Warnings: Lab Flashback in 2nd Cloud POV (marked by separators), Johnny is Chaotic Stupid
Happy Thursday! I hope everyone is having a good week so far :)
Hugh thank you to silver-doe-287 for being such an amazing beta reader :) If this chapter sounds so much better than usual (which is does LOL), you know who to thank!
And without further ado, enjoy the chapter :)
Don Corneo's mansion was far gaudier than Tifa had imagined. Its exterior was a brilliant red, while gold accents had been inlayed beneath the angled roof and around every wall. A large banner hung above the entranceway, dominating the space, and painted against its opaque background were bloody characters meaning Corneo.
The sharp edges and gentle curves of the characters made Tifa sick to look at, so instead she shifted her gaze and tried to ignore Corneo's name lording down on her. Paper lanterns hung beside the banner, and their scarlet glow gave the entranceway a hellish aura and lit her figure flame-red as she ascended the lengthy steps leading up to the front door. Golden dragons greeted her once she reached the top of the dais and their snaking bodies, carved out of hard marble, mirrored each other; they coiled and twisted around themselves in a complex knot made of hammered scales and pointed talons, and their slitted eyes followed her as she was escorted through the mansion's impressive doors.
Yet before Tifa stepped through the threshold - before the doors had fully opened, and the mansion's stale air hadn't quite reached her - she glanced back over her shoulder towards Wall Market, at the town stretched out beneath her, and something tugged painfully in her chest. She memorized its tin roofs and shambling buildings. Memorized how the streets wandered and tangled together, a hopeless mess of alleyways and side roads, before she sharply inhaled and turned back around, shoulders squared and chin held high.
It was too late to turn back now.
The inside of the mansion was just as gaudy as the exterior. The entrance hallway was packed tight with things - things like statues, carts, water fountains, potted plants - but she tried to keep her gaze level, staring stoney-faced at the next door. Still, she couldn't help but glance to the murals painted against the walls... and what she saw struck her cold. The mural depicted some sort of battle. Spears stuck grotesquely out of prone bodies and fire wrapped around the border, and buried within the fire was a soaring angel. Its wings stretched across the battle while it looked down in judgement, its metal lips pressed into a scowl, and its harsh, apathetic frown chipped something inside of her. It was an effort to tear her gaze away. To remind herself to breathe.
It's too late, she reminded herself as she clasped her hands tightly in front of her. Her palms were cold and clammy. I'm here. And I'm okay.
"Made it, thank the gods," her once-prisoner, now reluctant driver, hissed at her side. He slammed the doors behind them, and the sound echoed through the hallway. "Let's get this over with."
It was the first time Tifa had agreed with him all day, and she obediently fell in step behind him as he guided her through the entrance hall and to another set of impressive doors – these inlayed with the characters meaning wealth, power, and luck. Three men guarded the door. All three looked very different from each other; the one of the far left had black hair, slicked back undoubtedly with a handful of gel, and he wore a similarly dark tank top with a golden dragon weaving around middle. The one on the far right had a similar feel about him - his leather vest remained unbuttoned, undoubtedly to show off his toned physique, and a black bandana covered his hair.
However, it was the man that stood in the middle of the group that had Tifa pausing. Unlike the other two, he was on the shorter side and slighter of frame, but he was far better dressed. A black cap covered his silver hair, and his similarly silver shirt was hidden beneath a dark leather vest. He also seemed to be the most self-assured out of the group: while the other two raked her with hungry gazes and shuffled impatiently on their feet, he only stood calmly, coolly, and his golden gaze never strayed from her eyes.
She was surprised to see something like regret in his expression, and she almost – almost – dropped her gaze. But instead, she steadied herself and met his stare head-on. He blinked, as if surprised at the resolve burning within her crimson gaze, but then the corners of his lips twitched upwards.
She had impressed him.
"Kotch, you've made it," said the man to the far left, interrupting her thoughts. He didn't turn to look at her reluctant driver while he spoke to him, however. Instead, he continued to stare straight at her, his gaze pitched slightly lower than her face. She had the sudden urge to deck him. "You didn't check in last night, bro."
The man to the far right snickered. "Found a pretty lady to keep you company instead?"
"Piss off," her escort, Kotch, replied. "I didn't touch her. She's for the Don."
It was only then that the man in the middle, the one with the silver hair and golden eyes, turned away from her. "Hoping to get back in Corneo's good graces, are you?" he said.
"Shut up, Leslie," Kotch snapped. "Like you're any better off after what you did."
The silver-haired man, Leslie, narrowed his eyes a fraction, and for a moment, Tifa thought that they would begin arguing… but instead, he only shook his head and sighed. "Give her to me," he ordered, and lifted his head to once again pin her beneath his golden stare. "I'll take her to the waiting room."
"Hell no!" Kotch protested. He took a menacing step forward. "I found her, so I'll take her to the Don."
He found her, he said… like she was a shiny stone in the road, and not a person made of flesh and blood and soul. Like she was a thing.
The thought had her clenching her hands into fists, and they were lucky - so lucky - that she wasn't wearing her gloves at the moment. That she wanted to make a good impression. But the moment she got what she came here for...
"You sure you want to be talking to me like that?" Leslie asked. His tone remained unassuming, but there was something else buried there, something that sounded very much like a threat of violence… or the promise of one.
And Kotch thickly swallowed, suddenly nervous. "I..." he began, but then to Tifa's surprise, went silent. After a lengthy pause, he simply took a step backwards and inclined his head, clearly giving up. His movements were stiff and his shoulders were tight, and he just about bit out, "The girl's all yours."
Tifa's eyes widened in surprise. But for Leslie to have such command, that he could just order Corneo's men and they'd obey him...
Her gaze slipped back to Leslie. Who is he? she wondered. It was then that she noticed the necklace dangling from his neck; its pendant was gold and made of hard metal, and it had been carved into the shape of a delicate, blooming flower. In fact, it looked very much like a woman's necklace, which had Tifa frowning. There was a story there, she figured. One that she wasn't sure that she wanted to know.
