Splintered Dreams
"Chocobo Lure"
Chapter 21
When the group finished eating, they went to the small clothing shop across the street as Aerith suggested. During the course of their meal they decided to forgo waiting until morning before leaving. Travel would be easier in the dark, and everyone was rested, so a delay wasn't necessary.
It was a logical and sound decision, and it was good for all of them, Tifa thought. Sitting around thinking about everything was making her antsy—and she knew Barret wasn't much for "idle" either.
She settled on a pair of black shorts and a cross-back white shirt and immediately went to change.
She felt a bit better—more secure—in clothes that fit, and that helped improve her mood. She was still trembling with the aftereffects of her nightmare, and that bothered her. She was stronger than this, she silently chided herself as she tied her hair back in the leather cord Zack had gotten for her.
Or at least she needed to be stronger.
If she was going to go up against the real Sephiroth—again—she had better pull herself together and not be so shaken by the phantoms in her dream. She was different now. She wasn't some kid that would be tossed aside. Not this time. She grit her teeth and pulled the straps of her gloves tight, resolve hardening her expression.
Satisfied, she looked up into the mirror and caught a glimpse of Zack as he walked out from the back dressing room, absently tugging a deep blue shirt over his head, and her heart rolled over itself. She flushed, and immediately dropped her gaze, but the flexing abdomen was scorched into her brain, as were the scars marking him.
Bullets and blades, she knew, and felt inexplicably angry at the unknown strangers that inflicted pain on him. It was jarring, to feel her blood pounding beneath her skin and the need for violence sing in her head. She wanted to hurt the people that hurt him.
With his easy grin and effortless charm, it was easy to forget just how much violence and pain colored Zack. He didn't speak of the things in his past often, and that alone told her that whatever had happened after he'd been removed from the reactor—or maybe even before he'd ever gotten to Nibleheim—was horrific.
She remembered his clinical detachment at the instruments they'd seen in Hojo's Shin-Ra laboratory, but more than that, she recalled his pallor and the way his eyes got dark and distant. It was a look that was haunting in its distance, but even more so in its vulnerability.
She had wanted to comfort him then. Still did, if she was truthful, but she wasn't sure how close she could get without getting too close. As it was now, she was teetering on the edge of a thousand emotions where Zack was concerned and she never quite felt like she had her footing.
It was disconcerting...exciting...and terrifying.
And she didn't want to examine it, or herself, too closely. She was afraid of what she'd find.
"Hey." Warm; his fingers brushed her arm, snapping her to attention. She'd been so lost in her thoughts she hadn't seen him approaching.
With blue eyes clouded with concern, Zack inclined his head, studied her face. "Doing okay?"
"Oh..." She frowned, worked a finger between her brows and tried to reign in her scattered emotions. "Yeah, sure. I'm good. I think I just...need some air." She flashed him her patented smile.
And watched as it made no effect.
He knew her better, she realized with alarm mixed with comfort. He wasn't fooled by a sparkle of white and a cheeky head tilt.
"Tifa," his voice was soft and serious. "You can talk to me."
Undeterred, she angled her head, kept up her easy, reasonable smile, and added, "I know that, silly. It's just stuffy in here," before scooting past him and making her way towards the exit. She felt his eyes boring into her back with each step and fought the urge to speed up. Calm, cool, collected, she recited in her head.
Yeah, sure, Lockhart.
The little bell above the door chimed her exit and she let her breath out as the shop door closed behind her. The air outside was refreshing—taking on a hint of cool as the evening deepened—and it smelled so much cleaner than the air in Midgar—especially beneath the plate. Taking a deep breath, Tifa settled herself on the steps and let her head fall back, her gaze wandering up to blue velvet dotted with glimmering white.
The stars.
She loved the stars.
It'd been such a long time since she'd seen them—really seen them—and even years later, the watching beacons reminded her of Cloud.
The sky had been full of stars that night, she thought with a wistful sigh. She recalled staring up at endless night and feeling the subtle warmth of an arm close to hers, and eyes that were both anxious and determined when they rested on her.
Even as a child, Cloud had been so serious. He never took anything lightly, and it was so, so rare to see him smile. But he'd smiled that night, she recalled.
There had been blushing smiles and shy whispers and heartfelt promises. The night had been full of stars and dreams.
