Happy Monday! I hope you all had a good weekend!
So it just occurred to be that this is Chapter 20? Which means that we're halfway done with Halcyon Days? Wtf? When did that happen?
But anyway, while I deal with my mind being blown, please enjoy the chapter! :) I'm not sure that I 100% like how this chapter turned out, but I hope that you all like it regardless :)
"Tifa!"
Tifa's apartment door slammed open as Cloud pushed his way through, and his mako-stained eyes jumped back and forth through the small room even before his shout faded into the walls. He did not hear Marlene's startled scream. Did not hear Jessie's loud curse, and only vaguely registered the sound of tiny bottles and containers raining onto the threadbare rug when Jessie dropped her bag. All he heard was a dull roaring in his ears. His muted breathing as his head whipped back and forth, looking for someone that was not here, that had already left. But it took him a few moments to realize it. To come to terms with the fact that Tifa was not here, and his breath whistled between his teeth even as Barret's voice echoed:
We have a sizable bounty on our heads.
This guy Corneo knows who placed the bounty...
And the pit of dread that had been pooling in his gut began to boil as he glanced over his shoulder to Aerith, who was still working her way up the steps. He was wide-eyed. His hands were clenched at his side. Anxiety was a song in his blood, a melody of jarring notes and clashing symbols; a steady crescendo clawing its way upwards, wailing and twisting and screeching all the while, a broken melody collapsing in on itself.
... and Tifa is going there to get more information.
"She's not here," Cloud began, his voice strained. "She's not -"
But then he was suddenly interrupted by a pair of arms wrapping around him.
"Cloud!" Jessie's voice echoed in his ear, snapping him out of his spiraling emotions as he was suddenly hugged from behind. "Oh my god, you're alive! I knew it!" She squeezed him tighter, her chest firmly pressed against his back. "I knew that you'd be okay!"
Cloud placed his hands on her arms, meaning to detangle her. "Um, Jessie..."
But Marlene's happy shout cut him off. "Cloud!" the small girl cried, and then threw herself at his leg. He had to grip the doorframe to keep his balance, and was thoroughly unsure of what to make out of this small child suddenly wrapped around his calf. He was mostly surprised that she knew his name, nevermind actually show him affection, but her smile was wide and bright as she looked up at him. "Daddy said that you went on a trip!"
Jessie, who had pulled away to make room for Marlene, winced. Cloud only stared in confusion.
"Uh..."
"Did you have fun?" Marlene relentlessly continued. "Did you bring any presents? Daddy said that his friend went on a trip too, but he never came back. Did you go see him? And Jessie said just now that you're alive." Her head cocked quizzically to the side. "Did you die?"
"Um..." Cloud slowly blinked. "Huh?"
"Yes, Cloud went on a trip," Aerith said behind him, saving him from replying. "I'm Aerith – his friend."
Marlene ducked behind Cloud's leg as if she was suddenly shy, which he didn't understand at all. It wasn't like she knew him any better.
"And," Aerith continued, kneeling down so that she was at Marlene's height, "Cloud did bring you a present." She softly smiled as she pulled the yellow flower out of her pocket. Marlene's eyes went big at the sight of it, and Aerith's smile brightened. "And I know it's a little crushed, but I hope that'll be okay?" She handed the flower to Marlene, who then held the flower delicately - far more delicately than Cloud had been expecting from a four year old. Far more delicately than he had, anyway.
"It's soft," Marlene said as she ran a timid finger along its petal. "Are all flowers soft?"
"Not all of them," Aerith replied as she stood back upright. "But some of them are."
Jessie clasped her hands behind her back. "And what do you say, Marlene?"
Marlene lifted her head, beaming. "Thank you, Aerith! And thank you, Cloud!"
And Cloud didn't fully understand why, but something inside of him softened slightly. Unwound a bit, and he murmured, "You're welcome."
Marlene's smile widened, and he offered his own timid, smaller smile before the reality of the situation came roaring back, and his smile slipped as he turned back to Jessie. Just like that, the anxiety that had been pooling deep within him was back; a writhing, bubbling thing that made him feel like curling up into a ball and running for miles, all at once. "Have you seen Tifa?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even. "We heard what happened back at the bar, and, um..."
"And we're looking for her," Aerith finished for him. Her tone had changed; while she had been speaking to Marlene, she had been only warmth and sunshine. Now there was a little frost to her tone, a slight chill that had not been there before, and it took all of Cloud's self control not to glance at her from over his shoulder. "Do you know where she went?"
Jessie shifted her weight to her other foot and wrung her hands behind her back, looking distinctly uncomfortable - and in an instant, Cloud knew: She knows something. Judging by her posture it wasn't anything good, and his anxiety shifted into something else. Something a little darker, a little colder, and the mako within his gaze flared as he continued, "Well? Where is she?"
Jessie thickly swallowed; her gaze darted to Marlene. "Well..." She worried her lip and shifted her weight, again. "Um, how do I put this..."
Marlene suddenly tugged at Cloud's leg, drawing in his attention. "Tifa went to the princess ball!" she stated matter-of-factly. Cloud's brow furrowed in confusion, but his confusion only multiplied as the girl continued, "She wore a pretty dress and rode away in a pretty carriage!"
What? "Tifa did?" That didn't sound right, and he turned to Jessie for confirmation. "Really?"
"I'm not lying!" Marlene protested. "Jessie, tell him! Tell him that Tifa went to the princess ball!"
Jessie shifted her weight to her other foot. Again. "Y – Yeah," she said after a lengthy pause. "That's right, Marlene. Tifa went to the princess ball."
Cloud's eyes narrowed. Bullshit.
"You said that she left by carriage, Marlene?" Aerith asked from the doorway. Unlike Cloud, she didn't sound surprised – or even vaguely puzzled – by Marlene's declaration. In fact, she sounded as if this had been exactly what she had been expecting, and her serious tone only emphasized that. "It wouldn't have been led by chocobo, would it?" she continued. "With red and gold paint, and thick curtains covering all the windows?"
"Yeah, like that!" Marlene eagerly replied. "A princess carriage!"
Cloud frowned at Aerith, who had pressed a thoughtful finger against her cheek. "What does that mean?"
Aerith's expression was unreadable. "It means..." she began, but her voice trailed off when she noticed Marlene's excited expression and then Jessie behind her, looking far less excited. "It means," Aerith continued after a lengthy pause, "that Tifa going to the princess ball in a princess carriage."
His shoulders slumped in defeat. You're kidding me.