Besides, why should I care? she asked herself. The less I know about Corneo's men, the better.
Movement in front of her drew her attention back to the present. Leslie had opened the second pair of doors, and now had his hand extended towards her, clearly inviting her closer. "This way," Leslie told her, his hand still extended. "Let's take you to the Don."
Anxiety trilled within her at his words, a piercing song that set her nerves afire, but she pushed it all aside with a soft exhale. She needed to be stronger. As strong as she knew that she could be, and she looped her hand around his arm. "All right," she murmured, and he offered her a faint nod before guiding her deeper into the mansion.
But as they walked, their footsteps ringing hollow against the floor, she couldn't help but think… I wish Cloud was here.
Something cracked inside her at the thought.
And just like that, the careful hold that Tifa had had on her emotions splintered, and she thickly swallowed past the hard lump in her throat. Suddenly, she missed Cloud. Missed him desperately, until missing him became a physical ache in her chest; an ache so deep and so strong that her eyes burned, her chest felt tight, and the room didn't seem to have enough air. All she could now think about was that she didn't know where Cloud was, if he was even okay - if he was even alive, and as she was escorted deeper into Corneo's mansion and her boots tapped against the tiles, all she could see were his blue eyes reflected inside every sapphire hammered into the wall. His blond hair streaked within the ceiling's golden mural, a pretty piece depicting angels, and light, and redemption – such sweet things, for so dark and tragic of a place.
Tifa dropped her gaze, blinking back the sting in her eyes. I can't believe I'm doing this, she thought. Maybe coming to Corneo's mansion had been a bad idea. Maybe, just maybe, she should have stayed home and waited for Cloud there – where it was safe.
Except Cloud wouldn't be safe there, she reminded herself. There's a bounty on his head – a bounty hunter showed up this morning even – but Corneo knows who set it.
She slowly exhaled her growing anxiety. Forced her splintered, jagged heart to piece itself back together. That's right. Finding out that information was her responsibility, and the reminder steeled her nerves, steadied the storm brewing inside of her, and she lifted her head and squared her shoulders.
I can do this, she told herself. Then:
Even if I can't, I have to.
"You don't want to be here," Leslie suddenly said.
She glanced at him in surprise – she had been so engrossed in her mind, her thoughts, her heavy emotions, that she had forgotten that he was here. But then what he had told her sunk in, and she lifted her chin and looked away. "I do, actually."
Leslie watched her for a moment, watched her with a too-knowing look set in a too-old expression. "No," he said, eventually. There was a strange finality to his tone. "You don't."
With that, he guided her to the second floor and towards the room situated in the far back. Compared to the rest of the mansion, this room was almost bland; it had no decoration, and with a pause she noticed that other men were already waiting inside. They, like the two remaining guards by the first pair of doors, wore leather vests, shirts with dragon-like motifs, and had hungry looks in their eyes that had her clenching her jaw and itching for a weapon - like the dagger hidden in the sleeve of her dress, for instance.
"Whatever you came here for," Leslie suddenly murmured behind her, "I hope it's worth it."
It was then that she noticed that Leslie hadn't followed her inside, and she turned to him in confusion just in time to see him say:
"I'm sorry."
And with that, he closed and locked the door.
Tifa's gaze narrowed, thoroughly unsettled, when suddenly the vents in the ceiling opened and a pink haze spilled out of them. The haze tasted sweet, almost sickeningly so, and she blinked at it in confusion before horror dawned within her.
I'm being drugged, she suddenly, stunningly realized, only for rage to flicker through her.
How dare they.
She covered her mouth with one of her long sleeves even as she sprinted towards the door... only to immediately change tactics when the other men slipped on their gas masks. She could use one of those, and she pivoted on her heel as she slipped a hand into her sleeve. Her fingers brushed against the cold hilt of her dagger...
... only for her leg to suddenly give out beneath her. She went wide-eyed as she collapsed, her knees cracking against the floor.
No.
She curled her hand against the plush carpet as she struggled to push herself up, struggled to stand, horror spiking through her. Yet the ground swayed nauseously beneath her, and she couldn't muster up the energy to even move. Strands of dark hair fell in front of her wide eyes.
Please, no.
Black spots wavered in her vision as she glanced back at the door, thinking now that maybe she could crawl to it and kick it open somehow... but then she noticed that the other men were walking towards her. She looked up at them, could see their smiles crinkle their shining eyes.
Oh gods...
They reached for her. She sucked in breath at their splayed hands and curled fingers, only to instantly regret it as sweet vapor filled her lungs. She coughed weekly, darkness flickering in her vision, until her body was unwilling to hold her up a moment longer and she sank fully to the floor.
No, no no...
A hand brushed against her arm, and she heard talking - something like how they couldn't touch her, how she was supposed to be saved for the Don, but it was just noise. Just white noise filling the spaces in her aching head, and her head rolled as she was pulled to her feet.
Cloud, she silently, slowly pleaded. Save...
Fingers wrapped around her arms, and her eyelashes fluttered shut.
The world went hopelessly dark.
Wall Market was far larger than Cloud had imagined... and far more confusing. The entire town had been built like a maze. Tin shacks were stacked beside each other and, in some case, even built on top of one another in erratic, leaning towers held together with cobwebs of tarps and strung lights. The shacks bled onto the main road in half-rotten blankets with fading colors, only to suddenly break off into thin alleyways and drunken roads that wandered between the proper buildings - the ones made of mortar, concrete, and roofs that didn't rust when it rained. Neon signs marked the more wealthy establishments. Painted cardboard signs marked the others, and some had been decorated with bits of broken glass or pretty stones plucked off the dirt road.
But it wasn't just the buildings that had Cloud tensing. There were people in the town, too; rough-looking people, people that he could all-too easily imagine having knives hidden in their sleeves, though a majority were sprawled out on the ground still sleeping off yesterday's liquor. Many still gripped glass bottles, and it was only the faint rise and fall of their chests that indicated that they were still alive.
