"A flower does not think of competing to the flower next to it. It just blooms."—Zen Shin.
Aerith wasn't sure when she started to like pink and ribbons. Maybe when she heard her mother talking about how her late father used to dote his daughter in pink, or maybe when Ifalna gifted her a velvet green ribbon, or when Elmyra bought her a pink one. How Ifalna could buy a ribbon in the middle of Shinra captivity was beyond her, not that she had any opportunity to ask now anyway. Either way she remembered she was always fond of them.
She kept the worn out faded ribbons for the longest time, until some parts were torn and edges were frayed. For a few days, she was worried that she might lose the ribbon. Elmyra told her she needed to care for the ribbons for them to last long. She practically begged her adopted mother to teach her how, just so she could keep one of her final memento from her late mother—the ribbon, the materia and its knowledge.
Elmyra picked the ribbons to closely examine the material before telling the eager little kid. "You need to wash them by hands. Use gentle soap with as little water as possible. Then instead of squeezing the water out, just roll it in a towel to absorb the excess water. And then just steam it a bit with low heat. It'll help avoiding frays too."
Aerith did as she was told on habitual basis. But since Elmyra told her not to dry it under the sun, she had days when her hair was free of any ornaments. Truth be told, it made her feel naked. But the green ribbon was older, and no amount of care was able to preserve the soft velvety nature, and Aerith decided at one point to only use the pink ribbon instead. She loved pink after all.
She wasn't a demanding kid. Elmyra had done enough for her just by taking her in. She didn't want to burden Elmyra any further. And therefore instead of asking for pink dresses, she asked Elmyra for the cheapest. Instead of crying and complaining when she was bullied, she smiled. For the longest time, the only luxurious pink possession she owned was her precious ribbon. There really wasn't much Aerith would ask for anyway.
Perhaps Elmyra had always known her smiles weren't all of joy. So Elmyra occasionally would buy Aerith things she didn't even ask—dolls, crayons, dresses. But Aerith looked happiest when she saw flowers as they pass by the abandoned church at the outskirt of Sector 5 slums. How they could grow under the stuffy plate was beyond her, but Aerith was so excited asking her permission to go to the church to grow the flowers.
Elmyra decided they could use their garden to grow them—even though she was still pessimistic if flowers can even grow in Midgar, the church being an exception. Of course, she was proven wrong.
Aerith wasn't a difficult kid to take care of. She cleaned up after herself, she was cheerful and cute, and she learned new things very easily as evidence as how she quickly learnt how to take care of her ribbons.
As Aerith grew into a teenager, she learned the technique Elmyra taught her was called dry cleaning. She wasn't sure why it was called dry cleaning when it was clearly wet. Even if she didn't use water—she stopped using water as she grew older—, it was still wet with solvent. But she didn't care much about labelling names to it. As long as the ribbons lasted, then she'd take dry anytime. She barely used the green one anymore either.
As she hung the pink ribbon in her room—she needed to avoid sunlight it seemed—, she braided her hair with a plain hair sap before departing to the church. It was time for her to tend for the flowers there after tending to the ones at their garden. It had somehow been her routine for the past eight years—tend to their garden, then care for the flowers at the church, then volunteer at the Leaf Orphanage in the evening.
Except this time, it wasn't exactly routine when a guy literally fell down from the sky. He probably fell from the upper plate, and if it was any normal people, he probably should have died. But he didn't. Maybe because his fall was cushioned by the roof and the flower bed. Aerith wasn't entirely sure herself. But she woke him up anyway. He was charming and attractive. But Aerith wasn't the type who can easily be swept off her feet.
Of course, she was way ahead of herself about that.
When she chastised him regarding his carelessness with the flowers, he casually admitted; "Well, I guess I'm not normal."
Was he not? Because if anyone wasn't, then it should be her. But she didn't want to acknowledge that. She had grown up being aware that normalcy was more accepted than not. And yet this guy so casually professed to it as if it didn't bother him.
Does that mean he wouldn't mind her peculiarities?
"You don't see a lot of flowers around Midgar. They're like luxury items around here."
Aerith wondered when exactly was the last time someone actually took interest in her hobby aside from Elmyra. Did anyone ever did? She couldn't remember. She couldn't help but smiled when Zack addressed the buds and blooms around them. "They only grow here. Although I planted some outside my house too."