"See?" Marlene looked up to Cloud, grinning. "I told you so! Tifa is going to the princess ball! For diplosee!"
Cloud turned his frown to her. "Diplo...see?" The hell is a diplosee?
Jessie came to his rescue. "Diplomacy," she corrected before added, "Tifa is going to the princess ball for diplomacy."
Cloud only stared at her. Was he having some sort of fever dream? Another hallucination? Had the other half of Elmyra's potion already worn off, and now he couldn't understand basic language or something?
"What does that mean?" he finally asked, unable to help himself any longer. "What are you even saying?"
"It means," Aerith told him, "that we're going to the princess ball, too."
Cloud shot her a look. We're gonna what?
"But Cloud isn't a princess," Marlene helpfully pointed out. "He can't go to the princess ball... but," she added, her face lighting up, "he can go as a prince!"
"I... what?"
But Aerith only grinned at him. "I don't know, Marlene. I think Cloud would make a good princess, don't you?"
Cloud's cheeks heated, and he clenched his jaw against it. "I would not."
"With that figure?" Jessie added, who now also grinning. "Definitely."
Cloud crossed his arms over his chest and looked away, scowling all the while. "I would not," he repeated. Aerith giggled behind him, and he - his face burning - turned to Jessie and quickly changed the subject. "When did Tifa leave, anyway?"
"A couple of minutes ago," came Jessie's reply. She shifted her weight to her other foot. "You literally just missed her."
"And where," he enunciated, "was she going? And don't say a princess ball."
Jessie's eyes darted to Marlene, but was saved from responding by Aerith. "Don't worry, Cloud," Aerith said. "I know the way. Princess balls are very common in some parts of the slums."
The way she said princess ball was the same way one said garbage dump or maybe trash pile, and Cloud grimaced. Whatever they were talking about, it definitely wasn't a princess ball, or... whatever. "Let's go, then," he said, and made a move towards the door.
"No!" Marlene suddenly latched back onto his leg, stopping him; one hand wrapped tightly around the fabric of his jeans, while the other still gently held the yellow flower. "Stay!"
"Uhh..." Cloud glanced at Aerith for help, but she only grinned and shrugged. Frowning at her, he turned back to Marlene and, crouching so that they were the same height, gently pried Marlene's fingers off of his leg. "Sorry," he murmured at her following pout. "But we need to find Tifa."
"How come?" Marlene demanded.
"Because she, um..." He fumbled for words. "She may... not want to be at the, uh, princess ball."
Marlene's brow furrowed. "Not want to be at a princess ball? That's silly."
His lips tugged into a small smile as he detangled the last of Marlene's fingers from his pant leg. "I think," he quietly replied, "that she would rather be here with us."
Jessie's expression softened at that, so he had a feeling that that had been the right thing to say. Or at least, he hoped so. He really didn't know either way.
"Really?" Marlene asked.
"Yeah." He lifted his head a bit, just to meet her eyes. "I think she likes us more."
Marlene's expression lit up a bit. "Really?" she repeated. "Really really?"
"Really really," he affirmed, still faintly smiling, before standing fully upright. Marlene darted to Jessie's side, happy and content. "And, um, Jessie..."
Jessie, who had been watching the scene play out with a gentle expression, suddenly blinked. "Um, yeah?"
"Would you mind passing along a message for me?"
"Ooh, good call, Cloud!" Aerith suddenly said. Her smile was soft as she placed a hand on his shoulder, as if reassuring him that he had handled Marlene well, before she turned back to Jessie and continued, "His name is Zack. And he's tall – like, really tall – and he has black hair that's sort of swept back. And he has eyes that look just like Cloud's."
"Oh!" Jessie's eyes lit in realization as she turned back to Cloud. "So he's a SOLDIER just like you, huh?"
Cloud tried not to flinch at her question. Tried to ignore Aerith's questioning gaze burning into his back, because she knew as well as he now did that he had never been in SOLDIER. That it had all been a story he had made up. A fabrication of his mind, stitched together with flimsy circumstantial evidence and a childhood dream.
"Something like that," he finally, doggedly, replied. "But, anyway, could you just tell him the same thing that you told us? About Tifa?"
Jessie squared her shoulders, determination flaring in her eyes. "You got it. If I see him, I'll pass that along." She thumped a fist to her chest, grinning. "You can count on me."
"Thanks, Jessie," Cloud said honestly, and then turned to follow Aerith down the steps. Their metal rattled beneath his boots as he hurried down them two at a time.
Jessie leaned over the second story railing. "Good luck!" she called.
"Bye, Cloud!" Marlene waved at her side. She wasn't tall enough to look over the railing so she stared between the rungs instead, her smile pressed against their weathered iron. "Bye, Cloud's friend!"
Aerith waved back to Marlene and Cloud imitated her, offering Marlene a small smile and a wave, before jogging to catch up. "So," he began, his voice low. The dirt clouded his boots as he pulled his hood back over his head. "Where are we going, really?"
For a moment, Aerith didn't answer him. The only noise between them were their footsteps, softened by dust and earth, and the muted conversations of others on the road as she effortlessly weaved through the crowd. Then: "We're going to Wall Market," she said. A cat hissed at them from the alley. A rat scurried beneath a tin house. "It's in Sector Six, so right next door."
"So not a princess ball, then?"
His comment managed to tug a small smile out of her. It was a worried smile, a thin smile, but a smile all the same. "Not quite."
"So what is Wall Market?" he continued.
"It's a…" Aerith suddenly sighed. "How do I even describe it?" They broke through the crowd and continued down the road leading out of Sector Seven. It was busier now than it had been in the morning. Some people pushed overfilled carts to see in the busier districts, others made their way to other, nicer train stations, while others held up cardboard signs asking for money, food, or work.
"It's… busy," she eventually continued as she stepped over a particularly deep rut in the road. "You can find anything there, especially if it's illegal or not allowed on the upper plate."
A stale breeze pushed through the road, sending empty candy wrappers and chip bags tumbling down the parched, cracked earth. "So who's Corneo?" Cloud asked. He stuck closely to Aerith as she cut off the main road that connected Sector Six to Seven, and they headed down a quieter, less busy path. He thought he could see a small park in the distance, though its colors had faded with age and its plastic cracked with use. "Barret said Tifa was going there to meet him," he added. "Is he dangerous?"
Aerith pursed her lips. "He is," she admitted. "But not in the way you're thinking."
Cloud glanced at her, his mako-burnt eyes shadowed by the lip of his hood. "What?"