Yet, despite the ragged town and the even more ragged people, it was the smell that had Cloud truly on edge. His nose wrinkled as it was assaulted with ripe old sweat, dried vomit, urine, and stale alcohol. Gods, he already hated this town, and they had barely stepped foot in it.
"Wow," Aerith murmured beside him. "This is... something, isn't it?"
Cloud didn't even reply, only pulled his hood lower on his head as they walked down the main road. The sickening scent only grew more pungent the further they went, and he kept his gaze firmly on the middle of the road - he didn't want to see what was lying on the side or, even worse, in the alleys; though, his gaze would occasionally flick back to Aerith, just to make sure that she was okay. That she was keeping up, and that she wasn't nearly as grossed out by this entire venture as he was. He had promised Zack that he would take care of her, after all.
And he intended to keep that promise.
As it turned out, Corneo's mansion was not difficult at all to find. The main road, as wandering and drunken as it was, led right up to its front door. Paper lanterns formed a net above the road leading up to it, and Cloud only spared a quick glance at the twin dragons guarding the mansion's entrance before pushing open the front doors.
Tifa, he thought as the doors groaned open, please be safe.
He stepped inside. Aerith walked close behind, her steps ringing hollow and lips pursed into a frown. It was clear that she was just as tense as he was, if her silence was any indication, and he made a point to walk a little closer to her as they made their way to the front. He wasn't sure for who's benefit, though.
The three men who had been standing guard in front of the second pair of doors glanced their way as they strode forward. The two on the outside looked incredibly bored by their presence, as if they weren't even worth a second glance. But it was the silver-haired man, who stood in the middle of the group, who seemed to visibly tense at the sight of them.
"Not so fast, buddy," the silver-haired man said when it became apparent they weren't going to stop. He made a point to step in front of Cloud to block the door, and Cloud's eyes flashed with white-hot irritation - irritation that went completely ignored. Back it up. Got no need for pretty boys here."
"We're looking for someone," Cloud said, and there was a storm in his voice - a tempered edge that chilled the room and had the guards tensing.
Yet the silver-haired man only huffed a laugh. "Let me guess," he said, shifting his weight and placing a gloved hand on his hip. "First time in Wall Market?"
A tic worked in Cloud's jaw. "Yeah," he bit out. "So?"
"So people can't just walk through the Don's front door." The silver-haired man said this as if this was the most obvious thing in the world, and the two standing beside him cracked grins. "Especially men."
Aerith suddenly lit up at Cloud's side. "Ooh, how 'bout me, then?" she piped up, lifting a hand. "Can I go inside?"
Cloud turned to Aerith, wide-eyed. "Aeri-"
"Maybe," the silver-haired man interrupted, and Cloud shot him a scathing look - one that, again, went completely ignored. "But you're gonna wish you didn't."
"Well, y'know, Leslie," began the man to his immediate right, the one wearing the dragon tank top. "She is kinda cute." The other man turned to Aerith with a strange look in his eyes, one that Cloud did not like. Neither did Aerith, if the way she stiffened beneath his gaze was any indication. "Homely, but cute."
"Excuse you?" Aerith said, outraged.
"Kinda cute is not gonna cut it," said the silver-haired man, Leslie.
"Oh, come on," Aerith pouted. She turned to Leslie with her best pleading face, and added, "Can't you help us out?"
Something like frustration flickered across Leslie's expression, and there was a hard undercurrent to his tone as he told her, "Do you have any idea what you're gettin' yourself into?"
"Seriously, Les, she's not half bad!" interrupted the third man, the one wearing the black leather vest. "With a little help, I bet she'd clean up real nice."
Aerith's expression darkened. "Cloud," she said without looking up at him. "Requesting permission to kill."
Cloud was sorely tempted, but if Zack found out that he had encouraged Aerith to get in a fight... "Denied."
Aerith loudly huffed her frustration, and returned her pleading look to Leslie. "Please?" she said again.
And to Cloud's surprise, Leslie buckled beneath her stare. "Well," he slowly, hesitantly began, "if you're really sure that you wanna join the audition tonight... then you're gonna have to get official approval."
Aerith brightened considerably. "And who can give us that?"
"The Trio." Leslie crossed his arms over his chest, frowning. "They're the only ones in town that are considered authorities on Corneo's particular… tastes."
Cloud suddenly felt as if he had tasted something sour.
"First, there's Chocobo Sam," Leslie continued, lifting a single finger. Then he lifted a second and added, "And then there's Madam M, over at the massage parlor. And last but not least..." He lifted a third finger, and his lips twitched into a faint smirk. "There's the Honeybee Inn's Andrea Rhodea. They're an eccentric bunch, to put it mildly, and you should know that they don't recommend just any girl that is stupid enough to come knocking."
"Dully noted," Aerith said with a nod. "Thanks for the info. And," she added with a little smirk of her own, "we'll be back soon."
Leslie only huffed, but whether from amusement or exasperation, Cloud didn't know. All Cloud knew was that he was sick of this place, and so he turned back the way he came and followed Aerith back through the double doors, his hands in his pockets, absolutely fuming. The had been so close to rescuing Tifa. So close, and now this? This... whatever it was that they now had to do? Seemed like a waste of time.
Aerith seemed just as frustrated, though for an entirely different reason. "Homely, they called me," she grumbled, her brow pinched and lips pursed as they stepped out into the open air. "I'll show them homely."
Cloud squinted against the muggy breeze. "Is that really such a bad thing to say?"
"A bad thing to say?" Aerith's jaw dropped as she turned to look at him, and Cloud suddenly wished that he had kept his mouth shut. All of a sudden, he was reminded of her rant back at the Seventh Heaven bar - at the look of devastation on Barret's face as she dug into the entire Avalanche team. "Of course that's a bad thing to say!" she told him. "Especially to a woman! It's like… It's like calling them plain, or boring."
