August 13 - Nailed it? I know. Cloud's fashion.

"If you could see what I see, you'd be blinded by the colors

Yellow, red, and orange, and green, and at least a million others"


It's Sunday, and the tattoo parlor is closed on Sundays, which means all of his friends arrive unannounced at whatever time they feel like. The entire second floor of the building was Cloud's apartment, so there was plenty of space for them to hang out.

Aerith, Yuffie, Biggs, and his girlfriend, Jessie, are upstairs on the balcony getting the grill ready for another barbeque.

He's down in the shop area, blinds closed, door locked, and with Zack writhing and whining on his table.

"Ah!"

"Dude, you're crying out weird noises. Quit it."

"You didn't tell me it was going to be this painful!"

"I gave you two weeks to change your mind––"

"And you told me it was like an eight! You said my neck tattoo was going to be the worst, you liar!"

In typical Zack fashion, he chooses another painful area to get tattooed. When he first suggested that they both get matching neck tattoos to celebrate Cloud's year of apprenticeship, Cloud looked at him like he had lost his damn mind. But Zack had already paid Biggs to design a Sailor Junon wolf head that Cloud could tattoo on him, while Biggs took care of the matching wolf head on Cloud's neck. He made it clear that Cloud would be the one to do his first tattoo but that he also would get a matching one. Cloud was still barely recovering from the backpiece Evan had gifted him, so he wasn't that happy to get another tattoo so soon. But Zack, impatient as a puppy, kept pushing until he finally caved. He often felt like a co-parent with Aerith when it came to Zack's antics.

"Gah, you're stabbing me too hard, man! Hold up, wait for a second!"

"Wait a few more seconds so I can finish the color on this part."

"No! Nooooo!" Cloud sighs, taking his foot off the pedal as he moves away for Zack to get on his feet and start stretching side to side.

"Zack, it's one of the most sensitive parts of the body to get tattooed. Of course, it's going to hurt. Had you listened we could have done it on your bicep or thigh."

"You got your first tattoo on your ribs!"

"Because I was sixteen and making stupid placement choices. And I said it to convince you to move the placement because you could barely sit when you got your neck tattooed. Any place with all bones and little fat is going to hurt." And with Zack's insane metabolism and daily SOLDIER training, the man hardly had any fat on his body.

Cloud continues shading, trying to go even more softly. He'll have to continue to add layer upon layer to get the contrast as saturated as he needs it to be.

"Fucking hell! It hurts!"

"Shut up, man. This was your idea. I thought you would be tougher about it by now. Guess I was wrong."

"I'm ticklish, all right?! And you're stabbing me with needles, so the combination isn't pleasant!"

"Whatever." Minutes go by, and Zack simply can't stay still. Every five minutes, they pause for Zack to drink water, chew on some chocolate, head to the bathroom, and even do squats to release nervous energy. But he won't sit still. So he's going to suggest that they finish it in another session because Zack's in too much pain.

"Tell me a story, man!" Zack whimpers, laying his arm across his face and trying to remain as comfortable as possible. "Tell me about your mom."

Cloud pauses, a confused look across his face. "Why about my mom?"

"Well, it's fitting, right? I'm here getting my rib tattooed, and the first tattoo you got was your mom. Tell me about her." Cloud blinks. He's never really talked about his mom to anyone, just that she lives in Edge now after she retired from modeling and has her own clothing line.

He dips his needle into the black ink, touching upon some details he adds to the design. His mom, huh? There was too much about his mom that he can talk about...

"You know my mom used to model, right?" Zack nods, honing in on Cloud's words as he bites his lip and pinches the skin in between his brows.

"Well, she modeled for about seven years. And she was, is, a beautiful woman. Blonde` and big blue eyes. And she was born in Nibelheim, a total backwater country." Not that Zack needed to know that since he has traveled to Nibelheim before. But he would say anything to make sure Zack would sit still. "She was the daughter of a seamstress and textile merchant. So she grew up making clothes for the village. But she used to say she would go to the local taverns to swipe magazines and whatever books brought from the big cities from the market. So that she could try to create her own designs from the ones that she'd find on the pages. And because her mom died when she gave birth to her, she learned to do makeup on her own from all those fashion magazines. Even made her own makeup with kohl, fruits, and red powder from bricks.