"If I were you, I'd sell them. Midgar's full of flowers, your wallet's full of money!" His enthusiasm was palpable. He was dead serious too, with the flower wagon and all. Aerith almost laughed at it until her mind reconsidered his suggestion. What would she buy if she had her wallet full of money?
She could at least think of one thing.
Pink ribbon.
The thought of being able to buy pink ribbon she had been dreaming of at the marketplace without giving any financial burden to Elmyra had elated Aerith. He gave her an idea she never really thought of, but not unwelcome either.
When they reached the central slums, she unknowingly admitted to herself not being normal for not wanting to see the sky. It was a passing remark, but it was also the moment of truth for her. And surprisingly, he urged her to talk about it. He didn't pull back. He didn't turn down her eccentricities.
"Normal is overrated," he said.
She was totally swept off her feet.
He generously bought her a rose perfume, and she knew then it was mutual. As they walked around the central slums marketplace when they reached the shop selling the pink ribbon she had so long wished for. It resembled the one she had. And it would be nice to have another one to wear on days like this when her mother's was drying. Or maybe she could wear them together.
"You really like this store, huh?" Zack's voice fished her thought out. It was amazing how attentive he was to her—something she wasn't used to growing up. She was used to being shunned, being left alone without so much as a backward glance.
Zack was one in a million kind.
"I'll buy you something," he offered, as if the earlier perfume wasn't 'something' enough.
Apparently, he didn't take no for an answer. So he wanted him to just buy anything, as per her habit with Elmyra. Until he made it clear she should pick whichever item she wanted. She compelled, and for the first time, she gave in to her want—the pink ribbon.
Elmyra was surprised to see the new ribbon—and a bottle of rose-scented perfume. A gift, Aerith said. But from who?
"A new friend," Aerith's cheeks were dusted in pink as she answered.
Elmyra hummed at her answer, folding her arms on her chest as she observed her adopted daughter. She had raised Aerith for eight years, it really wasn't that hard to notice changes in her. She was a beautiful fifteen-year-old girl. She didn't have many friends growing up. It didn't really occur in Elmyra that she would experience the taste of love this early. "I hope this new friend treat you well enough."
Aerith nodded in enthusiasm, fingers ghosting over her new ribbon fondly. "He's really, really nice and kind."
"And I bet he's handsome too," Elmyra grinned teasingly, laughing when Aerith bashfully giggled in embarassment.
A girl in love somehow looked even more beautiful.
Zack visited Aerith at the church often—sometimes they tended to the flowers together, sometimes they ate lunch, sometimes they just sat together talking about nothing. Zack was always careful around her flowers, a good change that softened her heart more. She mattered. One day Zack was combing her hair, running his fingers along her wavy hair delicately before tracing down the side of her neck. "You have beautiful skin," he whispered.
"Like my mother's," Aerith leaned in.
"Elmyra?"
"My real mother," Aerith corrected him. "She bought me my first ribbon. My adopted mother Elmyra bought me the pink one."
"They have great taste. Pink suits you," Zack complimented, slowly parting her hairs to start braiding them.
"You think so? Why?" Aerith wondered if she should start selling the flowers so she could start buying pink. But she also wondered if it would be weird for her to suddenly turn her wardrobe into pinkish hue.
"It's stunning," his fingers were occasionally massaging her scalp while braiding, giving her some relaxation effect in his lap. "Not just the skin tone. Just... You being you. You glowed even more in it."
Aerith hummed playfully before turning slightly, reaching for his PHS in the pocket of his pants. "Let me borrow this and I'll look for the answer for you," her fingers unlocked his PHS expertly, opening the phone browser to search for pink.
"What are you looking for?" he asked perplexed, even though his hands didn't really stop working her hair.
"You said just me being pink. I wonder if it has any meaning to it," Aerith's eyes were focused on the screen, lips pursing in concentration.
Zack couldn't help the small smile appearing on his lips at how cute she looked like that. "It has meaning?"
"Everything has meaning, Zack," Aerith chuckled. "Do you know the yellow lilies symbolises reunion? It's my favourite flower. And I think it suits me."
He wondered if she meant she longed for a reunion with her late parents. She didn't complain about her life, but Zack knew by the amount of time she talked to him that she would want to see them again.
"Oh, here it is!" Aerith cheered, tilting the device slightly towards him so that he can also see the screen. "Pink symbolises compassion, love, playfulness. It give the effect of calming, comforting, nurturing, empathy."
