Happy Friday! I hope everyone has had a safe and wonderful week!

Well... if you've read the chapter title and have read the snippets I post on my twitter (Rand0mSmil3z), then you know what's coming lololol
Also, huge thank you to silverd-doe287 for being the best beta reader!

Enjoy the chapter~


Wall Market became a different world after the sun had gone down.

Eager shouts blanketed the once-quiet streets, and the muggy air was choked with the scent of fried food, alcohol, and sweat. Paper lanterns dyed the bustling road shades of red and orange. Neon signs flared above open doorways. Strung lights swayed in the hot, dusty breeze, and bodies clogged the main road as they pushed past each other, their skin clammy beneath scanty clothes, as the promise of an unforgettable night was sung – again and again and again – from nearly every building that lined the road.

Zack averted his gaze from the crowd, choosing instead to lead Aerith and Cloud through a quiet alleyway. The alley was thin and disgusting, as all side-streets in the infamous Wall Market were, and he wrinkled his noise at heavy scent of bile and booze. The air even tasted sour, but he ignored it because it was far safer here than on the main road. Here, they could hide in the shadows. They could slip undetected between the buildings. No one would question who they were, there was no one trying to start a conversation, and unlike the main road, no one was trying to grab their attention.

Not to mention that Reno and Rude would have a harder time finding them in the convoluted alleyways than in the middle of the street.

Call it paranoia or call it old habits dying hard, but Zack was constantly looking over his shoulder for a shock of red hair or a midnight-dark pair of sunglasses. His fingers itched to hold his sword. His body screamed at him to find somewhere to hunker down until the danger passed, but those instincts were forged under SOLDIER training and refined over his recent year on the open road. Those instincts had worked then, but they didn't work here. Here, there was no hiding, no finding a cave and lying low for a day or two or five, no waiting for the danger to pass, because it wouldn't. The Turks had never stopped searching for him and, given recent events, probably would never stop.

Besides… maybe it was time to stop hiding.

The thought singed Zack's nerves and he jerked his gaze away from the mouth of the alley, away from the sea of bodies flooded just beyond its dark walls, and tried to focus on what was directly in front of him… but it was easier said than done. His ears rang with adrenaline. His mouth tasted like metal. Something twisted within him like a dagger, stung him like a thousand bullets finding their mark, and he had the sudden urge to start running.

Zack shook his head, as if to clear it. Need a distraction, he knew, and he eventually asked, "How are you doing, Spikey?"

There was a huff of breath, followed by a very firm, "Fine."

It was a lie; Zack knew not just because Cloud's voice lifted the last few letters higher, or because his mako-stained eyes – which were now glowing hot and bright – dipped towards his feet. Over the course of their walk, his stride was becoming more off-centered, and his high-heeled shoes clacked against the concrete in an off-beat tune. His breathing was shallow and quick. His fingers were tightly wrapped around the heavy, generous silks of his blue skirts, and it was clear by his lightly trembling hands that he was rapidly growing tired of holding them.

Yet Cloud's stubborn streak had reached an all-time high, and any attempt to help him was met with scathing looks and pursed, glossy lips.

"How about we take a quick rest?" Aerith offered when they encountered some semi-clean, stacked boxes resting against a wall. "Right here would be perfect."

Cloud's hands tightened around his skirts. "I'm fine."

"Well, what about me?" Zack slowed his stride so that he walked beside Cloud, and yet the younger blond refused to look at him. "What if I need a break?"

"Please," he replied, his tone accusing. "You don't… don't need a break."

"Maybe I want a break."

"But you… you don't." Cloud spoke with the slightest of stutters as he glared at Zack, but then he suddenly winced – a subtle movement – and his gaze dropped to the ground. His mascara-heavy lashes cut shadows across his flushed cheeks. "I'm fine," he said again in a low murmur. "Just hate… these shoes."

Aerith winced in sympathy. "Heels suck, don't they?" she said, which was met with a noncommittal shrug. "Do you have blisters on the sides of your feet?" she continued. "Or on your heel?"

His grip tightened on his skirts. "I'm – I'm fine."

"Cloud."

His flush deepened. "Um…" He glanced the other way. "Nowhere."

"Show me?" Aerith asked, and when Cloud shook his head in a firm no, she placed her hands on her hips. "Cloud."

"Let's fix the shoes back at Madam M's place," Zack cut in, if only to spare Cloud from Aerith's interrogation. "We don't have anything to use for bandages anyway, and we're almost there. Not to mention that you probably don't want to go barefoot right now," he added with a wry grin. "Kinda nasty."

Aerith wrinkled her nose. "That's true..."

"So Cloud, do you think you can make it until then?" Zack asked, and when Cloud's expression hardened and he nodded, Zack's smile softened. "Good," he replied, and turned back to Aerith. "Once we get to Madam M's place, I can buy some supplies -" potions, he meant, "- while you talk to Madam M? You have a better idea of what's happening anyway," he added when Aerith frowned.

She pursed her lips, clearly unhappy with this arrangement, but eventually sighed her agreement. "Let's just hurry. And Cloud," she added after a pause, "let me know if it gets too painful, okay?" Cloud made a low noise that could have meant anything, but she seemed to accept it regardless. "Good."

But as they continued heading deeper into the alley, Zack knew that it was more than a blistered heel that was bothering Cloud. The fact of the matter was that he had overdone it back at the Honeybee Inn; he had barely recovered from yesterday's relapse, and in a perfect world, he would be resting in bed now instead of wandering back alleys in one of the most dangerous parts of Wall Market.