"Oh." Cloud shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets, trying to avoid eye contact. He didn't really get it - plain or boring definitely weren't the worst of insults, but… "That is bad," he agreed anyway.
"Thank you," Aerith huffed. "Now let's head back to Chocobo Sam. I've got something to prove now."
Cloud nodded, even as unease coiled and twisted deep inside of him. It wasn't long before his steps slowed, and then he had stopped walking entirely, his gaze pinned to the ground.
It took a moment before Aerith realized that Cloud wasn't following anymore. "Cloud?" she prompted, placing a hand on his arm. Her tone was gentle. So gentle, that he wouldn't have guessed that she was even capable of verbally dragging someone through the mud. "Talk to me," she said. "Tell me what's on your mind."
But Cloud... Cloud didn't know what was on his mind. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to save Tifa, save her before she become some slumlord's wife, but he didn't want to put Aerith in danger to do it. There had to be another way. A better way, one that everyone came out of happy... but he couldn't think of it. He couldn't figure out a way to sneak into Corneo's mansion, couldn't figure out how to take out all of the guards without a weapon, and he had no money to even buy a weapon... and sure, he could steal one, but Tifa wouldn't like that. She'd get upset at him. And he... he didn't want to make her upset, ever.
He didn't know what to do.
Aerith patiently waited for Cloud to collect his thoughts, and when he did, he slowly lifted his head. "Aerith… Are you sure about this?" he finally began, his hands fidgeting within the pocket. A familiar anxiety was bubbling inside of him. "I... It's just..."
His voice trailed off, and Aerith squeezed his arm. "Don't worry, okay?" She lifted her head to look at Corneo's mansion; at its banner, the impressive dragons curling by the entrance way, the scarlet paint and golden accents, before her gaze dropped back to him and she smiled. "I know this isn't ideal, but I have a good feeling about this. And my feelings are usually right, you know."
"If you say so... Maybe we should wait for Zack," he added. "He'd know what to do."
"But so do you, Cloud," Aerith told him. "We have a plan of action, and now all we have to do is go through the steps." But then she paused, biting her lip. "Unless you're okay waiting for Zack, while Tifa is in Corneo's mansion?"
Cloud grimaced. "N... No," he admitted, shoulders slumping. "That's... I don't want to wait."
"Okay." Aerith dropped her hand with a nod. "Then we'll just keep doing what we're doing, then - get the Trio's approval, sneak in there, and rescue Tifa. It's a good plan, Cloud," she said again, which had him frowning. "We'll save her. Don't worry."
Cloud picked at the stray fuzz inside the pocket. "But... But I don't..."
"So that's the way it is, hm?"
Both Cloud and Aerith whirled at the new voice; Aerith's eyes widening in surprise and alarm, while Cloud sucked in a breath and reached over his shoulder for a sword that wasn't there. But it wasn't some thug or mugger, as he had been expecting. Instead it was some random guy standing in front of them. The man had a dopey smile on his face, and wore nothing but an open jacket and a pair of jeans. He stood cross-armed on the steps in front of them, smirking confidently, and his dyed-red hair had been gelled up into something like a tear drop.
Cloud took a step in front of Aerith, his weight perfectly balanced on the balls of his feet... just in case this turned ugly. "The hell are you?" he demanded.
But the man only looked past him, as if Cloud wasn't even there, and continued speaking as if Cloud hadn't spoken at all. "So," he said slowly, "Tifa's been invited into the Don's estate..."
Aerith snapped her gaze to Cloud, wide-eyed. He knows Tifa, her expression said, and Cloud's eyes met her gaze. His scowl deepened.
"...But," the stranger seamlessly continued, "to earn such a privilege, you must first win the approval by one of the Trio." Suddenly he pointed at Cloud, which had Cloud jolting, and madly grinned. "Right?!"
"How the hell do you know Tifa?" Cloud asked, his tone molten. "Who are you?"
"Me?" The corner of the man's lips lifted in a smirk. "I am Tifa's number one fan, Johnny! And I now know what I must do to save her!" But before Cloud could process such a statement, Johnny turned on his heel and lifted his arms to the metal plate above them. "Stay strong, Tifa!" he cried out. "Help is on the way!"
And with that, he dashed down the steps and disappeared into Wall Market, leaving both Cloud and Aerith blinking at his departing back.
Cloud was the first to react, and he turned to Aerith with a narrowed gaze. "Did you see that too?" he asked. "That… That just happened, right? That was real?"
Aerith looked just as incredulous as he was. "Yeah… I think so." She didn't sound very sure. "He said his name was Johnny?"
"And he knew Tifa, somehow," Cloud added, scowling down the road where Johnny had disappeared too. "I don't like him."
"Of course not," Aerith laughed, with a tone that had Cloud bristling. "But don't worry - he's not much competition for you. He doesn't seem like the sharpest tool in the shed, if you know what I mean."
Cloud hummed noncommittally. "Let's just go to Chocobo Sam," he muttered after a pause. "Get this over with."
Aerith nodded her agreement. "Let's do it."
The path to the small stable on Wall Market's edge was still fresh in Cloud's mind, and he had no trouble navigating the wandering road back to it. They passed beneath the net of strung lanterns. Passed the food stalls lining the road, most of them closed while they prepared for the busy night, and all of the shops with their strange items and painted cardboard signs. They had even passed by Johnny on the way, who had somehow ended up in a dejected heap on the side of the road. "I should have known better," he had muttered as Cloud and Aerith hurried past. "Always go with your gut..."
Sam was already standing outside the stable, waiting for customers, though his expression darkened when he saw Cloud and Aerith approach. "Not you two again," he said when they neared. "Told you once, I'll tell you a thousand times – got nothin' for you. Now scram," he finished with an impatient wave of his hand. "Go back to wherever you came from."
"Wait!" Aerith said quickly, stepping forward. "Hear us out. You're one of the Trio, right? I want you to get me into the audition."