"Corneo himself isn't dangerous. Like sure, he's slimy. Gross," she emphasized. "But he can't fight, can't wield a weapon, and he's not in the best of shape." Cloud nearly scoffed and said that he was worried for nothing then – Tifa could handle him and worse – but then Aerith turned to look at him. She pinned him beneath her emerald stare and continued, "But he has money. He can't fight, so he pays people to fight for him. He can't use a weapon, but he'll buy the best there is. And sure, he may be out of shape, but he's... cunning. It doesn't matter how strong or smart you think you are," she added, her tone serious. "He'll find a way to turn everything you have against you."
"Tifa's smarter though," Cloud protested. "And she's a great fighter."
Aerith only shook her head. "Cloud… you're not getting it."
"What aren't I getting?"
"That Tifa was told to wear a fancy dress, and then was picked up in a fancy carriage." She turned and began to walk down the road again, and her shoes crunched against a dry, dead shrub. "The only girls who do that are the ones Don Corneo are going to pick for a wife. A wife, Cloud. And the ones that he chooses," she added, her tone darkening, "aren't ever heard from again."
For a moment, Cloud only stared uncomprehendingly. Stared and blinked, until realization sunk into him like a stone and he was left choking.
"Tifa… she… what?" His cheeks flushed a furious color. "She's going to… She's gonna… a wife?"
"Yes, his wife. If she's chosen," Aerith emphasized. She didn't break stride as she hurried past the empty playground and down another dirt road. "If she's not chosen, then she'll be handed off to Corneo's henchmen. And I... I don't think I need to tell you why."
Cloud's stomach twisted nauseatingly. No, she didn't need to tell him why, and he felt like the road was rolling beneath his boots. Like he was back on the train; the ground rumbling beneath him, the world swaying around him, his body struggling to regain its bearings but there was nothing to hold on to, nothing to grab for balance, and he was falling within it all.
"A wife?" he finally croaked. "Tifa?"
Gods, he didn't know what was worse; her being chosen and going to Corneo, or her not being chosen and her being used by Corneo's men.
He thickly swallowed, trying and failing to eject the thought from his mind. "Why… Why would she…" he began, but then his eyes widened as he answered his own question. There's a bounty on my and Barret's head, he recalled. Corneo knows about it, and Tifa went to get information.
The world suddenly went very, very still and very, very quiet as he realized:
She was doing this for them.
Damn it. His hands clenched at his sides, and his fingernails dug crescent moons into his palms. There was some pain. But it focused him, grounded him, and the world shifted as the mako within him burned. Burned with a white, jealous heat that rolled in rhythm with his boiling adrenaline.
"No," he finally, resolutely declared. "She can't." His voice carried a storm, the same storm that had thundered when Sephiroth had burned down his home, murdered his mother, and then cut down both Zack and Tifa and left them to die. "That won't be happening." But the storm had no where to go but rage inside of him, a wild tempest that soaked into his skin, a thunder that pounded in his ears, a lightning that turned his veins into branches of burning, white light; and he finished, "We're going to save her."
"Yes we are," Aerith firmly agreed.
And the world shifted into striking shades of green.
Eventually, the uneven dirt road gave way to metal slabs, slabs that had been layered over one another and hammered into the hard earth. Rocky ledges lined the well-used road, and Cloud was eventually able to make out the elegant rooftops and peaked red spires of the infamous Wall Market. Paper lanterns, currently unlit, lined the road in an uneven pattern. Signs with painted red arrows pointed the way, and Shinra propaganda became more common the closer they got to Wall Market's main road.
Right outside of Wall Market proper was a small chocobo stable. The stable was a quaint thing, and looked as if it belonged to the rugged, rolling countryside instead of a massive city made of metal and mako. Its exterior was glossy with fresh red paint, and strung lights formed a canopy over the actual stable itself while dreamcatchers dangled from the roof-gutters, their colorful beads glinting against the artificial's sun pale light. A single chocobo slept curled up in the corner of the stable, a pile of fresh hay lying beside it. Its vibrant yellow feathers ruffled in rhythm with its deep, even breathing.
"Excuse me," Aerith called as she hurried to one of the stablehands, who was busy pouring fresh water into the trough. "One of your men gave a ride to a girl earlier. Do you have any idea who it was?"
The stablehand's frown was nearly swallowed by his thick, black beard. "Who and what now?"
"One of your men gave a girl a ride," Cloud cut in, rapidly growing impatient. The stablehand paled when his gaze slid to him; maybe it was the unnatural green glow to Cloud's gaze, or maybe it was his dark, stormy expression and how his body strung so taunt that it looked intent to snap. Either way, Cloud had the stablehands rapt attention as he continued, "We need to know who. Now."
But the stablehand, to Cloud's unending frustration, recovered from his initial shock and only shrugged, as if bored. "Uh, sorry, but we didn't have any rides scheduled this morning." He sharply turned away to continue pouring fresh water into the trough, and it splashed over the sides and onto his leather boots. "We have some in the afternoon, though."
"No, she was seen in one of those those this morning." Cloud roughly gestured to one of the gaudy carts, which were parked against the stable house. "If you didn't have any rides scheduled, then how come she was seen in one?"
The stablehand's expression twisted. "Well, we did rent out one of the carriages earlier today..."
"Why didn't you say so in the first place?" Cloud snapped, but Aerith's hand pressing against his back cut him off.
"To who?" Aerith asked, shooting him a warning glance. Cloud turned away, scowling. It wasn't his fault the stablehand was being purposefully difficult.
"One of Corneo's men," the stablehand replied, seemingly relieved to not have to deal with Cloud anymore. "I don't remember his name."
"You need to remember," Cloud shot back.
The stablehand shrank beneath his glare. "I'm telling you -"
"It's important," Cloud interrupted, and ignored Aerith's hand pressing against him as he continued, "We need to know, and if you can't help us, I'll-"
"What's all the ruckus out here?"
The door to the stable cabin was suddenly thrown open, and the sounds of heavy boots echoed down the wooden steps. Cloud scowled at the newcomer; at the man's fancy bucket hat, his fancy full beard, his fancy white shirt, his fancy vest that mirrored the stableman's chocobo design. Even his boots were fancy; leather cowboy boots, their seams embroidered with red and sides decorated with golden wheat.
Cloud instantly didn't like him.
"Sam!" the stablehand suddenly exclaimed. "You don't have to intervene."
But the man, Sam, only hummed and paid the stablehand no mind. "I don't know you," Sam decided, his dark gaze pinned on Cloud. He didn't seem bothered by Cloud's eyes' mako glow in the slightest. "What's your story?"