Potential that was ultimately lost and burnt out by madmen and fate.
Tifa closed her eyes against the pain in her heart.
"I never met the guy you spent so much of your time wishing for," Barret's deep cadence was unexpected, and it startled her from her memories. She opened her eyes and found his dark and serious. "But knowing you like I do, I imagine he was something pretty special."
"He was," she nodded and returned her eyes to the sky.
Barret eased himself down beside her. They sat in quiet for a few minutes before he asked, "How come you never told me about your hometown?"
She'd been expecting the question ever since Zack had told the group about Nibleheim. She had hoped to have a logical answer for him when the time came, but the truth was, she wasn't altogether sure why she'd never brought Nibleheim up to Barret before. He hated Shin-Ra just as much as she did, and she knew he would understand how she felt, but still, she hadn't talked about it. Hadn't opened up. Her answer, when it came, was hesitant. "I guess because if I didn't talk about it...then maybe...it would..." It would what?
"It would go away?" Barret prompted when she stalled.
"No," she shook her head slowly. When she turned to face him, she finally faced the real reason she hadn't mentioned Nibleheim before. "I never talked about it, because if I never dealt with it, then it would never heal. It would always be there—open, without closure." She ran her fingers through her ponytail, twisting the end in old habit. "I know it sounds stupid—and I-I...don't know. Maybe it is stupid—"
"No, it isn't," his rich baritone cut in—firm, but full of understanding. "If it didn't heal, then it would hurt; and if it hurts, then you have motive—a reason to fight."
She probably should have been startled by his perceptiveness, but she wasn't. If anyone understood the pain of old woulds, and keeping them open, it was Barret.
"But sometimes," he continued, in a far gentler voice than she'd ever heard him use before, "we become so content with the pain—so used to it—that it numbs us to everything else."
Something in his expression made her sit up straighter and her insides coil. He looked...lost...for a moment—far away. "Barret?" She touched his arm.
He shook his head, leaned back, and took them down another avenue of conversation. "You're an amazing woman, Teef."
"Thank you," she blushed.
"I'd like to think, that over the years I've been a friend to you."
"You have," she assured him quickly, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "And so much more. You've helped me become who I am. You kept me from being lost to slum life. I owe you so much."
"Bullshit! You don't owe me anything, and you damn well know it. But, I'd like to think that I did have a hand in shaping you, and that I did a good enough job that you'd be smart enough, and willing enough, to recognize an opportunity for happiness when it came."
Startled, Tifa felt her eyes widen.
"Life's a funny thing, y'know," Barret went on. " It's as much full of joy as it is pain."
"I'm not a big fan of pain."
"But that's life. Only the dead don't feel, and I ain't in no rush to be dead." He took a breath. "No one knows how their story is gonna unfold, and all we can do is try and live it the best way we know how. I've made a lot of mistakes in my life...some I can never make up for...but what I know now is that I've gotta do what's right. I gotta make sure my baby girl has a future."
He turned to face her. "Opportunities are few and far between thanks to Shin-Ra, and we gotta grab onto them with both hands. Life's short, Teef, and over far too soon for a lot of folks. I loved my Myrna...love her still, and I miss her every day, but I'd like to think she'd want me to be happy, if I get the chance. I'm betting your guy would feel the same." With those very poignant, yet no less confusing words, he got to his feet and, ignoring her very befuddled expression, kissed the crown of her head, in the exact same way she'd seen him do to Marlene a hundred times. He smiled down into her upturned face, and though it was quick, it was warm.
Then, with flourish, he opened the door to the shop and shouted in, "If you're done trying on dresses, Princess, let's go! You too, Aerith."
Tifa shook her head and watched him hop from the steps and march into the street, grumbling and glowering at every passerby. He was such a complicated and complex man, she thought with an affectionate smile. And never what anyone would expect from his burly, tattooed exterior.
She didn't know exactly what to make of his talk, and her emotions were still in a tangled mess, but one thing was clear—Barret was far more observant than she gave him credit for.
The door behind her chimed and the soft click of claw on wood announced Red's arrival, followed by soft clacks and dull thumps—Aerith and Zack, respectively.
"Just so he knows, that green dress was stunning on me," Zack informed them.
Casting him an amused glance over her shoulder, Tifa suggested they get going.