Sam squinted at Aerith. "Huh?"
Aerith only clasped her hands in front of her... almost like she was praying. "Pretty please?" she said while fluttering her lashes.
And Sam, to Cloud's astonishment, eventually sighed and said, "Why not?"
"Really!?" Aerith exclaimed, lighting up.
Cloud only narrowed his gaze. "Really?"
"Sure." Sam placed his hands on his hips, his tan skin constrasting with his faded jeans. "Next time an audition comes round, I'll put your name in the hat."
Cloud went cold. But next time will be -
"But next time will be too late," Aerith protested, echoing Cloud's thoughts. "Can't you get me into this one?"
Sam only stared at her for a moment, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You want in now?" he said, then shook his head with a snort of laughter. "No can do, sweetheart. I ain't got the time to place another bid, an' besides, I know better than to compete with Tifa. She's got this in the bag."
"Aw, don't say that!" Aerith pleaded, and Sam only scowled at her tone. His scowl deepened as she continued, "How can you be so sure that Corneo will pick Tifa? You never know, he may pick me!"
After a pause Sam exhaled, his cheeks blowing out with the motion. "Damn," he finally said. "You really do want in, don't you?"
"Sure do!"
Cloud tried to school his expression into one of indifference, but unease squirmed in his gut.
Sam only smirked. "Then how about we play for it?" the rancher asked, and he pulled a golden coin out of his pocket. It wasn't any coin that Cloud was familiar with, and his gaze narrowed as Sam pinched it between his thumb and forefinger before, with a strange look in his eyes, flicking it in the air.
The mako within Cloud's gaze flared as his eyes tracked its movements. Tracked its flips, its turns, how it glinted in the artificial light.
And the world shifted into shades of green.
Time slowed and all of a sudden, Cloud could clearly see the coin's rotations as it arched into the air. He could see the pattern printed against its metal: a chocobo, its face turned to the side... and both sides were identical.
It's a trick coin, Cloud realized as Sam snatched the coin out of the air and slapped it against his wrist. The sound echoed too loudly, and Cloud winced as the world faded back into regular shades, leaving him blinking and disoriented.
"Call it, missy," Sam told Aerith, completely ignoring Cloud. "Heads, or tails. Guess right," he added, "and I'll grant your wish. But guess wrong..." His gaze slid to Cloud, and the corner of his lips lifted. "And then you'll leave me in peace."
Cloud shook his head, trying to clear it. "N - No," he finally managed. "It's... It's a trick -"
"Heads!" Aerith suddenly called, interrupting him. She had thrown her hand into the air in excitement; Cloud stared at her in shock. "I call heads!"
Sam chuckled and lifted his hand off his wrist, revealing the coin.
It was tails.
Just like Cloud had known.
"Well, don't look so glum," Sam said at Aerith's expression "You're a pretty enough gal, just… not quite the Corneo's cup of tea." She lowered her head in dejection, only to lift it again when he added, "But if only the Don would do… maybe try convincing one of the other two. That's why it's called the Trio, and not the me-oh," he grinned. "Now skedaddle."
With that, he tilted his hat towards them and turned back to walk inside the stable lodgings.
"Wait!" Cloud stepped towards him, frowning, and Sam turned around with an eyebrow arched in question. "Mind if I... if I see that coin of yours?" he managed to ask.
Sam watched him for a moment before smirking. Without another word he flicked the coin to Cloud and disappeared inside the house, clearly done with them for the day, and Cloud caught the coin in his hand and twisted it between his fingers. His frown deepened. Both sides really were tails.
But I shouldn't have been able to notice that, he thought as Aerith took the coin from him and inspected it herself. It was like time slowed for a second there. Is that… He thickly swallowed. Is that normal? Or is that...
... Or is that a side effect from the experiments Zack had told me about. A shiver ran down his spine; his head felt foggy, like the thoughts were becoming disjointed, the string tying them together fraying and unraveling. A.. side effect from whatever they had done to me.
"That's cheating!" Aerith suddenly exclaimed, jolting Cloud out of his darkening thoughts, and then she turned to him with fire in her eyes. I can't believe he did that!"
Did what? Cloud nearly asked, but he remembered what a moment later, and he couldn't believe that he had forgotten in the first place. He thickly swallowed - he had to keep it together. Needed to stay calm. "Maybe... Maybe Wall Market is just that sort of place," he said. "Either way, we... we should be careful. Especially you."
"What! Why?"
"Because you're the... one who wants to infiltrate Corneo's mansion," Cloud haltingly explained as the two of them began heading back down the main road. "If something happened to you..."
"If something happens, then you and Zack would rescue me," Aerith stated matter-of-factly. Dust pillowed her footsteps. "So I'm not worried at all."
But who would rescue me from Zack? Cloud nearly told her, but didn't say it out loud. Instead he only shook his head again, trying to dispel some of the fog that was gathering in his mind. "So which... place do you want to check out first?" he managed. "The... The Honeybee Inn, or... or the... the massage place."
Aerith watched him for a moment, her expression unreadable. "You okay?" she finally asked.
Cloud just about winced. "Fine."
"Should we..." She bit her lip. "Should we look for a pharmacy or something first? Find you a potion?"
Cloud's brow furrowed and he shook his head. "No time." Besides, the thought of even drinking that metallic stuff made his stomach flip, and he shook his head again. "Just... where should we go first?"
Aerith pursed her lips, clearly not believing him. But she mercifully let the matter drop, instead turning her attention back to the road. "How about the Honeybee Inn?" she offered. "I have a good feeling about that place, and besides, I think it's pretty close by. I saw it on the way to the stable." With that she turned off the main road, choosing instead to walk down one of the thinner alleys, and Cloud followed close behind. "Maybe the owner - Andrea Rhodea - can help us. We'll just... explain the situation, or something. They'll have to help!"