Aerith stepped in front of Cloud, as if to shield him. Or maybe it was just to keep him from arguing further as she explained, "We're looking for a girl who took one of your carriages. Maybe one of the ones you rented out this morning. Can you help us find her?"
"Hmm… Depends," Sam finally said, which had Cloud's blood boiling. "What d'you want with this girl of yours?"
"Why do you care?" Cloud snapped, only for Aerith's hand to press harder against his back.
"Sorry!" Aerith said quickly, shooting Cloud another warning look before turning back to Sam. He glowered at his boots. "He's just really upset! See, it was his girlfriend who was in that carriage that you had rented out, and we want to save her!"
A knowing smile curved Sam's weathered lips, and he turned back to Cloud. "So that's how it is, huh?"
Cloud said nothing in response, only narrowed his eyes and thought angry thoughts.
"Well..." Sam turned his attention back to Aerith. "I gotta lot of customers. Hard to keep track of 'em all. This girl…" His dark gaze jumped to Cloud. "What does she look like?"
Cloud's gaze grew distant. "She..."
She has small dimples in the corners of her lips that you can only see when she smiles; and then when she does smile, all you can think of is how you can get her to smile again.
She has eyes the color of red wine, and you feel drunk every time you see them.
She has a laugh that sounds exactly like home.
Her hands are soft, even with all of the callouses on her palms and scars on her knuckles.
She's stronger than anyone you know, more beautiful than anyone you've ever seen, and her legs -
Cloud blinked.
Her legs...
"Well?" Sam said, interrupting his thoughts.
Cloud sharply turned away to hide his growing flush. "She's... in great shape," he said lamely.
Aerith shot him a long, dry look. "Is that really important right now?"
"Wait." By some miracle Sam seemed to understand, and he pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezing shut. "You talkin' about Tifa?"
Cloud's head jumped up. "Yeah." His sharply inhaled; the storm within him went still. "Yeah, that's her. Have you seen her?"
"Oho," Sam teased, "looks like someone has a bit of a crush." The look Cloud gave him could have dried paint, and Sam's smile slipped. "Well, hate to break your heart, kid," he continued, "but it's going to be a long while before she sees the light of day again."
Cloud blinked.
It was suddenly hard to breathe.
To think.
Aerith had said the same thing, and the veins beneath his skin were burning again, filled with a fire that he couldn't douse.
"What do you mean?" he asked. Demanded, and Sam suddenly had a sad look in his eyes.
"Well… she's a really pretty girl," he began. Regret flickered across his expression. "Corneo's hosting another audition -"
Another audition, Cloud thought sickly, for a wife? How many…
"- and Tifa was chosen as a candidate," Sam continued with a hopeless shrug. "Got wind of it this morning, that one of Corneo's… assistants by the name of Kotch requested her personally, and rented one of the carriages while he was at it. Must have been some girl," he added, his fingers rubbing his full beard, "to be specifically chosen for the title of Mrs. Don Corneo."
Mrs. Don… Cloud thought he was going to puke. "Hell no," he bit out. "That's not happening."
"Sorry kid, but it's out of your hands," Corneo replied, which had Cloud bristling. "Unfortunately, Tifa is what the Don likes, all rolled into one sweet package… and with that in mind," he finished, "she won't be walkin' out of that mansion anytime soon. If at all."
Cloud bit his inner cheek so hard that he tasted iron. "So where can we find this Don Corneo?" he said, as calmly as he could manage. If what Sam was saying was right…
Gods. He needed to find her.
Right.
Now.
"At his mansion in town - everyone knows where it is. Why?" Sam suddenly asked. "What're you askin' for?" His tone became guarded, his gaze watchful. "Thinking of raising holy hell or something?"
And Cloud lifted his head, and the mako within his eyes flared bright and hot. "I might be," he coolly replied. He was surprised by just how even his tone was, how cold and detached and hard, and his fingers itched to hold a weapon. Sword, rifle, wooden club, his own fists… it didn't matter anymore. He stopped caring a while back.
"Hmph." Sam watched him for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Well, do what you gotta," he said after a lengthy pause, "but leave me out of it. I told you what you want to know." With that he turned back to the stable cabin, and splayed his hand against the door's red paint. "Now take a walk."
Without another word he pushed open the door and stepped inside, letting it swing shut behind him. The stablehand followed quickly afterwards, and Cloud released the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.
"Shit," he hissed.
Aerith loudly sighed beside him, as if in agreement. "Well, there goes our best lead yet," she murmured before turning to him, her expression somber. "Maybe we'll have better luck in town."
Cloud met her gaze, his mako-burnt eyes burning. "Maybe," he said simply, and he turned on his heel and began heading into Wall Market, Aerith close behind. He had no idea how he was going to find Kotch, but suddenly, that didn't matter. Just minor, unimportant details, because he'd find him. He knew that he'd find him, and when he did…
His hands tightened into fists.
… Well, maybe it was a good thing that Zack was still cleaning his gunblade after all.
"Let's go straight to Corneo's mansion," he said to Aerith, who had fallen in step beside him. "Someone has to know something there."
"Sounds good to me," Aerith agreed, and Cloud tersely nodded.
It was time to raise some holy hell.
It wasn't even midday yet, and Tseng already wanted to day to be over.
His glossy dress shoes kicked up dust as he strode down the familiar Sector Five path, his stride effortless and his posture perfect. At first glance, no one would be able to tell the irritation flashing beneath his dark eyes. Wouldn't be able to see the frustration that had left him irritable and annoyed all morning, and yet it was there, simmering just beneath his skin, waiting for the opportunity to snap.
And it perplexed him. Left him wondering why he felt so... so unbalanced, so volatile, even as he kept his emotions on a tight leash as he continued down the road. His emotional state of being simply did not make any sense. Nothing drastic had happened recently, nothing emotionally upsetting, nothing even vaguely confrontational.
Well, except that Strife had helped blow up a mako reactor with Avalanche, a known terrorist group, Tseng dimly, darkly recalled. And the security footage has already been circulated amongst Shinra's upper management, Hojo successfully identified him, and now there is a three hundred thousand bounty on his head. Now they were living in the middle of the worst-case scenario. All of Shinra's bounty hunters were scurrying on both the upper and lower plates, and Tseng knew that it was only a matter of time before Strife would be found.