And he'll need another potion soon, Zack mentally tacked on when he glanced at Cloud. And definitely some bandages too, depending on those damn shoes… He turned away and chewed on the end of his fingernail, a familiar unease twisting within him. There must be a pharmacy around here somewhere. Though I don't have any money…

but, he realized a half-beat later, I may have something a little better.

He reached into his pant pocket and traced the hard edge of the Turk contractor card. The ID would be worth a lot to some people, the same people who frequented Wall Market. He pursed his lips in thought; Maybe I could trade it in for some gil. How much though… five thousand, maybe? No, should probably ask for seven…

Cloud's suddenly stumbled when his heel caught on a crack in the alley, but Zack's hand snapped out and caught him with hardly a thought. "I got you," he said as Cloud regained his balance, but Cloud's movements were awkward, his expression distant and dazed, and his eyes were glowing far too brightly for Zack's tastes. Another lick of worry trilled through him, and he asked, "The heels again?"

After a pause Cloud nodded, without a sour look this time, and Zack exchanged a brief glance with Aerith. She immediately understood and quickened her pace; as Zack's grip on Cloud's too-thin forearm tightened a fraction, she looped her hand around Cloud's other arm to help further stabilize him.

"Maybe we should take a quick break," she offered again, mirroring her previous suggestion as they continued down the alley. It had meandered closer to the main road, and the smell of fried food and popcorn lingered heavily in the air. "It couldn't hurt."

Zack wordlessly agreed; after all, Cloud's condition seemed to be getting worse – rapidly. Maybe that dance had worn him out more than he had let on earlier, and Zack now cast him a quick glance. Cloud didn't notice; his attention was focused at the mouth of the alley, his mako-stained eyes pinned on a food stall…

And just like that, it all clicked.

"I'm starving," Zack loudly proclaimed to no one in particular "Cloud, you want anything?"

Cloud blinked as he processed the question, and then shrugged weakly in reply.

"Well, I'm hungry," Aerith declared. "And it's my treat, because," she added before Zack could get a word in, "I don't stand out nearly as much as you two do, and I'm the only one here with gil. Lesson one of living in the slums," she added, grinning as she held up a single finger. "Never leave the house without a little money."

Cloud cocked his head. "Why?" he asked flatly.

"Well, just in case you're mugged." She reached into the inner lining of her leather jacket and pulled out a small satchel, which jingled with a few coin. "But the trick is to always keep a little gil in your purse, and then you hide the rest in your shoe or something. That way if you're mugged, the mugger just takes your purse thinking that that's all you have, when it's actually not." She smiled at him. "Make sense?"

Cloud shrugged, unable – or unwilling – to determine if that made sense or not.

But as for Zack, he was horrified. "You really do that?" he asked. As he was in SOLDIER, no one had dared to mug him – anyone who tried was either shockingly stupid, shockingly brave, or a horrible combination of both. But to mug a young, pretty girl, however… "Have you… Have you been mugged?"

Aerith's smile went sharp. "Only once," she replied, and her words dropped into Zack like a stone. "But don't worry – I know how to take care of myself."

"I know you can, but like..." Zack sharply exhaled. "I mean, it's just that..."

"Zack, don't worry, okay?" She reached across Cloud to place a hand on his bare arm, and he could feel the heat of her palm against his skin. "I'll take care of everything. So let's just focus on the right now, okay? I'll buy us something to eat – just right over there, so you'll be able to see me the entire time – and then we'll head to the massage place with Madam M. And then once we get there," she continued, her fingers tightening around his arm, "we'll decide on what to do next. Okay?"

"We have to – have to save Tifa," Cloud cut in, his stammer urgent.

Aerith smiled at him. "And we will," she promised. "I'll just get some food real fast, okay? Can't save anyone on an empty stomach, after all!" Cloud blinked at her, his eyes burning bright, before nodding in agreement.

And with that, Aerith flashed the two boys a final, parting smile before making her way to the nearest food stall. Zack's sea glass eyes tracked her movement, and his heart rate quickened every time a group of people hid her from view. His boots tapped the ground. His fingers drummed against his crossed arms. Anxiety constricted and knotted within his chest; it pounded against his ribs and frantically fluttered about like a caged birth until he could taste metal in his mouth and tragedy in every thrumming heart beat.

"How you doing, Cloud?" he asked after a while, just to distract himself from the fact that his world was out of arms reach. "Doing okay?"

There was a pause as Cloud processed the question, but then he churned out a predictable, "Fine." He had found himself a cleaner box to sit on; now his legs dangled over its edge, and his hands were buried in the generous skirts over his lap. His eyes were heavy-lidded and glazed, though he was now watching Zack with unblinking, brilliantly luminous, mako-green eyes.

That stare was unnerving. It was unnerving and scary and wrong for several reasons, but Zack forced himself to hold that gaze and smile. He forced his shoulders to relax and his hands to unclench, because Aerith had told him not to treat Cloud like he was unwell and by the Titan that was exactly what he was going to do. Cloud might be lying through his teeth about how fine he was, but one day that wouldn't be the case. One day he'd be perfectly healthy – healthy and happy, if Zack had any say about it.

But in the meantime, they'd have to wade through this… whatever this was. Not to mention that they also had to avoid the Turks, avoid Hojo, avoid Shinra, find Don Corneo, save Tifa, and then somehow convince Aerith to leave the city with him…

Zack leaned against the wall with a loud sigh, one that had Cloud blinking. "This sucks."

"Sucks?" Cloud echoed.

"Pretty much." The box of letters felt heavy in Zack's hands and the Buster Sword, stuck between him and the wall, pressed uncomfortably on his back. Shifting his weight, he continued, "Like, what a messed-up day."

