picker."
Aerith only laughed in response. "Really," she said, in a tone that made it seem like she didn't believe him at all.
"That's right," Zack said before turning to Cloud. "You tell her."
Cloud only blinked. "Uhh..."
"See!" Aerith pushed her long, brown braid over her shoulder. "Cloud agrees with me."
"He does not!"
They continued to bicker, but it was lighthearted, full of smiles and laughter, and Cloud found himself faintly smiling along even as his footsteps slowed. For some reason, watching them reminded him of Tifa. Which reminded him:
I need to go see her.
An arm was suddenly slung over his shoulders, and he nearly stumbled beneath the unexpected weight. "You doing good back here?" Zack asked.
Cloud didn't meet his gaze. "Um..." he began, and Zack immediately tensed. "Actually, I was wondering… When can we see Tifa?"
"Tifa?" Aerith was suddenly walking beside him, her green eyes bright beneath the midday sun. "Who's that? A girlfriend?"
Cloud's cheeks heated. "No! No, she's, um, a friend." And when Aerith kept looking at him like she didn't believe him - and Zack too, which had Cloud's blush deepening - he continued, "I never came back last night, so she's probably worried."
"Maybe we can head over later today," Zack offered, shooting Aerith an unreadable glance.
Aerith nodded at him before turning back to Cloud. "How about after lunch?" she offered. "My mom's making roasted pumpkin, plus some other stuff from the garden."
"More pumpkin?" Zack laughed. "How much pumpkin do you guys have?"
"We had a good harvest," Aerith told him, her tone stern, before she turned back to Cloud. "Anyway, what do you say? How about you stay for lunch, and then maybe we can pack something up for your friend?"
Cloud nodded, trying – and failing – to hide his creeping blush. "Okay.:
"Good." Aerith placed a hand on his arm, smiling warmly. "I think that would make my mom happy, too. She was really worried about you yesterday."
She was? "Why?"
"Oh, you know. Worrying is just what Mom's do," she said, shooting a warm gaze at Zack, before letting her hand drop. "Anyway, want to check out the waterfall first?"
"That sounds good," he said. Aerith hummed in response before continuing to lead them down the road, occasionally pointing out different flowers or plants that grew there, and Zack - as always - stayed near her side.
Cloud was content to trail behind, simply happy to be somewhere so green, before he tilted his head towards the sky. The plate had cracked here, giving him a good view of the lazy clouds swept across its expanse. The sunlight warmed his cheeks, and he closed his eyes against it.
Don't worry, Tifa, he quietly thought. I'll be on my way soon.
Long, emotional dialogue is my one true weakness, so I hope that it wasn't too boring for anyone? At least now Cloud is up to speed on everything (well, sort of... Zack left out a few things, didn't he?) and Tifa has a new mission to go on, right?
Also, I'm going to try something I've never tried before, but may be fun! If you have a preference at all for what dress you think Tifa should wear next chapter (and I know some of you do lol), then feel free to drop what dress you'd review in a review. The dress with the most comments will be the winner. ! THAT SAID ! - if you vote for a dress and you're a dick about it, then I'm throwing out your vote. So please be nice. Keep in mind that anon comments will not be counted in the original count (b/c I can't verify that the same account only voted once) and will only be used as a tie-breaker if it comes to it.
Good luck! :)
Next chapter will be published Friday, August 21st (follow Rand0mSmil3z on twitter if you'd like to see previews). Until then, stay well, stay safe, and I wish you all the best :)
If you like my writing and are enjoying the story so far, it would mean the world to me if you would check out my published books or my Ko-Fi account (links found in my profile). Of course, there is absolutely no pressure to do so - if you're happy with Halcyon Days, then I'm happy :)