After that, it would also only a matter of time before Hojo linked Strife's survival to Fair's survival, which would be... catastrophic, to put it simply. Only Fair could pull off the mission Tseng required him for; that is, assassinating the President and allowing Rufus to ascend onto the Shinra throne. If there was a silver lining to this entire situation, it was that Strife had successfully captured the entirety of Shinra's attention. Heidegger needed both Strife and the man with the prosthetic gun to further secure his position as the head of the Public Safety division, Hojo wanted Strife for his twisted experimentation, and the rest of the Shinra brass were too busy trying to identify the other man than think further ahead than that.
Now all that Tseng required was Fair... except Fair was missing. Gone, and a familiar flare of irritation flickered through him at the thought.
He couldn't recall another time he had felt so... so frustrated, if he were to put a name to the stinging emotion. During the Turk all-team meeting earlier in the day, he had wanted to snap at Reno for showing up late even though Reno had been late to meetings a hundred times before. Had wanted to remind Elena of her Turk training and to keep her emotions under a tight lock and key, even though he himself was struggling at doing the same. He had also wanted to more severely warn Cissnei of the dangers of going against the Turks and, by extension, Shinra, even though he himself was plotting to assassinate the President on the orders of Rufus Shinra. It had taken more self control than he would care to admit to calmly finish the meeting, and then excuse himself to continue his search for Zack Fair.
Tseng slowly exhaled. He had almost wanted to request Reno and Rude's assistance during the search, but their focus was currently the Avalanche mission; their removal, no matter how temporary, would undoubtedly be noted by Heidegger. One of the bounty hunters had gone missing sometime in the early morning, and Heidegger was convinced that either Strife or the gun-armed man was the blame. No; better to leave Reno and Rude be, and continue the search on his own. Things would be easier that way. His only hope was that he found Fair quickly, because once Strife was captured... well, Strife would be handed to Hojo, would undoubtedly break soon afterwards, and then there would no longer be any point to keep Fair hidden after that.
But at least he will not remember his stay with the Turks, Tseng thought. Strife had been too dazed with mako poisoning to understand that he was in a hospital, nevermind a Turk-owned one, which was one bright spot in a series of dark events. Therefore, even if Strife was recaptaured by Hojo, and Hojo did make Strife tell the scientist everything he had done since his escape from Nibelheim, the Turks' relationship to his survival would remain a secret.
A small blessing, Tseng thought dryly, and he couldn't help but wonder:
At what point had everything gone so wrong?
He didn't follow that train of thought any further, and he eventually came across the building he had been looking for: An abandoned church, somehow still standing despite the rubble and carnage strewn around it. It had once been a masterpiece, with proud stone walls of stained glass and spires that cut higher than anything around it. But now some of its walls had crumbled. Its stained glass windows, each unique and depicting a scene of creation, had been shattered and now colorful fragments spilled down its marble steps and onto the dirt road. Even its spires had collapsed, their towers caving in. Light shown down from holes in the ceiling, and one lit Tseng's figure as he carefully stepped into the church.
The church's interior had not fared much better. The pews were lopsided and in disarray, and the stone columns that had provided support for the arched ceiling had long cracks running up and down their length. Secretly, Tseng disliked this place. It had a haunting atmosphere, a hollowness that made his shoes ring far too loudly throughout the room, and was dark even despite the sunlight – true, honest sunlight – pouring in from the mangled roof. In fact, the only spot of warmth belonged to the yellow flowers that bloomed through the broken floorboards.
But Tseng didn't even spare them a glance as his dark gaze flicked from column to column, from broken pew to broken pew, before he sharply pivoted on his heel and went back the way he came. Clearly, Aerith was not here.
And if Aerith wasn't here, then Fair was not here as well.
But not all is lost, he reminded himself as he made his way out of the abandoned church and back onto the dusty road. There was still one place he had not looked, after all. The one place that he tried to keep is distance from, even after all of these years – the Gainsborough residence.
Or, in other words… Aerith's house.
Tseng tried not to go there. Tried to respect her wish for privacy, one that she had firmly, and loudly, voiced many times before. But unfortunately, his duties as a Turk went far deeper than his… personal obligations. This was simply business. Nothing more, and nothing less.
But there was no denying that small kernel of guilt that had flared deep within his chest. That strange tension that had been following him all morning, and he found his pace slowing as he walked up the flower-lined path. Found himself avoiding his reflection in the crystalline river as he stepped over the bridge and, eventually, stopped in front of the home's front door. He lifted his hand to knock…
… but suddenly the door was yanked open before his knuckles hit wood. It was yanked open with enough force that there was a slight gust of wind, and Tseng was left blinking into it.
"Tseng." Elmyra stared down at him, her thin-lipped expression severe, her gaze hard and unyielding. "I thought I told you to stay away from my daughter."
"Let me remind you that Aerith is not your daughter," Tseng seamlessly replied. His tone was matter-of-fact, emotionless, and left no room for argument. "Frequent checkups are also a part of our contract."
Elmyra's eyes flashed; the wood groaned beneath her fingers. "I made no such contract."
"But Aerith did."
But Tseng did not add that Aerith had only agreed to the contract if he, in return, delivered her letters to Fair.
Which he had done.
Eventually.
"Aerith was a child," Elmyra told him, her voice a low, rumbling storm. "She is still a child, and didn't know what it would cost her."
"And yet we still have a contract." Tseng's gaze slipped behind the woman, but the room was empty, and Aerith's shoes were missing from the front door. He nearly frowned at the sight, but his tone remained bland as he said, "Where is she?"
"Why should I know?" Elmyra crossed her arms against her chest, growing impatient. "My daughter is old enough to go where she pleases, regardless of whether she tells me beforehand or not."
Tseng lifted his dark gaze. "You and both know that's a lie." His tone had shifted; there was a darker undercurrent to it now, something that went beyond just being polite. "I have been on the Cetra project for years, Elmyra, and we both have gotten to know each other quite well." He paused for emphasis. "You know exactly where she is."
But Elmyra only met his gaze, seemingly unfazed, and it struck Tseng that she would have made a good Turk. In another timeline, perhaps.
"I do not," Elmyra slowly enunciated, "and the sooner you understand that, the happier we'll both be."
For a moment, they only stared at each other; Elmyra with muted anger etched onto her expression, while Tseng remained cool, unmovable, impassive.
But he was the first to turn away. "All right," he said. Elmyra blinked in surprise. "I understand."
"You -"
"I understand that you will not tell me Aerith's location," he continued, cutting her off, "but maybe you can answer my other question."
Elmyra leaned against the doorframe. "No promises."