Cloud's expression dimmed slightly, and that was response enough.

"I just wish..." Zack traced the hard edges of the box with his fingers as the bitter words rested on his tongue. "I guess I just wish… that people would just leave us alone. I mean, what did we ever do to them, huh?" The box's thin clasp caught on his thumb, but he didn't notice the pinch, the pull, the stinging tug. "I mean, we joined Shinra to help people. We risked our lives to help them, to be a hero, to save the entire world. And instead… and instead, we got royally screwed, and..."

What am I saying?

He ran an impatient hand through his hair, heat singing his cheeks. "… And never mind," he bluntly finished. "Forget I said anything." What was he doing, ranting like this? That wasn't like him, not to mention that he was ranting to Cloud of all people – Cloud, who had more shit done to him and had gone through so much more than anyone ever deserved. Flashed him an apologetic grin, Zack said, "Sorry, Spikey. Got a little carried away there, huh?"

But Cloud only shook his head and, for the longest time, didn't reply. He simply balled his hands into his lap and hunched his shoulders, until the rich blue fabric of his dress swallowed him up in rich tule and silk. "I…" he murmured, in such a small voice that even Zack strained to hear him. "…I miss home."

Just like that, Zack's heart – which was already broken in more ways than one – cracked a little bit more, and he reached forward to place a hand on Cloud's shoulder. He could feel the heat of Cloud's skin through his palm, but also the sharp edges and hard dips of his still too-thin shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Zack murmured.

Surprise flickered through Cloud's sea glass eyes. "For… what?"

For everything, Zack nearly said.

But he couldn't get the words out; his throat painfully tightened until the words were like barbed wire inside of him. "Tell you what," he eventually managed to continue. "Once we leave Midgar, I'll take you to my parent's house. Like, it'll be hot and muggy all the time there, but Gongaga isn't too bad one you get used to it. And besides, my parents will love you! My mom can make you some of her Gaia-famous pineapple chicken, and you can have the spare bedroom! Which is lucky," he added with a dry chuckle, "because my bedroom is next to my parents' room, and my dad snores like he's a motorcycle."

Cloud lifted his gaze to blink up at him with his too-big, too bright eyes. Yet something else flickered in his sea-glass gaze, something other than mako poisoning or acute exhaustion.

Hope.

"Really?" His voice was small, bordering on shy. "You'd… do that?"

Zack managed a thin smile, because the fact that Cloud even had to ask further broke his already brittle heart. "Of course, buddy," he replied, and reached forward to lightly ruffle Cloud's hair – taking care not to damage his bow, of course. "We're brothers, right?"

Cloud's eyes went watery. "Right."

It wasn't long afterwards until Aerith returned with paper bags heavy in her hands. Grease stained the bottom of some of the bags, and judging by her fingers, she had already helped herself to their contents. "Back!" she called when she got closer. "Mission accomplished. And see?" she continued, her tone teasing. "No problem at all."

Zack managed a crooked grin as he stepped in front of Cloud, giving Cloud a moment to discretely wipe his eyes. "Guess so," he said. "What did you bring?"

"Teriyaki chicken and taiyaki." Aerith handed him one of the bags; skewered chicken dripping with rich teriyaki sauce made a mess of its interior, and the sweet, tangy smell had Zack's stomach grumbling. "And the taiyaki is pretty cute! Look," she added, pulling one out of the bag. "The bread is shaped like a fish!"

"What… do you have?" Cloud asked from behind Zack. His eyes were a bit red around the edges, but the makeup – not to mention the heavy mascara – did a good job of hiding it.

"Teriyaki chicken and a sweat bread called taiyaki." Aerith pulled out another one of breads to show him. "See? Cute, right?"

Cloud lightly frowned. "Is it good?"

"I think so! It has like… some sort of red bean paste middle? It's sweet though, if you want to try it!"

Cloud seemed to debate it for a moment before he inclined his head, and he took a small bite when Aerith passed him one of the fish-shaped breads. He took a larger bite soon after though, so Zack took it as meaning that he liked it. Zack, on the other hand, was happy to eat nothing but teriyaki chicken the rest of the night. And forever, possibly.

"And be careful of your lipstick, Cloud," Aerith piped up. "You gotta pull your lips back a little so you don't smear it, and only take small bites so it's easier."

Cloud's expression pinched. "I hate makeup," he muttered, though he did as he was instructed. "Why do – do people wear this?"

"Because it makes them look like a boss ass bitch," Aerith replied.

Zack choked on his chicken.

"Well," he managed, just as soon as he recovered, "should we keep going? The sooner we get to the massage place and get her approval or whatever, the sooner we can save Tifa."

And the sooner we can figure out the bounty on Cloud's head, he mentally tacked on. And get Cloud a potion, and bandages, and whatever else we need.

As soon as they polished off the rest of the food, they continued on their way. When Cloud slipped off of his box to continue walking, Zack immediately noticed that he seemed a little more stable on his heels, though his awkward gate hadn't quite faded entirely. There was also more color in his cheeks too, besides the blush, and he seemed a little more alert while he was walking.

They were all goods signs, absolutely. But Zack knew that what Cloud needed was a potion, and once again, his hands slipped into his pocket and traced the edges to his Turk ID. Potions were expensive – especially in the slums – but if traded his Turk ID for cash…

… It's an option, he decided, clenching his jaw. Besides, he had a feeling that if he passed through any identification checkpoint wearing his ID, he would get flagged immediately. And next time, he might not just get confined to the Honeybee Inn. Next time, it may be worse.