Cloud said nothing in response. He only followed, his footsteps falling in rhythm with hers, his jaw clenched and nose wrinkled against the pungent alleyway smell. From there, they continued down the adjacent road – one that was lined with more adult establishments – before it ended at something like a plaza. The Honeybee Inn sat at its very end. It was something to look at, and even Cloud couldn't help but stare at the two cartoon-like neon structures of two honey bees hovering on top of its grand entrance. He didn't know what to make of it, but he didn't have time to gawk for very long because without warning, Aerith suddenly grabbed Cloud's wrist and dragged him behind one of the buildings.
"Aerith?" Cloud began, surprised, but Aerith quickly hushed them. She had a severe look to her eyes - a look that meant something was wrong.
"Do you see that van?" she murmured. There was an edge to her tone that hadn't been there before, and she peered around the building's edge, eyes narrowed against the afternoon glow. Cloud, thoroughly unsettled, followed her stare. "The black one, parked in front of the Honeybee Inn?"
"Uh, yeah." It was hard to miss. All of the windows were tinted, and there weren't any decals on the van – nothing that indicated who could possibly own it.
"That's a Shinra van," Aerith said, which had Cloud going cold. But he resisted the urge to duck behind the building, to hide, and only continued to watch as someone inside cut the car's engine. "I'd see them all the time back on the upper plate. But why would one of them be..."
Her voice trailed off when she noticed who got out. Her eyes flew wide.
"Zack?" Cloud breathed, just as surprised. "But... But why would he..."
Whatever else he was about to say trailed off and faded with the dust on the road, because Zack reached into the car and hauled out his Buster Sword. It glinted in the pale light, its edge wickedly sharp, and Zack's expression was just as sharp. His lips set into an angry line, his brow furrowed, as he glanced around the road. There was a nervous twitch to his hands, yet he managed a thin smile at the two other men who got out of the vehicle.
Aerith grabbed Cloud's sleeve, a seemingly unconscious gesture. "Reno?" she gasped as a red-haired man, one wearing a black-and-white suit, shut the passengers side door. Her fingers tug into his arm. "Which means… Rude must be here, too."
Sure enough, a second man got out of the driver's side door - he was tanner than the red-haired man, Reno, and had no hair at all. He also wore a pair of sunglasses, which gave him a severe expression as he glanced around the road. Reno said something to Zack; Zack chuckled, but the tone sounded strained.
Zack doesn't want to be there, Cloud immediately knew, and something hardened within him. Those two men were Turks - he'd recognize those suits anywhere. He and Tseng had even gone on missions together, once upon a time, though he wasn't as familiar with Reno or Rude. But what he did know was that the Turks worked for Shinra. Zack was with the enemy.
Which had him realizing: Have they captured Zack, somehow?
Cloud ducked behind the building, his palms clammy and nerves humming with electricity. No... No, Zack wouldn't let himself be caught. Besides, it didn't seem like Zack was captured. Sure, he looked uncomfortable, but he wasn't reaching for his sword or seemed like he was getting ready to fight. And he had said that they had stayed in a Turk hospital briefly, right after they had been ambushed in the Midgar wastes. So... maybe Zack being with them had something to do with that? Except Zack had promised that he would meet Cloud and Aerith at Seventh Heaven...
"I have a bad feeling about this," Aerith murmured, still peering out from behind the building.
Cloud pressed his lips together in a thin, white line. "Me too," he agreed, and then steeling himself, glanced back towards the van. Rude was ushering Zack inside of the Honeybee Inn, while Reno hovered outside with the car looking somewhat upset. Angry, even. He seemed to be debating something important, completely with faint mutters and hand waved, when all of a sudden he hissed, kicked the dust so that it clouded around his ankle, and then pulled his phone out of his back pocket.
Cloud watched, frozen, as Reno dialed some number and held the phone up to his ear. He could faintly hear it ring once, then twice, and then...
"...Tseng, it's me," Reno began, and Cloud just about flinched... though he wasn't entirely sure why. Reno's voice was faint, nearly too faint to hear, but Cloud was proficient at lip-reading – a small trick he had learned back from his infantry days, and had no trouble making out what Reno was saying. "We collected Fair," the red-haired Turk continued, "and have brought him to Wall Market."
"What are they saying?" Aerith hissed beside him.
"Reno called Tseng," Cloud murmured. "He's updating him on Zack. Just... hang on a second."
Aerith pursed her lips, but obediently went silent.
"...ain't a babysitter, Tseng." Reno was now pacing outside of the car, one arm waving animatedly. Despite being surrounded by the few people wandering the plaza, most didn't pay him any attention at all; those that did only gaze him a cursory glance, before turning away and continuing their walk, completely uninterested in whatever Reno was doing. "I'm tellin' you… Wait." Reno's arm suddenly dropped limp at his side, and he went wide-eyed - the picture of absolute surprise. "Wait, really?"
Cloud's body tensed at the sudden seriousness to his tone, and he ignored Aerith's worried glance.
"Shit," Reno muttered. "How did he get the photo…" His voice trailed off before he sharply exhaled, clearly frustrated. "From Scarlet? ...That bitch...Yes. Yes, Fair is secure. Rude is watching him now. And the plan is to continue using Strife as a distraction?"
Cloud went wide-eyed. What did he...
Reno paced the dirt. "...He won't like that, you know," he eventually continued. "How do you suppose you're going to keep that a secret? Fair isn't an idiot – he'll figure it out."
Cloud could only blink as his mind continued to be snagged on that word, distraction, and spiraled. Sunk a little deeper into the fog. I'm a distraction, his thoughts numbly repeated. But... But why? Why would the Turks use him as a distraction? How? For what? Or worse, from what?
But then Reno answered his question with his next breath:
"...Yes. Well, let's hope Hojo doesn't find Strife too soon, then."
Cloud breath caught in his throat.