Tseng almost – almost – chuckled at her dry remark, but his tone betrayed nothing as he said, "Fair enough." The river babbled behind him. "My other question is: Where is Zackary Fair?"
Recognition flared in Elmyra's eyes.
It was only there for a moment, just long enough for Tseng to glimpse at the sudden familiarity, before it faded into Elmyra's hard expression and she was shifting her weight to other foot, looking extremely bored with their conversation.
"How should I know?" she said. "As far as I know, he disappeared out of my daughter's life close to five years ago. Why should I care where he went? Good riddance, if you ask me."
Lies, lies, lies.
Tseng stopped paying attention halfway through Elmyra's small rant. Unbeknownst to her, she had already given him his answer. Fair had been here, which confirmed his suspicions that he had met up with Aerith after all. And if he both he and Aerith were not here...
Then they are perhaps looking for Strife, he surmised, unless they have already reunited. In which case…
His lips curved into a slow smile.
"Thank you for your time," Tseng said simply, and then he turned on his heel and left, leaving Elmyra to gape unabashedly at his departing back.
Zack leaned against the train window, and his mako-stained gaze idly watched the world pass by in a blur of gray and brown. His arms were crossed over his chest and the train rumbled beneath him, a faint stutter that crescendoed to a rough lurch as the train took a sudden, hard turn. Glares were passed around as people bumped into each other. Apologies were muttered. One middle-aged woman glanced up at him with a sorry on her lips, but then went mute when she noticed his luminous, mako-stained eyes. Her mouth worked, but nothing came out.
"Mako poisoning," he explained at her pallid expression. "Fell in a mako pod while working."
"Oh! S – Sorry." The woman flushed, clearly embarrassed, before she dropped her gaze and took a few purposeful steps away from him. Color continued to burn her cheeks as she stole glances at him, clearly wanting to say something more.
But Zack had already forgotten about her. He had other things to worry about… like getting into the Turk headquarters without drawing the Turks' attention. He scowled. It was most likely – no, definitely – impossible. These were the Turks, after all. They probably had his ID flagged or something, and already knew that he was on his way to the upper plate.
In fact, he thought, his fingers digging into his bicep, they're probably already waiting for me at the station.
He scowled out the window for a moment, debating the likelihood, before sighing and shaking his head, a smile straining his lips. When did I get so paranoid? The Turks have proven time and time again that they could be trustworthy. Cissnei had saved him and Cloud in the Midgar wastes, not to mention had turned a blind eye to him and Cloud escaping the lab. Tseng had delivered Aerith's letters to him. Both Reno and Rude had taken him to the Turk information outpost so he could find out where Cloud went, after Cloud had checked himself out of the hospital and went missing.
Yet Zack couldn't help but feel… uneasy. Something was telling him that this was wrong. That the Turks were being a little too nice, a little too eager to help him when he needed it, and the more he thought about it, the more certain he was. Maybe it was just paranoia. Maybe Sephiroth's betrayal, who he had considered a friend at one point, had damaged something deep within him. Or maybe everything that happened afterwards left scars so profound, so raw, so jagged, that general kindness was just… suspicious.
Or maybe I'm right, he thought to his reflection in the window, and something's wrong.
The thought trailed him out of the station when they train had finally rolled into the upper plate station. Followed him down the busy road as he strayed into the shadows, his eyes flicking from unfamiliar face to unfamiliar face, before he eventually came to the marble steps of Turk Headquarters.
For such a small building, it certainly commanded a presence. A few individuals strode up and down its steps, and after a pause, Zack trailed in after them, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He easily passed through the security gate – undoubtedly because of the Turk ID in his pocket, yet he still breathed a sigh of relief when the gate flashed green.
So far so good, he told himself. No Turks yet. Just… be cool.
Easier said than done. His shoes seemed to echo too loudly as he strode across the lobby and stepped into one of the elevators. He felt as if ants were crawling over his skin, their tiny legs whispering against his raw nerves, and he resisted the urge to scratch at his arms.
Relax, he ordered himself as the elevator door closed. Stay calm. I'm fine, everything as fine.
Besides, compared to all the shit that he's been through, this was easy. All he had to do was go to his old lodging room, grab Aerith's letters from the nightstand, go down to the armory for the Buster Sword, and then leave. He wouldn't have to deal with any labs. Wouldn't have to trek across a continent, fight Angeal or Genesis clones, or do anything like that. All he had to do was go up and down a few floors and pick up a few things along the way. That was easy. Easy. Nothing to stress out about.
And yet stress out he did. He chewed on his lip as the elevator slowly pitched upward, and thought, And if I bump into Reno or Rude, maybe I can ask them how the Avalanche mission is going? It wasn't the worst idea, and it would be an easy way to get more information on whether or not Shinra was searching for Cloud... But, Zack continued, frowning, they can't know that I've found him. He didn't know why the Turks were being so nice to him, but what he did know was that they were related to Shinra. And Shinra was, by far, the last thing Cloud needed right now. Shinra represented everything that Zack wanted to avoid, because what Cloud needed was... well, stability. A calm environment to recover in. The sort of environment that hadn't been possible during their past year on the run.
But Cloud has that now, Zack reminded himself. Now Cloud had both himself and Aerith to help him get through whatever was going on in his head, and Zack was positive that Elmyra would let Cloud live with her and Aerith until he got better. Hell, Cloud even had Tifa now, someone that he knew from before, someone that he trusted – even if Zack didn't quite trust her himself, not yet, not after she let Cloud run around topside to blow up mako reactors. But regardless of Zack's personal feelings on the matter, Cloud had finally grasped some sort of stability again. Stability that he desperately needed in order to fully recover from his mako poisoning, amnesia, and whatever else Hojo had inflicted onto him.
And I won't let Shinra to get in the way of that, he knew, and his hands tightened into fists at his side. In that moment, he knew that he would do to anything to keep their small bubble of stability safe.
Anything at all.
And when the elevator dinged as it arrived onto the lodging floor, the mako in his eyes were burning bright and hot.
His steps rang hollow as he stepped into the hallway. But the Turks also have a fully-equipped hospital, a small piece of him whispered as he made his way to his borrowed room. Cloud could use some professional treatment, too.
But does he? another part of him asked, and he shoved his hands into his pockets as he turned the corner. I mean, the Turks couldn't help with his mako poisoning. The nurse had said so herself – all she could do was make Cloud comfortable until he woke up on his own. Nothing else could be done. And besides, he's awake now, and the potions seem to be helping. His gaze occasionally slid to the shadows, to the voices echoing beneath closed doors. Cloud's already so much better than yesterday. So he doesn't need a doctor anymore, he decided. Especially not a Shinra-paid doctor.