Like a lab.

A strange chill clung to him as he continued to guide Aerith and Cloud through the alleys, and it wasn't long before they came across the building that they had been looking for.

"Ol' Johnny's been had," muttered somebody near the entrance. Zack glanced over, onto see a man with shocking red hair and no shirt. He had his head buried in his hands. "She's a siren, I tell you..."

Zack arched an eyebrow and almost asked Aerith what was that guy's deal, but she only hissed, "Keep walking."

"Why?" Zack replied, his voice equally low. "You know him?"

She made a sour face. "Not really, and let's keep it that way."

Fair enough. Zack gave the strange man one last, wayward glance before they stepped in front of the massage parlor. Lights had been strung along its front and blinked cheerfully in the night, while paper lanterns spilled a warm, red glow across the entrance way. Ferns grew wild along the small path to the door. Small lanterns and jade vases marked the way, and the front door was decorated with stained glass and neon signs.

Aerith already began walking towards the door, Cloud quickly following with a faint sigh, but Zack paused. Across the street was a store labeled Magical Materia Shop – which was in itself shocking, as Zack had never expected a materia store in the slums – but if he knew one thing about materia shops, it was that they also tended to sell potions and ethers.

He also knew that the shops in Wall Market tended to be very loose with what they accepted as payment, and he had a Turk Contractor ID that he needed to get rid of. Just in case they could track him using it.

"I'll be right behind you guys," Zack said, taking a step away from the massage parlor. "I just need to -"

But before he could explain, Cloud's eyes flew wide. "Zack, no."

"Don't worry." He tried to smile, but even Aerith's expression had shifted into concern despite her earlier agreement. "I'll be right across the street, at the materia shop. They sell potions there," he added when Aerith's expression didn't change. "Maybe even some bandages, and I can trade my ID for stuff."

Aerith's brow furrowed. "Your ID?"

"I was using it when I worked for the Turks," he explained. "Back when… well, back when you went missing and when I was trying to find you." He glanced at Cloud with a small smile. "It was an I-help-you, you-help-me sort of situation. Though," he added with a dry chuckle, "I didn't really do much to help. Mostly I went missing and caused headaches."

Aerith managed a wane smile at that. "Sounds about right," she teased, but her heart wasn't in it, and her smile slipped a moment later. "Be back soon?"

Cloud's hands bunched in his skirts, something he didn't seem to realize that he was doing, and his lower lips was lifted in a pout. "I can… can go instead."

It was obvious that Cloud wasn't going to drop it, so Zack switched tactics. "Here, take care of this for me."

He thrust his box of letters into Cloud's arms, and the blond glanced down at it, his luminous eyes blinking at the box's plain wood. "What…?"

"It's letters," Zack explained. "Eighty-eight of them."

Aerith's lips formed a small o.

"And they're really important to me," Zack continued, flashing Aerith a gentle smile, before he turned his attention back to Cloud. "Keep it safe until I get back?"

Cloud blinked again, slower this time. "Oh… Okay."

Zack exhaled, and managed a thin smile. "Thanks, buddy."

"Eighty-eight letters, huh?" Aerith suddenly said. No longer did concern line her eyes, and worry was no longer etched across her features. Instead there was something else hidden in her expression, something that Zack couldn't quite identify. "Whoever wrote those to you must have liked you a lot."

Zack smiled crookedly. "Must have," he said, his tone vague. "I'll see you guys in a bit?"

"Sounds good," Aerith replied. "But… come right back, okay? No getting kidnapped by Turks this time."

If it was any other time, Zack might have laughed. But instead he only solemnly nodded and said, "I won't – I promise."

And when Aerith and Cloud entered the massage parlor – causing its small bell to chime hollowly across the road – Zack stepped across the street.

The entranceway to the materia store was far different than the one leading up to the massage parlor. For starters, the lights here were dim and flickered irregularly with the faulty, sparking circuits. The road was cracked and mud, slick with something unknown, was caked between the cracked pavement. The sign itself was small and dirty, but Zack did his best to ignore it as he stepped over the mud and into the store.

A bell chimed above him as he entered, and the door behind him groaned as it closed.

But something else groaned, too.

"Wha?" a man's voice wheezed, and even Zack – with his instantly-focusing eyes – hadn't seen the man sprawled out before him. The shop owner was lounged behind the counter, a thick pillow beneath his head and a stained blanket covering his lower half. A beard blurred his features, and his thick eyebrows nearly hid his eyes entirely from view. "A… A customer?"

"Something like that," Zack replied coolly. He did a once-over around the store; it certainly looked like a materia shop. Strange rocks, many of them glowing various shades of green and violet had been thrown haphazardly along the walls. Chunks of cloudy crystal were stacked on the floor and cluttered the shelves. There were even some weapons as well, and their sharp edges glinted from the many candles flickered in the dark space.

Making a decision, and already knowing that it was probably a poor one, Zack stepped up to the counter. "I need all the potions you have, a roll of bandages, plus an electric and a restore materia. And one thousand gil in change," he added as an afterthought.

The man arched a bushy eyebrow, which was a feat in of itself. It looked heavy. "Materia, you say?"

"That's right."

The man stared at him for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he slowly, almost painfully, sighed. "Fine, then. That'll be… seven thousand gil for all of it."

Zack just about choked. Seven… "How many potions do you have?" he managed to stammer. Twenty?

"Five," the man replied.

Only five… Zack just about sputtered. Is this guy high?

The shop keeper ran his fingers along his beard, clearly awaiting an answer.