Zack nodded, immediately focusing on the task at hand. "It's a bit of a walk to where we're going. Anyone that needs to go to the bathroom should do it now. We leave in five." He glanced at the Inn. "I need to make a call."
The Innkeeper hovered closer than Zack liked, but since he had allowed Zack to use the phone for a long distance call, he refrained from telling the man to shove off—for now.
His mother answered on the first ring. "Hello?"
"Hey." Zack kept his voice neutral, and low—aware of the ears listening.
"Zack!" The relief in her voice made Zack feel like an asshole for not calling her sooner, but he hadn't dared risk it. Her voice was hushed and hurried, but still carried the indisputable "Mom" tone that demanded answers. "I won't ask where you are, or what you've managed to get yourself into, but just tell me you're okay."
"I'm okay."
A relieved breath on the other end. "And Tifa?"
"She's all right."
"Is she with you?"
"Yes."
"Good."
"Any visitors?" Zack asked, feigning nonchalance as he leaned against the front desk.
"Oh, the usual door to door salesmen. Dark suits, trying to sell me a bag of lies."
Zack chuckled. His Mom was a force to be reckoned with—and he knew very well she could and would hold her own—but he still worried. "I don't know when I can get to you," he told her, guilt gnawing at him.
"Don't worry about us," she scolded gently. "You take care of what you need to. Your father and I can manage. Whatever happens, I just want you safe, Zack."
"I know. I'll be in touch."
"Tell Tifa to take care."
"I will. Love you, Mom."
"We love you too."
He hung the phone up, his hand reluctant to leave the receiver. His parents had already lived through his "death" once, and he could only imagine how devastated they'd been four years ago when they'd been told he'd died in Nibleheim.
He remembered his mother's voice, accusing and hurt, when he'd called her from Bill's. Weak and bed-ridden, he'd barely managed to get the words out, and when he had, she'd been so angry.
"How dare you," she had seethed, "pretend to be my son! My son died, you heartless bastard." It was the first—and only time—Zack had ever heard his mother swear at him. It wasn't until Bill got on the phone and described Zack that his mother had started to believe.
It took a week's worth of phone calls and answering a hundred questions about his childhood before she'd fully accepted that she was talking to her baby. She had wanted him to go home right then, but he told her that he'd made a promise to a friend and that he had to keep it.
And his mother, being a woman of her word and strong convictions, had understood, and given him her support.
He wished he could do more for her and his father than yo-yo them around and fill their lives with Shin-Ra's duplicity and complications.
"All done with the phone?"
"Hm?" Zack blinked, removed his hand. "Yeah, finished. Thanks." He placed another few pieces of Gil on the counter and thanked Roemer for the stay.
Outside, Tifa met him on the porch. "How is she?"
"She's good. Worried, but good," he told her. "Says for you and me to watch our asses."
Eyebrows lifted. "Your mother said that?"
"Not in those exact words," he grinned, "but yeah."
Tifa smirked at him and it lightened her eyes. "I wouldn't have been all that surprised if she had," she told him in a conspiratorial murmur.
Zack chuckled. Truthfully, he wouldn't have been either. Looking around he spotted Barret and Red adjusting their gear and Aerith waiting near the welcome gate. "Is everyone ready?"
"Yeah." Tifa nodded. "So, where are we going?"
Taking her arm and leading her away from prying eyes and ears, Zack asked, "Ever been to a Chocobo farm?"
The group arrived at Chocobo Bill's just before sunrise, and Zack wasn't at all surprised to see that the farm was already up and active and exactly how he remembered it. Bill took pride in his routine and changed it rarely. Up at the crack of dawn, down with the sun. Been that way since his father's father ran the place—or so he'd told Zack—and Bill saw no point in changing what didn't need changing.
It was a philosophy Zack's own father would have appreciated.
Smoke spiraled from the chimney and the front pasture was dotted with a half dozen grazing chocobos and a few farmhands tossing feed. Dropping his pack onto the ground Zack sprinted up to the fence, searching for one particular bird... and there she was.
"Charlie!"
Bright yellow feathers bobbed and a garbled Wark! returned his greeting.
Zack climbed the the fence, reached a hand in to stroke against Charlie's plumage. "Hey, there," he cooed, grinning when her talons lifted and set back down a few times.
Zack imitated the gesture and she hopped in place, turning herself in a circle and whistling.