Which reminded him…
They were all Shinra-paid doctors.
The thought hit him like a punch to the gut, and left him stumbling and sputtering. Shit. Goosebumps peppered his skin. Shit shit shit. He shouldn't have even agreed to the medical treatment in the first place. Sure, he had been unconscious at the time and filled with more metal that his actual sword, but he should have left the moment he had woken up. Should have taken Cloud with him, too. They were better off alone.
Maybe I should find out where they store medical data, Zack thought as he stopped in front of his door, pausing only momentarily before opening it. He felt numb. Spiralling. Destroy it all, just in case. Because... Because what if Hojo wants it?
Zack leaned against the doorframe for a moment before pushing himself inside the room. The door clattered shut behind him.
Except Tseng said that they don't work for Hojo. He slowly exhaled as he saw the letters on the nightstand, right where he had left them, and he put them all in the box before cinching it closed, his hands faintly trembling. But that they do work for the president.
He harshly sighed. Damn. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers snagging the knots, and forced his grating breaths to even. Why didn't I realize this earlier?
But the answer came brutally quick: That he had been so focused on getting Cloud back up and running, so in shock from surviving the cliff and the unfamiliar feeling of safety afterwards, that he had completely forgotten that the dangers hadn't just ended because they got to Midgar.
No. His hands clenched into fists. I hadn't just forgotten.
He had ignored it.
Ignored all of the dangers because he had wanted to feel safe. Protected. Even - and he hated to admit this - cared for. He had wanted to savor it for a moment because he had finally reunited with Aerith, Cloud had finally woken up, and everything was finally getting better. He had ignored everything else.
Like how the Turks worked for Shinra.
Like how Hojo was practically down the street now.
Like how everything was definitely not perfect. That he still had to regain Aerith's trust and make up for five missing years, no matter what she told him or reassured him otherwise; and sure, Cloud was getting better, but was nowhere near a hundred percent.
And now he had to deal with all of that.
"Damn," he muttered under his breath. He glanced out the window, at the jagged Midgar skyline through the glass window pane. At the plaza below, full of people and colorful shops, to the bustling streets leading in and out. He could make out cars on the highway, their red taillights streaking down the road, overlapping with one of another in a blur of motion and color. The mako-heavy sky rested heavily on the city, drowning it in a thin layer of haze. He could almost see it dew against the glass.
The glass fogged beneath his clammy fingers as he pressed his hand to the window pane. What do I do? he asked his reflection before closing his eyes, his temple thudding against the glass. Angeal… what would you do?
No answer was forthcoming, as expected, so Zack provided his own. You'd probably tell me not to forget my SOLDIER honor, he thought with a smile, and then lifted his head. Pinned his gaze once more on the horizon, and continued, And then you'd lecture me on staying focused during a mission.
He slowly exhaled. That's right. This was a time-sensitive mission. He only had an hour, two hours max, to screw around here before he met up to Aerith and Cloud. They were waiting for him, after all. He didn't want to let either of them down. He couldn't.
Not this time.
So he shoved himself off of the window and, while also shoving all of his spiraling thoughts into a deep, dark, forgotten corner of his mind, forced himself to move out of the room and down the hall. Forced himself to get in the elevator. Press the button. Stop fidgeting with the corner of the letter box as the elevator slowly moved downward. It was a small blessing that no one got in the elevator with him, and he silently thanked all of the gods, both known and unknown, as the elevator uneventfully dinged at his destination and the doors to the armory slid open. He stepped off…
… only to nearly run right into Cissnei, who had been busy slipping a dagger into the sleeve of her summer sweater.
"Oh!" She took a step backward, blinking in surprise. "Zack?"
Zack attempted a thin smile, but his nerves were frayed and it didn't feel natural. "Uh, hi." He side-stepped around her, determined to grab his sword and go. "Sorry about that – didn't see you."
"Wait." Her small fingers suddenly latched around his wrist, and her touch startled him. It took all of his self control not to snap his hand away. "You need to know something. But I..." She worried her lip. "I can't tell you here."
Dread sank into Zack like a stone, and he thickly swallowed. "How bad?" he asked, because really, he knew better than to expect something good at this point.
She met his gaze, and her copper eyes were unblinking as she replied, "Bad." She spared a quick glance at the armory, as if confirmed that it was well and truly empty, before she turned back to him and murmured, "You need to leave. It's not… It's not safe here for you anymore."
Then she let his arm go.
It fell limp at his side as his mind struggled to process what she had said. What she was implying. Yet his mind worked in circles, its gears grinding together, disjointed, breaking apart, snapping off little shards of anxiety with every grating rotation. It was like swallowing glass.
"What happened?" he finally asked, his tone equally low. His skin felt like it was burning, and yet his insides shivered as if cold. "Is Hojo..." He thickly swallowed, not wanting to ask, but needing to know regardless. "Is Hojo… Is he looking for us?"
Cissnei just about winced, which for a Turk was pretty telling. "He's not looking for you," she finally admitted. "But he is looking for Cloud."
Zack went pale.
Fuck. "No." Every cell within him rejected the thought. Wanted to eject the notion from his mind and ignore it, like Cissnei hadn't said anything at all, but wasn't that his problem? Wasn't he in this mess in the first place because he ignored all of the dangers in Midgar?
Now he was paying the price.
"No," he whispered again. The box of Aerith's letters rested heavily in his arms. "Cissnei, please tell me that's not true."
But she only shook her head. "I can't do that," she murmured, and there was something like regret in her eyes as she looked back up to him. "I'm sorry."
Zack suddenly felt dangerous near to tears, but he brutally forced it back.
"Cissnei," he said, his voice hard, "you need to tell me everything you know."
She met his gaze. "I can't do that here."
"Cissnei -"
But then she was looking past him, at the elevator that had closed sometime during their conversation. Her eyes narrowed, and then Zack heard it, too; the tell-tale rumble of the elevator making its way back down to their floor.
"Zack," Cissnei began with new urgency, "it's not safe here. So I can't explain everything right now, but I will. I'll find you," she swore. "I'll find you and tell you everything I know."
"Not as a Turk, I'm guessing," Zack ventured.
Cissnei sadly smiled. "Not as a Turk," she said, and then her gaze jumped behind him again. "Act natural."
Zack's brow furrowed. "Act -"
The elevator dinged behind him.