Hojo, his mind weakly echoed. His hand lifted and gripped the fabric of his hoodie; it was suddenly hard to breathe, to think. Hojo, he wordlessly gasped. He's the one who…
… and suddenly, he was looking through curved glass. The world was stained shades of green. He couldn't move; couldn't move, and all he could do was kick weakly as bubbles drifted from the metal respirator strapped onto his face and brushed across his eyelashes on their way upward. He suddenly wished he was one of them. One of those little bubbles, clawing upward, bursting on the surface and disappearing entirely. He wanted to disappear, too.
There was sudden movement on the other side of the glass, and then Hojo's face came into view. His expression was warped and Cloud's vision was blurry, but there was no mistaking those owl-framed glasses. That hooked nose. That thin, twisted smile, the sort that had Cloud waking up in a cold sweat at night, the sort that seemed wildly pleased by Cloud's quiet distress.
Cloud watched as his lips moved, but the words were lost. Lost somewhere between the glass and the thick mako he was encased in, and all he could do was slowly blink when his respirator's oxygen was replaced by something else. Something that tasted strangely sweet on his tongue, and with a sudden trill of horror, he realized that he was being drugged. He was being knocked out. Being knocked out for... for something else, something that Hojo didn't want him awake for, which opened a whole other realm of horrible, nauseating possibilities...
Cloud tried lifting his arms, tried to remove the respirator. He'd rather drown in this mako than be under a microscope again, yet his limbs felt heavy, his eyes were closing, and the darkness was rapidly pulling him under...
"...Cloud!"
Cloud gasped, wide-eyed and trembling. "Fine," was the first thing he said. "I'm fine."
"Stay with me, Cloud," Aerith ordered. She had a hand against the side of his face, forcing him to look at her, to meet her gaze. "Everything is okay. You're safe now."
He managed a slow nod. Safe, his mind echoed. Safe, safe, safe.
"Breathe," Aerith told him.
And Cloud obediently took a breath. Took another when his lungs didn't fill with mako or gas, and the world slowly began to focus. The edges, once soft and warped by glass, began to sharpen. A building here. A streetlight there. Neon signs towering over him; his legs sprawled onto a dusty road. When he reached for his face his fingertips brushed against skin, instead of the hard metal of an oxygen mask. He released a shaky breath.
"Cloud," Aerith said, her tone delicate, "do you know where you are?"
He stared at her, uncomprehending for a moment, before realization bled into him and he nodded. "Wall... Wall Market," he said with a stutter - and just like that, the pieces began to align. "We're saving Tifa," he continued, lifting his head. Recognition flickered across his expression. "And now we... we gotta save Zack."
"That's right," Aerith replied, her voice reassuring. Yet her gaze was worried as she scanned his face, his expression, looking for any lingering pain or hurt. "What happened?" she asked after a pause. "Did you remember something?"
Cloud sharply exhaled, and he honestly replied, "I hope not."
Aerith's expression broke, and she suddenly she was wrapping him up in a hug. Cloud stiffened, his body going rigid, before he forced himself to relax. Forced himself to calm down. "I'm... I'm sorry," he said after a lengthy pause. His hands rested on her sides, unwilling to hug her completely, yet craving the contact. The comfort. "I freaked out. I'm sorry. I'm -"
"Sorry?" Aerith pulled away and locked her eyes with his. "Cloud, you have absolutely nothing to apologize for. I promise that you don't."
He wasn't entirely sure about that, but he ducked his head regardless.
"Do you want..." She bit her lip, suddenly hesitant. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Cloud thickly swallowed. No, he didn't want to talk about it. He never wanted to think about it again.
Aerith understood his expression, because then she nodded. "Okay," she said. "Okay, we don't have to talk about it. But... But do you want to tell me what Reno had said? On the phone?"
No. Cloud didn't want to do that either, but he only exhaled and forced himself to say it anyway. "I... I heard..." His fingers twitched, and he suddenly wished that he was holding a weapon. Any weapon. It didn't matter to him which kind anymore. "Reno... he was upset," he stammered. "Tseng ordered him and Rude to watch over Zack, though I don't really know why. And he mentioned a... a photo, too. From Scarlet, but I don't know what it meant, he didn't say."
"Anything else?" Aerith asked when Cloud's voice trailed off.
"Um, he also said... he said..." He leaned back into the building behind him, feeling suddenly heavy. Like his limbs had been replaced by lead. "He also said that I... I was being used as a distraction. A distraction, because..." That heavy feeling twisted inside of him. Pulled and tugged at things within him, things drawn so taunt that they seemed intent to snap, and Cloud squeezed his eyes shut. "Because... Because Hojo is looking for me."
Aerith went wide-eyed. "Hojo is?"
Even the mere mention of the mad scientist's name had shivers coursing up and down Cloud's spine. "Y - Yeah," he managed. "That's what Reno said."
"How did he...?"
How did he find you, Aerith had nearly said, and she didn't need to finish her sentence for Cloud to understand. He had a few ideas, starting with that damn reactor. He never should have blown up that reactor, never should have agreed to do it. But if Tifa had gone in his place... His hand tightened into a fist. That wasn't acceptable, either. No, it was better that he had gone. Better him than her.
"It's... it's okay," he finally managed. "It's fine."
"Fine?" Aerith shot him a long look. "Cloud, this... this isn't fine, and you know it."
He did. He knew it so well that he could taste copper and iron, but for the moment, he just... wanted to pretend. "Let's just focus... focus on getting Zack away from the Turks," he said instead. He hands rested limp in his lap, and his gaze fell heavily onto them. The fog was lingering in his head. He thought he could hear birds. "Zack can help us rescue Tifa. And then... then we can all go home," he finished.
Aerith watched him for a moment as he ducked his head, again, and no longer met her eyes. Finally, she sighed. "Would that help?" she asked. "Help... you?"
Cloud simply nodded.
"Then okay," Aerith faintly exhaled, resolve settling within her. "Okay, let's do it. Let's go save everyone. And prove to everyone how badass we can be," she added, her tone almost teasing now.