"My grandfather, I never met him because he passed away before I was born, took her to Costa Del Sol on a trip to trade some textiles with the local merchants." Zack is now biting his thumb, but he's calmer now. No longer fidgeting, honing in on his words. "A model scout just so happened to be on vacation there when my mom arrived on the wagon. She was sixteen. He saw her and practically begged her to come back with him to Midgar to work with a prestigious photographer and fashion designer. Her father, initially, wasn't on board with her leaving to work in a far-off city. But he knew that there was nothing for her back in Nibelheim. The villagers deemed her unappealing for being more open-minded than many men and women in the village, too free-spirited, too thin to bear children. So he let her go, but he looked at her just before she boarded the boat and told her, 'You're never going to see me again.' But he never meant it maliciously or bitterly. Just simple truth. He was an elderly man with health issues, and he figured his daughter would need to work for a very long time, and it would be too late for them to see each other again. Of course, my mom promised to return to him. But he was right––that was the last time they ever talked face to face."

He wipes off ink of Zack's ribs and dips his needle into yellow ink. His friend groans but remains still.

"She was short by modeling standards, but the first fashion designer she ever worked with loved her, anyway. She modeled for the designer's new collection, and they named her The New Face in all of Midgar. The New Face, she told me, is a fresh model, who is very young and very beautiful, that is asked by all designers to be featured in their campaigns and walk the runways. New Faces succeed after a season, or their careers fall flat. Her career skyrocketed. Everyone wanted to work with her. She also broke the norm that models had to be tall. She was only 5'3", but it didn't matter.

"She met my dad when she was dating an advertising manager from Shinra's Marketing Team. There was a gala dinner, and she went in a black cocktail dress. She had gathered a lot of attention that night. All eyes were on her, including my dad. He was a SOLDIER Second Class, and all the SOLDIER Division was there that night as guests. She was bored out of her mind during the dinner, and so she went to the bar to get a drink. My dad, apparently, according to her, followed her from across the room and joined her. She said she took one look at him and, somehow, just knew who he was to her. They talked for two hours, and she left with him. That night, he took her on their first date. She didn't even leave a message for the advertising manager. They snuck out using one of Shinra's prototype motorcycles and just rode to different sectors across Midgar. They got engaged six months later. They traveled to Nibelheim together so he could meet my grandfather. She learned that he had passed away a few weeks prior."

"Your mom is a knockout, no disrespect," Zack says, slightly stretching his limbs as Cloud dips his needle into green ink. "But what about your dad?"

"Dad? He was an average joe. At least, that's what I think when I look at the pictures. Brown hair with Mako eyes. But, I guess any man would be plain if they stood alongside mom."

"How did he die?"

"He was on a mission in Nibelheim, on an excursion to a reactor hidden deep in the mountain. The bridge broke while he and the entire team were walking across it, and they all got separated. They only found my dad's dog tags, his helmet, and his sword. Never found his body. He just...vanished."

There wasn't much Cloud could speak about his father, and he knew it still pained his mom to talk about him, so he rarely asked questions about it. His father would always remain shrouded in mystery. But his mom…

"Mom was pregnant with me at the time. It was..hard for her. And she couldn't model anymore. She struggled for a very long time with depression, and she struggled financially, too. Model careers aren't always stable, and nobody was interested in hiring a pregnant woman. So she was alone for a very long time…."

This part of her story pained Cloud. A young widow with no one to rely on with a baby along the way, struggling with her physical health, mental health, and finances. Any other person would have fallen into absolute despair. But his mother...

"So, to cope, she started making clothes again. She took on a part-time job with a designer she had worked with before, serving as a seamstress and using scrap fabric to make clothes. She started making a career using recycled fabrics and textiles for making clothes. Now she has her own clothing line. Nothing like a big brand designer, but a successful semi-small business with her own shops across Midgar."

Zack softly smiles, eyes twinkling and gazing at the picture hanging on the wall behind Cloud. His mother's color photo from her modeling days is the only personal item in the studio. His mother is leaning against a white brick wall with the ocean behind her, hair long and in loose waves. She's wearing some sort of black textured fringe jacket with gold lapels at the shoulders. Her hands are in the pocket of high-waisted jeans. Thick blonde brows brushed neatly and raspberry-pink lip gloss. His mother never needed, still doesn't need, so much makeup. She is perfect.