"Zack!" Cissnei suddenly exclaimed, as if it was their first meeting. Zack blinked in surprise. Her expression shifted; any seriousness, any hardness, faded away into something pleasant and warm. "I didn't expect to see you here. Have fun last night?" she added, her tone teasing. "We missed you."
"Uh..." Zack wasn't good at this. "My bad?"
"Zack!" Reno stepped out of the elevator, his eyes wide as he stared into the elevator. "Shit man, where the hell you've been? Talk about perfect timing."
"Oh, uh, hey Reno." Zack attempted a natural smile, but it felt stiff and awkward and wrong. All he could think about was Cissnei telling him that it wasn't safe here, that he needed to leave, but now Reno was saying that his timing was perfect… "Er, what's up?"
"Zack was just telling me that he got stuck on the upper plate last night," Cissnei said, covering for him. "He only just made it back down."
"Must have just missed Tseng, then," Rude said, who was now standing beside Reno. "He was on the upper plate all night."
"Huh, must have, then. Too bad," Zack replied, even as he thought, Thank the gods.
"Anyway, because of the shit last night," Reno continued, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor, "Tseng ordered that we take you to Wall Market, lower Sector Six."
"Wall Market?" Zack's brow furrowed. He was familiar with Wall Market; everyone had been, when he had still worked for Shinra as a SOLDIER. "Why?"
"For safekeeping," Rude answered. "We're familiar with your situation regarding Shinra, and they'll be vigilantly patrolling the streets for suspicious individuals. We don't want you to get involved."
Zack glanced at Cissnei, who looked as impassive as ever. "And Cloud?" he asked after a lengthy pause. "What about him?"
Reno and Rude briefly shared a look. A very telling look, one that chilled Zack to his core before Reno turned back to him and replied, "You're gonna have to ask Tseng about Strife." Zack only stared blankly. "He didn't give us the details, really."
I bet he didn't, Zack thought darkly.
"But we'll find him, Zack," Cissnei quickly told him. She managed a thin smile, one that was meant to be comforting, but it only left pins and needles coursing up and down his spine. Her warning that it wasn't safe here, that he needed to leave was far too fresh in his mind for any sort of comfort. "And as soon as we do, we'll send him your way. You should go."
You should go.
She was telling him that it was okay to go with Reno and Rude, and after a lengthy pause, Zack finally nodded. He'd trust her... for now. "Okay," he said, turning to Reno and Rude. "Let's go. When do we leave?"
"Now," Rude replied.
Reno nodded his agreement. "Yeah, man. Now. Tseng wanted you down in Wall Market like, yesterday. We're already behind."
"Fine," Zack replied, already turning away. "Let me just grab my sword first."
"Your sword?" Reno sighed. "Dude, you don't need your sword in Wall Market."
"Well, I always bring my knife," Cissnei pointed out.
"Well, that's different," came Reno's reply as Zack lifted his sword off of the wall. "You're a girl."
Cissnei arched a delicate eyebrow. "Oh?"
"I, uh, I mean… You're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, obviously, but like… You know…" Reno sighed, giving up. "You know what? Never mind."
Rude dryly chuckled as Cissnei said, "Smart answer."
Zack pulled on a magnetic holster with practiced ease and snapped the Buster Sword on top.
And just like that, for the first time in days, he suddenly felt more in control. He had missed his sword's weight again his back. Its heavy reassurance, and now he felt like he could handle whatever the Turks threw at him. After all, no matter what happened, he could always fight his way out. Wouldn't be the first time, and probably wouldn't be the last.
And besides, maybe this actually may be a good thing, he thought. Wall Market was right next to Sector Seven, so he'd just sneak away while Reno and Rude weren't looking or something, and meet Cloud and Aerith that way. But of course, that meant that he wouldn't have the chance to destroy the medical evidence they now had on himself and Cloud…
He clenched his jaw. Damn. He should have asked Cissnei to do it while they had been alone, but whatever. He'd just have to do it later.
"Got your sword?" Reno asked when Zack got close, and when Zack nodded in reply, the Turk continued, "Good. Then let's go to the rooftop garage. We'll take one of the cars."
"Works for me," he easily replied, and followed Reno and Rude back into the elevator. He turned just in time to meet Cissnei's gaze on the other side; alarm flickered through her copper, eyes but then the doors began to slide shut and she tore her gaze away, biting her lip, holding back everything she had wanted to say.
Zack thickly swallowed, the box of letters suddenly heavy in his hands.
It's not safe anymore, she had told him.
You need to leave.
"Hey, Reno..."
"Hm?"
"How long will I be in Wall Market?"
Reno shrugged as he fiddled with his stun rod. "I dunno," was his reply. "Until Tseng needs you, I guess."
The elevator seemed to chill ten degrees.
"Oh," Zack slowly replied. "Okay."
Rude glanced down at him. "You okay? You seem… off."
"Yeah, fine." Zack rolled his shoulders, trying and failing to fight off his raw, sparking nerves. Shit. Cissnei had told him to act natural, but what did that mean? What did natural even look like anymore? "Just… a long night," he lamely continued.
Reno seemed to accept the answer, and loudly huffed in reply, "Tell me about it."
The elevator dinged as they arrived onto the roof, and they all stepped out into the thin sunlight. Zack squinted into the artificial glow.
Wall Market, he thought glumly, here we come.
I hope you all enjoyed Confused Cloud as much as I enjoyed writing him lol
But anyway, let's talk about Zack for a moment. In Crisis Core, Zack's decision to go to Midgar was solely influenced by the fact that Aerith was there, but I felt like some of the other stuff - like Midgar being Shinra's HQ, Hojo lives there, old coworkers live there, etc - got swept under the rug a little bit? And I wanted to address that in this story.
Speaking of the story, Halcyon Days will be 40 chapters long (give or take a couple) and will be the first installment of a series. My plan is for Halcyon Days to cover Midgar, and then we'll go from there until the end of FF7. So yes, an incredibly long story, but I'm so excited to write it & I hope that you'll all join me to the end :)
VOTING
We have another dress scene coming up that I'd like your help with!
1) Voting will be the same as last time - please drop a comment letting me know what dress you'd prefer Cloud to wear :)
2) Voting will continued until September 14th (so two weeks to vote instead of one), which will give everyone plenty of time to vote (and give me plenty of time to write the chapter lol)
Thank you!
Chapter 21 will be published on Thursday, September 10th. Until then, stay well, stay safe, and I wish you all the best :)
I'm Rand0mSmil3z on Twitter - all of my chapter snippets are posted there first, along with story updates and general positivity :) Links to my Ko-Fi and other stories are there, too!