Zack laughed and followed suit.
"Is that fool dancin' with the damn bird?" He heard Barret demand.
"Jealous?" Zack countered, tossing the man a look over his shoulder.
"You're a special little kupo nut," Barret commented with a shake of his head.
"Oh, he's adorable!" Aerith's smile was wide as she approached the fence. "What's his name?"
"Charlie," Zack provided. "But he's a she."
As if sensing she was on display, Charlie preened and posed, emitting a series of long whistles and short barks.
"I can see why you like her," Tifa commented, moving up alongside Aerith. "She's a showoff... just like you."
"He-hey!" Zack shot her a narrow look. "You hear that Charlie? Tifa thinks we're show offs."
Charlie gave a loud wark and pranced off.
"Now you've gone and done it," Zack chided. "She's gonna be mad the rest of the day."
"Zack Fair! Do my eyes deceive me, or have you managed to wander your way back to the farm?"
"Betty!" Zack dropped down from the fence and moved to embrace the woman approaching them. Short, and petite to the point of tiny, Betty was Billy's wife and soon to be mother by the looks of it. A pile of blond ringlets was kept in semi-order by a red bandanna over a slender face. She returned Zack's hug with enthusiasm and backed up to take a look at all of them.
"And you brought friends."
Zack rubbed the back of his neck. He shouldn't feel like he was imposing—as it was Bill had more hands coming and going on his farm than the Inn in Kalm, but he still felt rude for just dropping in on them. "Uhm, yeah." He turned, made an open palm gesture towards the group. "Betty, these are some friends of mine. Big man over there is Barret, and that's Red, and this is Tifa and that's Aerith."
On Aerith's name Betty's eyes widened and her face broke into a huge grin. "As in the Aerith!? You found her?" Betty laughed, clapped Zack on the back. "The boy went on and on about you!" She told Aerith, ignoring the startled look on Zack's face. "He said he was determined to get to you, and look, he found you!"
Aerith shifted her weight from foot to foot, face bright red and her eyes darting from Zack to Betty and from their corners to Tifa. "I, uh...He found me, yes."
Betty punched Zack in the arm. "I'm so happy for you!"
"Uh...yeah." Zack glanced at Tifa who was busy pretending not to hear anything going on around her. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Well, shit.
"So what brings you here?" Betty asked, turning his attention away from stiff shoulders and an averted face.
"I need some chocobos," Zack told her. "Fast and strong."
"Ah," she nodded thoughtfully. "You'll find Billy and Bill both in the barn. Why don't you go discuss it with them. I'll show your friends around the farm while you catch up."
"Thanks."
"Come on," Betty shooed the remaining group towards the stables. "I'll show you the newest hatchlings."
Zack found Bill and his son Billy in the barn just as Betty said he would. Big Bill,as the workers called him, was busy listing off materials as Billy loaded them onto the flatbed of a pick-up truck.
"Need a hand?" Zack asked by way of greeting.
"Well, I'll be damned!" Bill flashed a grin, an instant sign of pleasure. "Hey, champ!"
"Hey." Zack clasped arms with the older man. "Billy," he inclined his head toward the younger farmer.
"Zack." Billy dropped a bundle of steel ties and wiped his hands on his pants before offering one to Zack. "How you been?"
Zack shook the outstretched hand. "Busy," he answered, intentionally vague.
"You in trouble?" Bill asked bluntly.
Zack blinked. "What makes you think that?"
"I know you." He set his list aside.
Zack scoffed.
"And your Mama called yesterday. Wanted to know if we'd heard from ya."
"Oh." Zack shrugged, sheepish. "I talked to her earlier," he informed them.
"Good. But that doesn't answer my question. You in trouble?"
"Yes."
Bill dragged his hands over his bristly, gray hair. "Anything we can do to help?"
"I need some chocobos."
"How many?"
No hesitation, Zack noted. None at all. He was in trouble and Bill was going to help. Just like that. It astounded him, sometimes, that there were still honest, good people in the world. "Four," he supplied.
"Anything else?"
Zack shook his head. "No. That's more than enough."
Bill nodded. "You're heading into the marshes I take it?"
"Yeah."
"I've got a couple of really fast birds. A little untamed, but they'll get you across the marsh without triggering the Zolom."
"I can't promise when I'll get them back to you, Bill."