But Zack played it cool. He pretended to think about it for a moment, before he said, "Listen. Seven thousand is a lot, but I can do you one better."

The man arched his eyebrow once again, a little higher now, and this time Zack thought he saw the glint of gray eyes from somewhere beneath the wiry hair.

Without another word, Zack reached into his pocket and pulled out his Turk Contractor ID. He hadn't wanted to show it off so early in their negotiations, but at this point, he didn't really have a choice. "You know what this is," Zack said, and prayed the man did.

Luckily, given the way the shop keeper's eyes lit up, he did. Maybe not entirely – Turk IDs were a rare thing, after all – but he did know that it was a Shinra-official ID, one that could get him to the upper plates.

"I'm going to be honest with you," Zack continued. "The people who gave it to me want it back, but," he quickly added before the excitement faded from the man's eyes, "it'll get you to the upper plate, no problem at all. That's what you want, right?"

Gods, he hoped that's what the shopkeeper wanted, but luckily his gamble payed off.

"Fuck, man," the shopkeeper breathed. "I -"

"So we'll both be doing each other a favor." Zack's expression hardened; now he was all SOLDIER, all business, and not at all the broken man that had traveled across the wastes for months. "You get to the upper plate no questions asked, and I get what I want. Deal?"

The man thickly swallowed. "This legit?"

"Hell yeah." Zack's eyes flared; he was rapidly losing his patience. Aerith and Cloud were waiting for him, after all. "Look at my eyes. SOLDIER-eyes, right?" The man paled, as if noticing for the first time, but Zack ignored the tang of fear in the air. He was used to it by now. "They don't give out these things to anybody but people like me."

"Why you wanna get rid of it, huh?" The man's Adam's apple bobbed as his eyes narrowed. "If you're SOLDIER, then you're just a Shinra mutt, yeah? Why betray them? What's in it for you, huh?"

Zack's expression darkened. "Because they screwed me over." His tone – the hard edge buried in every word, the storm laced through every syllable – left no room for argument. "The rest isn't your concern. So are you willing to trade for the ID, or what? Because," he added, his tone shifting into something darker, "I can just go to the shop next door and get this shit, too. You just happened to be the closest."

The man paled further. "All right, all right," he said. "Just give it here. Potions are to the right, and the materia is in the shelf beneath it. Bandages in the box by the door. And here," he added, shuffling a handful of golden coins across the counter, "is one thousand gil, in change. Per your agreement."

Zack swallowed his exhale, and kept his expression severe. "Excellent," he replied, and pocketing the gil, tossed the man the ID before he grabbed the rest. He attached the materia to his sword and shoved the potions into his pockets, before exiting and heading back to the massage parlor, his shoulders stiff and eyes flaring hot.

It was only when the muggy, sour-tasting air of Wall Market slapped him in the face that he released his pent breath.

Something finally went right.

It was a long time coming, and it lifted his mood as he crossed the road – after confirming that Reno and Rude weren't around, of course – and made his way back into the massage parlor.

The moment he opened the door, the scent of lilac and jasmine singed his nose. Gentle music reverberated from a small speaker in the corner, though the melody was nearly drowned out by a woman's sharp tone and Aerith's frustrated huffs. Murals of blooming flowers, their white petals overlapping each other in a way that reminded Zack of an onion, were etched into the walls while paper flowers decorated the front desk.

Cloud, who had been sitting on one of the chairs in the waiting room, had glanced towards the door with a startled expression… but his rigid tension melted the moment he realized who it was.

"Zack," he breathed.

Zack grinned. "Hey, Spikes," he replied as he reached into his pocket. "Brought you a little something."

"I kept your letters safe."

"Ah. Thanks, buddy." Zack tried to keep his expression neutral as he handed Cloud one of the potions from his pocket. "Drink all of that. And how's your head feeling?" He knelt down and removed one of Cloud's heels, which was more like a high-heeled boot than anything else. Sure enough, the back of his heel was an angry red and Zack suppressed a wince as he grabbed the roll of bandages. "It feeling fuzzy again?"

Cloud made a face, but whether from the bandages or the potion, it was impossible to tell. "A… A little."

Which was Cloud-speak for, a lot.

Zack's lips pitched into a frown. I guess he hasn't fully recovered from yesterday, he realized. And then with today's excitement…

"Well, you'll feel better as soon as you drink that," Zack promised as he slipped Cloud's boot on and then checked on the other – which was, thankfully, fine for the time being. Cloud nodded, utterly passive in his own treatment, and Zack managed another thin smile before turning to the commotion happening at the front desk, because Aerith was pissed.

And so, apparently, was the masseuse.

"Say another word and I'll shove this fan down your throat," the Madam M growled at Aerith from the front desk. She held her fan in front of her like a weapon, and the beads woven in with her headdress clinked together like rain when she turned her head with teeth bared.

Aerith seemed taken aback by the fan, but resolutely continued, "Excuse me, I -"

But she was cut off as Zack glided forward and, placing a hand on Aerith's shoulder, flashed Madam M one of his winning smiles. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

His puppy-face had always worked with Angeal – always – but this woman seemed to be immune, which was a solid blow to his pride. "Great," she said, huffing in a way that nearly had the loose material of her kimono slipping off of her shoulders. "Just great. Let me guess, all three of you -" she waved her fan in a vague circle, "- are together?"

"That's right." He attempted another dazzling smile, but Madam M only rolled her eyes. "We're trying to get approval for Corneo, and -"

"So I've been told." She dramatically sighed once again. "And because you're all young and stupid, I suppose that means that you think I'll let you off easy?"Zack blinked dumbly in response and she stepped out from behind the counter, the flat of her fan bounced against her palm as her shoes clicked across the floor. "So you want… what, exactly?" she continued, enunciating every syllable. "A favor?"