Teasing for his sake, so he felt a little better, and he closed his eyes. "Thank you," he murmured before lifting his head. Blinking slowly, he asked, "Where did they take Zack?"
"He went inside with Reno and Rude," came Aerith's response as she peeked out from behind the building, and her eyes narrowed at the Honeybee Inn's front door. "Think we should go after them?"
After a pause, Cloud nodded his agreement. "We'll need to be careful," he said.
"I think so too... and I think I have a plan." Aerith turned back to look at him, and her lips were set in determination. Determination and something else, one that had Cloud arching an eyebrow at. "So this is what we're going to do..."
Cissnei could count on one hand how many times she had regretted something.
The first had been when she had first been brought to a Shinra-sponsored orphanage, and had stolen another girl's dinner on her first night there. The little girl had cried all night, and Cissnei had felt terribly about it – terribly enough to swear to never do something like that again.
The second had been she had been scouted for the Turks, and had broken Tseng's nose during a skirmish. She had immediately set it, but his nose remained crooked to this day, and she couldn't help but feel a small twinge of guilt every time she saw him.
The third had been when she had simply let Zack go and drag Cloud with him, without even providing any help, transportation, supplies, or even information. She regretted that she hadn't done more to help them.
Her fourth regret was rescuing Zack and Cloud from the Midgar wastes, and damning them both.
And as for the fifth…
… Well, Cissnei wasn't entirely sure what she was regretting just yet. All she knew was that there was an ache deep in her chest, a heavy throb that threatened to bring her to her knees and leave her cold and shivering, and there was just no ignoring it. Nothing she could do to ease the ache.
But it didn't matter. When she walked down the Shinra hallway, her shoulders were squared and she kept her chin high. She had switched her summer dress for her Turk uniform, and the sleek blazer and sharp slacks cut a striking edge to her smaller, lithe figure. She felt dangerous. Powerful. And, with her large shurikan held tightly in her hand, deadly.
And everyone that glanced her was knew it, too.
So no one stopped her when she took the elevator to a prohibited floor. No one dared meet her stony gaze as she opened up one of the storage rooms, using a keycard she had stolen on the way in, and slipped inside the room. And no one saw her when she flicked on the lights and bathed the room in gold.
The Shinra storage rooms were in the basement floor, and they had been built directly into the metal plate that hung suspended above the slums. Inside the rooms were old artifacts, such as original mech prototypes, yellowing paper reports, and ancient jars and vials filled with useless samples. It was dust, cluttered, full of unwanted, forgotten things that had lost their purpose long ago.
Cissnei felt right at home amongst them. Her footsteps were quiet against the concrete floor as she made her way to the back of the room, where rows upon rows of boxes lined the sagging shelves. Names had been scratched into the boxes. Names that had belonged to either MIA or KIA Shinra operatives, and the boxes contained their old belongings – belongings that Shinra hadn't seen fit to send back home to their families.
She tried to ignore her quickening heart rate as she scanned the shelves, and it wasn't long before she came across the box that she had been looking for. This particular box was one of the older ones of the group. Its edges had been crumpled as if it had been dropped, its surface had dulled with age, and a fine layer of dust coated its cardboard. She made sure not to disturb the dust as her eyes flicked across its printed label:
Zackary Fair
SOLDIER First Class
KIA
That ache in her chest sharpened, almost painfully, so she tore her gaze away from the label and instead opened the box. But it was surprisingly empty. She had expected Fair to possess more… well, to be frank, junk. Yet all that was in the box were his Shinra-issued PHS and its charger, which she pocketed, as well as an old notebook and a few photographs. But the photographs themselves had yellowed and dulled with age, not to mention heavily stained with blood, and there was just no way to know who was in the images any longer.
With a faint, steadying exhale, one that disturbed the dust dancing through the room, Cissnei closed the box and pushed it back into its spot. She did so carefully, as not to provide any proof that she had been there at all, and then quickly exited the room. She double checked that everything was locked behind her. That she left no fingerprints, was not captured on any security camera, and that no one spared her a second glance as she walked back to the elevator and made her way to the lobby.
Yet when the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, Elena was standing directly outside.
Elena seemed surprised to see Cissnei... or at least, she was surprised at first. Then her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed into a thin line, clearly upset that she had been the one to run into her.
Cissnei met her sharp gaze.
They stared at each other, tension sparking between them.
And then, without another word, Cissnei stepped off the elevator, her strides confident and expression bland, betraying nothing of her internal emotions. Their shoulders brushed together as Cissnei strode past.
She could feel Elena's icy stare even after she had left the building, and she did not relax until she made it to the train station and had boarded the train heading to the slums.
But, when the doors slid shut and the train rumbled, groaning as it began moving along the tracks, she realized what her fifth regret was. And the realization startled her. Struck her cold.
Cold, because she just realized that she regretted joining the Turks at all. She wished that she had lived her life the way she had dreamed of as a child, instead of spending her short, twenty-one years being told what to do – ordered what to do, no matter how much she didn't want to, not matter how painful it was, no matter how much it hurt.
Her hands tightened around Zack's old PHS.
But I can fix this, she told herself. In fact, she would fix this. She would right every wrong she had committed - every wrong she had been ordered to commit, that she had been forced to obey.
And she would never, ever regret something again.
Some updates:
1) I'll now be updating Halcyon Days when I can, instead of publishing on a hard schedule. The deadlines were just becoming a little too hard to meet now that I'm writing two stories simultaneously (why did i do that, honestly) and getting this chapter done on time ended up being damn near impossible & not to mention a little stressful. BUT please don't worry - I will continue to update regularly until we reach the end (so about the same pace as we are now), just without the hard deadlines. I hope that's okay with everyone :)
2) Voting on Cloud's dress will close on September 14th - aka, you still have time to vote if you haven't done so already :)
Feel free to follow my twitter (Rand0mSmil3z) if you'd like to stay updated on my writing schedule and see chapter previews. Links to my ko-fi and other stories are there, too! :)