It's the same photo he used for the tattoo on his rib cage. He scanned the photo and edited it on his computer to convert it to a black and white photo for the tattoo artist who gave him the tattoo.

"You're good-looking yourself," Zack says, smirking and eyebrows wagging at him. Cloud gives him a flat stare but says nothing. Yes, he knows he's attractive. Plenty of women, and men, have made that very clear. "How is it you didn't model, either? Didn't your mom ever try to make you model?"

"Oh, she wanted me to. I actually did some child modeling work at one point. Still, I was too shy or antisocial, so they did not offer me big contracts. Even in high school, I was scouted a lot. But I was never interested in modeling. Even if I knew I could make money from it, I knew it wasn't a lifelong career. I wanted to do art. I didn't care what I did with it. I just knew that art was something I wanted to do.

"And one day, I was walking home from school, and I went into a liquor store. I saw this tattoo magazine on the magazine rack, and I took it home with me. I saw all these models and tattoo artists covered head to toe in many styles and art forms. And I wanted that too. In the way that my mom dressed when she was a model and as a designer, I knew tattoos would be my own sense of fashion. So instead of modeling pieces of wearable art that I would take off at the end of the day, I decided I would dress in pieces of art that I will always get to live in every day."

Cloud removes his foot from the pedal, turning off the machine and setting it down. Zack opens his eyes, slightly worried at the pitiful face Cloud is likely making. "But I wanted to honor dad. Even if I never met him in my life, I wanted to make my mom proud and become his living legacy. I didn't want to fail anyone, and counselors were always telling me that an art career was just as unstable as a modeling career. So I put off an art career and trained and studied my ass off to get into SOLDIER. But... well, you know, I failed. Miserably." And pathetically.

Cloud sighs and rubs the aftercare solution onto Zack's finished tattoo. "You remember those months when I lived with you?" Cloud asks, his voice quieter and heart-clenching. Zack slowly nods, eyes softening. "I didn't want her to know about how hard I was struggling. After I failed the SOLDIER exams, I was trying to find work in tattooing. I worked odd jobs while looking for an apprenticeship, but I was miserable. Nobody was hiring for an apprentice. She knew I was struggling, but she didn't know to what extent. I…" He didn't know why he was talking about this. He didn't need to. But Zack was loyal. Anything he would share with him, he would tell no one else. Not even to Aerith.

"I-I didn't want to come back to her as a failure. Not after everything she went through to get herself ahead. I wanted to prove myself that I can push myself hard as well to be successful in life. As she did."

Zack groans as Cloud rubs another layer of ointment onto his skin. He stares at him for a moment, and Cloud raises his eyebrows when he says nothing. "I think this is the most I've ever gotten you to talk since I met you at Shinra."

Cloud slightly smirksas he points at the mirror. Zack rises from the table and makes his way to admire his new tattoo. A big grin spreads across his face, eyes lighting up and slightly jumping on his toes in excitement. "That's because my art speaks for me."

"Damn straight it does."

Across the entire expanse of his right rib cage, from right under his armpit down to his hipbone, is Zack's Buster Sword. Aerith's favorite flowers, stargazer lilies, wrap around the blade's tip and around the body. And to honor Angeal, Zack's mentor of SOLDIER, an angel wing spreads from the sword's hilt.

"You know," Zack starts as he looks at Cloud through the reflection. "I never thought you were a failure. Not once."

Cloud blinks, ducking his head as he rubs the back of his neck. Fuck, this is why he hates talking. It opens the door to conversations he's afraid of facing and acknowledging. This is why tattooing became the perfect language for him to speak without saying any words.

"It's not a simple thing to accept after failing so much."

"No, it isn't," Zack acknowledges, "So just accept now that you've got people who support you through thick and thin. I'll always be there for you."

Cloud can't say anything, won't say anything. So he nods, wrapping Zack's torso with plastic covering.

"After all, I am your one true love! I'm always bringing color into your life!"

Cloud glares at his friend and then smirks in mischief. "If that were true, you wouldn't have left me for Aerith. But you left me heartbroken."

"I always knew you loved me! But, hey, if all else fails and my time at SOLDIER gets cut short, us two studs can get into tattoo modeling. Us, two hot guys, sweating, slathered in oil, and covered head to toe in tattoos. We'll be on the cover of every tattoo magazine in Midgar!"

Cloud laughs, shaking his head at the image forming in his head.

"Not interested."