"… Depends."

"Well, here's the thing." Madam M slid in front of Zack, her fan bouncing all the while. "This is a massage parlor – a respectable establishment. But if you don't require our services," she continued, her voice dropped low, "then tell..."

But then she paused. Her lips flattened and she peered at Zack's face, who looked down at her a confused, half-hearted smile.

"Name," she ordered.

Zack blinked. "Uh, excuse me?"

"You're name!"

Madam M's voice pierced the air, and Zack just about winced. "Uh… Kevin."

Her gaze narrowed. "Kevin, huh?"

"That's right."

Aerith chuckled behind him, but manage to drown it in a cough when Madam M glared at her.

"Hm." Madam M's brow furrowed, as if she was debating something, but then her expression smoothed and she returned her attention to Zack. "Hand."

Zack blinked. "Huh?"

"Give it to me!" Next thing Zack knew, Madam M had his hand in her own. Her thumb dug into the tight flesh of his palm, and the leather of his gloves groaned beneath her ministrations.

"The strong, firm hands of a fighter," Madam M mused as her fingers kneaded his hand, "and yet they possess a certain… elegance and grace."

Zack grinned. "Hell yeah they do," he replied, which had Madam M scowling.

But then her expression slipped into something more… pleasant. "Okay, Kevin," she began, her lips curving at his obviously fake name. "Let's see what you're made of. And after that," she added, glancing back at Aerith as she sauntered to the back room, "we'll talk."

She clearly expected Zack to follow, which he did after a brief shrug at Aerith. "Watch Cloud for me?" he murmured as he placed his sword against the wall. "He's really… out of it."

Aerith nodded, and with that he dipped beneath an arched door and made his way down the hallway to a small back room, which was tucked in the corner.

A thick curtain, dyed scarlet and embroidered with flowers, divided the back room from the rest of the establishment. The scent of perfumed oils and floral lotions lingered in the air. Candlelight flickered in the warmly lit space. A small fountain bubbled in the corner, heated stones were stacked neatly against one of the walls, and in the middle of the room was a raised bed with a single cushion marking where the head went.

"Please," Madam M said as she guided Zack to the bed. "Make yourself comfortable."

Zack took a single step towards the bed, distinctly not comfortable. "What are you going to do?"

"Oh, an exclusive treatment," she easily replied, and the corner of her lips curved into a smile. "One that is reserved for only our most well-to-do patrons."

Zack wasn't sure if he liked the sound of that, but eventually he decided that it couldn't hurt. Besides, if it turned out she was a Shinra doctor or something, he could easily fight his way out. She didn't seem that strong.

And with that thought firmly in mind, he obediently lied down.

"First, the hand cream." Madam M's voice had taken on a silken quality, and she dipped her finger in a small jar and rubbed the milky lotion against her palms, lightly warming it before she gently lifted Zack's hand. She then pushed her slender fingers between his, and their warmth – no, their heat – flicked against his skin, burning him and chilling him all at once. Leaning forward, her robes slipped against her shoulders as she murmured, "A generous coating for each one of your richly deserving fingers..."

She lightly squeezed, pressing their palms flush together, and Zack shifted his gaze to the far wall as he thickly swallowed. "So let's begin," she continued, her voice low and husky, "with the tips."

The pressure against his palm eased as her fingers slid towards his fingertips, gently pushing and pressing all the while. Her hands smothered his in warmth. Her fingers teased the soft flesh between his knuckles, and he licked his lips as he shifted again.

Her lips curved into a smile. "That's it," she said, her voice a low hush. "Relax. I'm only trying to help."

Zack – against all his instincts – closed his eyes.

Her fingers slipped upward, once at his tips, now steadily moving towards their base. A noise slipped out of his throat when she pressed against a tender spot, and a low chuckle reverberated through the air. "Oh? Did that hurt?"

"No…" Zack said, before he could stop himself.

Madam M chuckled again, if that was exactly the answer she had been expecting. "Then I'll move on," she told him, in the same tone as saying she was only wearing satin, "to the base of the fingers..."

The beads in her headdress chimed and sang as she switched to a better position. There was a rustle of fabric, the hush of a moving stool, and then the sweet pressure returned to his aching palm. It was strange; he had never noticed how tight the muscles were, nor how they gently throbbed with tension.

But Madam M noticed. "Let's see if we can't improve your… circulation," she told him as she firmly grasped his tingling hand. "Get that blood flowing."

She pulled gently at something else, and then there was nothing but warmth. Faint noises bubbled from his throat, and he bit his lip to keep himself silent.

"Oh no, don't fight it," Madam M said. Zack cracked open his eyes to see her leaning over him, her eyes bright with mirth. "Stress is poison to the body."

Zack frowned, but closed his eyes once again and allowed her to finish… whatever she was doing to him.

"And finally," she continued, her voice low and sultry, "some gentle stimulation for the palm. Just..." her fingertips skimmed his forearm, "...like..." her fingers, deliciously warm, wrapped around his hand and lifted it, "...this."

And then her thumbs thrust into the soft flesh of his palm. Again, and again, and again, and Zack refused to acknowledge that the faint noises that snuck out between his bitten lips belonged to him. They couldn't. They didn't. They -

"Oh? What was that?" He could hear the laugh in Madam M's voice. "A cry of pleasure?"

Zack squeezed his eyes shut tighter, the heat of embarrassment rushing through him.