Zack's eyes glanced at the text she showed, finishing his final touch in braiding her hair with a smile. He tied both ribbons on her hair—the one her mother gave, and the one he bought for her—, before snaking his arms around her waist, whispering into her ears. "Yep, suits you a lot. As I expected."
It was super cheesy of him. But Aerith was elated. So much so she couldn't help the blush dusting her cheeks. "It says here that pink takes all the passion and energy of red and tempers it with purity of white to give the colour of tenderness and affection."
Zack looked up to her before shaking his head. "I didn't even know all these colours and flowers have meanings. Who exactly had the right to determine what they say anyway?"
"Actually, they told me their own meanings themselves. The planet told me," Aerith frowned, glaring at him for his scepticism.
"Really now?"
"You don't believe me?" Aerith asked, her tone partly hesitant and challenging.
He was quiet for a while and Aerith was worried he might start to find her weird after all these months. But he simply shrugged. "I do actually. I just thought that the fact that you know them that well just made you a perfect florist." He paused for a while in contemplation before adding, "And I think red suits you well too."
Passion and energy. The colour of vitality and confidence. She loved how Zack saw her. She loved herself when she was with him too.
"Hey, let's start our project. Operation: Midgar's full of flowers, wallet's full of money."
He laughed at the oddity of her phrasing it. "Soon. Let's make that flower wagon together."
They did. Three of them in fact—they had fun. And when he made that promise for her to wear pink every time they meet, Aerith wondered if he had always known she wanted to. As he departed to Nibelheim, she secretly planned to make a surprise for him. She would sell the flowers and buy some pink dresses. And then she would show him how much he had given her strength and confidence. It amazed her how well he knew her in the span of 18 months they were together. And she was finally convinced this was the guy she would want to spend her life with. And so she left the explicit message in her note, just so he knew how she really felt. And hopefully when he returned seeing her in pink, he'll know. He would, because he was always attentive to her.
But he never return.
The flowers were selling well, surprisingly. It didn't go too well initially. But Midgar was warming up to the idea of fresh flowers, and lovers started to gift them to their significant others. She was excited, using the profit to buy her first pink dress paired with a red bolero jacket. Some people teased her how she was having this image change. She just laughed it off. Their promise was a personal secret to her. And she hoped he would like it as much as she did.
But he never returned. He never even answered her call, or replied her letters. As time went by, she had become more accustomed to the pink colour. She blended well with the icon and sooner no one really questioned her choice. Except Elmyra, who always happened to know how much her heart was yearning for that promise. What once was a topic to tease and dote on her, had become something Elmyra disdained. Because while she still smiled outside, she had started to secretly cry in her room.
A girl's first love was cute. A girl's first heartbreak was excruciating.
She continued to wear pink though. Deep down she hoped that he would unanticipatedly surprise her by appearing in her church. But of course, it never happened. Five years and not a single news from him. Until she met another SOLDIER while selling her flowers. He was just like any other SOLDIERs, except he had Zack's sword. She couldn't help but called out to him.
It was even more jarring when he fell down the roof of her church. Fate gave her a second chance to find out about Zack. She wasn't about to just let it go. Unfortunately, there was nothing. Cloud didn't know Zack. Five years and still nothing. And her last hope was lost. She needed to move on.
And when she saw Cloud chasing after Tifa heading towards Don Corneo, Aerith decided tagging along would be a good idea.
She lost her chance at love. She wasn't about to let them lose theirs.
When they won the Corneo Colosseum Battle, Aerith looked around the dresses Madam M had for her. The pink dresses caught her eyes. Zack would probably love it if she wear it for their date. He always said pink suited her. She could put on makeup, looking more feminine and adult. She never truly did that, didn't she? Granted, Zack loved her despite covered in dirt and flower petals. He loved her despite not being all dressed up. He'd love her in all these pink dresses as well.
But Madam M seemed to think the red dress would make her look even more alluring, even though she personally thought it wasn't a suitable dress to fight in. Still, the dress dolled her up pretty nice.
The comforting, compassion and playfulness in pink.
The vitality, passion and confidence in red.
In all truthfulness, she loved the Aerith she saw in red and pink. It was inherent, ineffaceable. Zack might not have the chance to see her in any. Nevertheless, Zack brought out the best in her. And she was forever thankful to him for that. He saw through the shades of her, the colour of her heart.
This was her.
This was Aerith Gainsborough.