"Is this how you like it?" She pushed into him again and his throat tightened against another faint noise; he shifted against the table, his entire body tensing as her fingers worked his hands. "Or how about this?" Suddenly she moved to the left, just enough to hit something that was particularly sore, and there was no stopping Zack's little gasp. Madam M made a delighted sound at hearing it. "Or maybe this?"

And then Zack couldn't stop himself in time: He moaned, long and drawn out, as pleasure radiated from his palm.


Aerith was certain this was a bad idea. As Madam M practically dragged Zack away, she almost wished that she had stopped them and had offered to take his place, but they had turned the corner before she could say the words.

Now something like regret and another motion, something sharper and more bitter, ate away at her as she waited for Zack to return. The way Madam M had looked at Zack, the flutter of her lashes and her perfect little smirk when she decided to see 'what Zack was made out of'… Aerith's hands clenched against her thighs.

She hated this.

"Aerith?" Cloud's voice, a bit stronger than it had been a few minutes ago, snapped her out of her thoughts. "Are you okay?"

She blinked, a bit taken off guard, before managing a smile. "I should be asking you that," she teased, and then tilted her chin at the potion he was holding. It was mostly empty; faint green splashed against the sides, and the bottle's thin collar was smudged with pink lipstick. "Is the potion working? Feeling any better?"

"Y – Yeah." He shrugged, as if embarrassed by the fact. "I'm okay."

Well, he certainly sounded better. The harsh mako glow in his eyes had also dimmed a bit, and there was more color to his cheeks as well. When he turned to her, there was clarity in his expression.

Clarity… and confusion.

"What happened?" he asked after a pause.

"You don't remember?"

"Well..." He glanced down at the potion half buried in his generous skirt, and his brow was furrowed in concentration. "I remember the, ah..." His cheeks reddened, and he lightly coughed. "The, ah, Honeybee Inn. But everything else is a little fuzzy," he admitted. "Where are we, anyway?"

Aerith clasped her hands in her lap, almost like a prayer. "A massage parlor. To get an approval from Madam M," she explained.

Cloud nodded his understanding. "And Zack?"

Just like that, Aerith's mood soured. "Guess," she said bitterly, and jerked her head towards the back room. "Apparently, Madam M wants to see what he's made out of -" Cloud wrinkled his nose, "- and now she's giving him a hand massage. When she's done, she'll talk to us about approval."

"A hand massage," Cloud echoed.

Aerith harshly sighed. "Well, that's what she said she'd do."

There was a pause, then: "W – Wait." Cloud's eyes widened in alarm. "You… You don't mean..."

"Don't even say it, Cloud." Aerith's hands tightened on her lap, and she cast the back room an uncharacteristically dark glare. "I don't want to -"

A moan echoed through the waiting room without warning. The cry of pleasure was long, drawn out, and peaked at its conclusion before it immediately cascaded into another moan. They nearly overlapped. The sound bounced against the walls and slipped down Aerith's spine; it curled her toes, lifted the small hairs on the back of her neck, sent her heart raising and blood pressure spiking.

A semi-human squeak crawled out of her throat as she launched to her feed, eyes flashing and cheeks blazing. "He's – He's -"

Another moan spilled through waiting room and cut her off.

"Was that..." Cloud's stammering voice was so quiet that Aerith nearly missed it, and when she turned to him, his face was redder than she had ever seen him. "That, um, sounded like -"

"Don't say it!" Aerith pressed the back of her hand against her lips, so hard that the soft skin ground against her teeth. A part of her wanted to storm back there and give them both a piece of her mind, and yet – and yet –!

"I can't listen to this," she finally decided, and shot Cloud a look that could have peeled paint off of the walls. "Let's go."

Cloud got up so quickly that she thought that he'd stumble on his heels, but his balance was somehow perfect. "Where?" he asked, sounding a bit choked.

"Anywhere." She stomped to the door and grabbed the doorknob, so tightly that its metal dug into her palm. "Just as long as… shit."

"What?" Cloud stumbled towards her, his dress swishing and brushing about the floor. "What is it?"

She scanned the street, hoping that she was mistaken, but then she saw it again: a shock of bright-red hair that had to be Reno, and that meant that Rude wasn't too far behind. Worse, they seemed to be walking straight for the massage parlor.

Right towards them.

Aerith let go of the door handle as if it had burned her. "Hide," she hissed at Cloud, who only frowned in confusion. She then hurried behind the counter and quickly gestured at him to follow. He made a move to join her -

- but then his heeled boots caught the front of his dress. His eyes widened in surprise, and then he was falling; his eyes flared for a moment before his hand snapped out to catch the edge of the counter, slowing his descent, but his legs were trapped beneath the skirts. His knees clacked against the tile floor, and with a muttered curse he pushed himself back onto her feet.

"Cloud," she murmured as she extended a hand, meaning to help him hide.

But then he did something that she hadn't been expecting at all. His gaze met hers and he lifted a single finger to his lips, wordlessly asking her to be quiet, for her to trust him. Then he turned away.

Her own words – Don't treat him like he's unwell – tasted like bile on her tongue, but she forced herself behind the counter to hide. Wood pressed uncomfortably against the faint ridges of her spine, and she clapped her hands over her mouth to dampen her breathing.

The door jingled as it was opened, and Reno's voice immediately tore through the waiting room.

"You!" There was a rustle of fabric, then a stumble of heels clicking against the floor. "You're Rhodea's new dancer! I'm a huge fan, by the way. Just saw your first performance."

"Oh, um…" Cloud's voice was pitched unnaturally high, and Aerith pressed her lips together to stifle her laughter. "Th – Thank you."

"So like, how did you get the gig, huh? And why are you here? Getting a massage? Which one would you recommend?" Reno continued, his tirade seemingly endless.

There was another shift of fabric as Cloud took a step back, and she could hear faint clicks as he nervously picked at his nails. "Um, well, I – I just -"

There was a harsh sigh – Reno, Aerith knew – and then the Turk asked, "Ignore this idiot. We're looking for a man with shoulder-length black hair, slicked back, with a giant sword strapped to his back. He was supposed to join your dance but was declared missing." There was a lengthy pause. "Have you seen him?"

"I, um..." There was a faint thud as Cloud backed himself against the counter, and she could see the blue of his dress peek from behind the corner. "I haven't… Rhodea didn't mention anything like that."

Cloud sounded so sad about it too, so sincere, that even Aerith almost believed him.

There was a sniff, then: "Gods, Rude! You're making her cry!"

Aerith's eyes flew wide.

What?

Rude's response was frantic, and he took a hard step backwards. "I – I didn't mean to! Um, look, uh, miss… I didn't mean to offend, I just -"

"What the fuck are you two doing here?" came a new voice, and then Madam M swept into the waiting room like a storm. She didn't even glance at Aerith, huddled as she was beneath the front counter. "Are you bothering my esteemed customers?"

Rude made a noise low in his throat, one that sounded like either annoyance or appreciation. "N – No, I just asked her a question, and -"

"My apologies," Reno smoothly cut in. "My partner was being a dick, but I was hoping to ask -"

Madam M made a disgusted sound. "If you are not customers, then leave! You dare come in here and waste my time? Huh?! I should have you shot!" There was a thwap as her fan connected with something solid, followed by Reno's shrill yelp. "Let me tell you that while you Turks may run lose on the upper plates, but this is my establishment and I will not have you disturb it! Now out!"

There were loud footsteps and shuffling as the two Turks were forced out the door, followed by Reno's loud cursing and Rude's grunts, but then the door chimes sang together and silence descended on the waiting room once again.

Madam M loud sigh was the first to break the sudden peace. "Well," she began with a tired tone, "you can come out now."

Aerith jumped to her feet, momentarily forgetting that Madam M was there at all. "Cloud!" she cried, running over to the man in question. He turned to her, surprised… and completely dry-eyed, to her relief. "Are you okay?"

"Y – Yeah?" He sounded confused. "I'm fine?"

"But you sounded like – Were you crying?" Aerith sputtered.

Cloud's eyes widened a fraction, but then he laughed; a dry, nearly brittle, beautiful sound. "I was faking. Don't worry, I'm fine."

Aerith nearly asked Cloud where he learned to do that, but she decided to save it for another time; there were more important things right now. "Are you sure you're fine?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, then glanced towards the door. A shadow flickered across his expression. "They really thought I was a girl, though. Even up close."

Madam M blinked at him. "You're not?"

Color singed Cloud's cheeks. "No!"

"Oh." Madam M hid her growing smile behind her fan. "My apologies. Your costume is… very convincing."

Cloud glared at her and opened his mouth to say something, but then shook his head and sat back down. "Never mind," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Forget it. Say whatever you want; I don't care anymore."

"As long as that's okay with you, Miss Cloud," Aerith giggled.

Cloud looked towards the window, scowling and brow furrowed, and pointedly didn't reply.

A faint noise from the hallway drew Aerith's attention, and she turned to see Zack giving them all a confused look – but also a dreamy look,she also noted with a flash of anger

"Did I miss something?" he asked.

Aerith's earlier annoyance singed her veins, and she crossed her arms over her chest with a frown. "You tell me."

"What?" Concern now colored his tone. "What's wrong? What happened? ...And why are you looking at me like that?"

So he won't say anything, huh? She turned towards the window, her frown deepening. "No reason."

Madam M chuckled from behind her fan; but at what she found so amusing, Aerith couldn't say. "Well," the masseuse said, "as promised, let us discuss the terms of your approval." There was a teasing edge to her tone, one that had Aerith's mood souring "I will happily procure your gown, due to how – well, how do I put this? - how wonderful my client was."

Aerith's expression went stormy, and she turned to Madam M. "Excuse me?"

"Well – how do I put this? His hands were a joy to work with, and I look forward to working with them again… if my client so desires."

"His hands?" Aerith repeated.

"Well, yeah," Zack replied. Confusion decorated his tone. "Aerith, it was a hand massage… and Cloud, why are you so red?"

Cloud, who had been staring at the exchange, suddenly dropped his gaze and muttered something under his breath, something that Aerith couldn't hear.

Zack, on the other hand, suddenly look mortified. "I was loud?" he repeated, and then turned to Aerith with wide eyes. "Was I? What does that mean? What did I say?"

Aerith glared at him. "You didn't say anything," she said, and then stomped over to Cloud and sat directly beside him, legs crossed at the knees and arms crossed over her chest. "Think about what you've done for a minute."

"But I don't even know what I did!"

She turned towards the window. "Then think harder," she told him.

That was the end of that.


I hope you enjoy the chapter lololol I had far too much writing it!

This chapter was a bit on the slower/more humorous side, but we'll pick up the pace next chapter! This is Wall Market, after all - we all know what's coming ;)

Until next time: Stay well, stay safe, and I wish you all the best :)

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Feel free to follow my twitter (see links on my profile) if you'd like to stay updated on my writing schedule and see chapter previews! You can find a link to my ko-fi there & on my profile too if you'd like to support my work :) But there's absolutely no pressure to do so; if you're happy with the story, then I'm happy :)