"Don't worry about it." The older man waved a hand. "You know you're always welcome here, Zack, and anything we can do to help, we'll do. I'll give Chole a heads up and have him prepare the chocobos for you. When will you be heading out?"
"As soon as possible," Zack informed him. "I wish I had time to visit and catch up, but..." he let it trail, not wanting to involve Bill and his family anymore than he already was.
"Understood. I should probably mention there was another person headed towards the marshes. I spotted them this morning when I was getting my coffee. They didn't have a chocobo, so chances are the Zolom had them for a snack, but I have a feeling you may be interested in that piece of information."
Tension thrummed and coiled in Zack and caused his fingers to flex—itching to grab hold of his sword. "Black leather, long hair..."
"Mother of all swords," Billy tossed in. "Yeah. I saw him too. The birds went nuts, squawking and shrieking. I have never seen them do that. Woke me out of a dead sleep." Billy gave a shudder. "It was creepy."
"Yeah...creepy," Zack muttered. He shook off the tension and foreboding and straightened his shoulders. "I appreciate the help, Bill."
"No problem. I'll go get Chole. Gimme ten minutes." He turned to his son. "Billy, you finish up here."
"Sure." Billy gave a nod, resumed loading. "See you around, Zack."
Outside of the barn, Zack spotted Betty and Aerith talking on the porch. Red was stretched out atop a bale of hay and Barret had his head beneath the hood of a tractor, one of the farm hands pointing and explaining, but Tifa wasn't anywhere to be seen.
He sighed, wondering how much damage Betty's words had done. Things were complicated enough between them without misunderstandings, and he knew that though Betty's words were true—the situation had changed.
He needed to make sure Tifa understood that. He made his way to the women on the porch. "Where's Tifa?" he asked without preamble.
Aerith lifted her head and Zack thought he caught a glimpse of hurt in her green eyes, but she smiled and said, "In the stables," with her usual sunny demeanor.
Betty's eyes flickered between the two of them, confusion furrowing her brow, but Zack didn't bother trying to explain. He barely understood the situation was himself, and trying to put it into words for someone else was just...well, pointless.
"Thanks." He dropped over the railing and jogged to the stables.
The smell of hay and manure assaulted him when he entered, but it wasn't an altogether unpleasant aroma. It reminded him of heard work and rebuilding muscles, dancing birds and feeling alive again. Bill and his family had helped Zack through the darkest time in his life, and this place held special meaning for him.
He walked the main aisle in slow steps, not wanting to startle the birds—or Tifa—when he found her.
Her back was to him when he entered the last stall, and she was scratching the soft feathers beneath Charlie's beak, much to the oversized bird's satisfaction. She didn't turn to acknowledge him, but she was aware of him, Zack knew. It was evident in the subtle shift in her posture: the way her shoulders drew up—almost defensive—and the way her head cocked—ever so slightly—to the side, as though she was prepared to listen, despite herself.
When he didn't speak, she crooked her head a bit more over her shoulder, but he couldn't read her eyes, shadowed as they were in the play of light.
He lifted one hand in silent salute, but stayed rooted where he was and studied her expression from his position. Defiant...and maybe a little hurt.
He made an open-palm gesture towards the sky, visible through the openings of the stable ceiling. "Looks like it's going to be a good day for travel."
Tifa turned her gaze to the blue, let out a soft breath. "It is," she agreed. Her voice was cautious, but not completely unwelcoming. That was something, at least.
He cleared his throat. "Tifa."
The hand petting Charlie paused, earning a disgruntled wark, and Tifa tilted her head even more. "Zack," she countered, mimicking his serious tone, and he felt a smile tug at his lips.
"Look, about what Betty said earlier...about Aerith...I just wanted you to know that was...well, that I said all of that before..." Before what? Sector Seven? Before he'd found her? Before he realized he'd changed? Before he got tangled up in so many emotions he couldn't think straight? All of the above?
He ruffled the hair on the back of his head in agitation. Once upon a time, he'd had a silver tongue with women, he thought, hell, with everyone, really. Slick and smooth he could woo, coo and cajole anyone into just about anything...but not Tifa. Around her his words stalled and crumbled in his throat. With a self directed eye-roll, he sighed and shifted to lean one shoulder against the one of the beams. "Well, just before," he finished lamely.
Her face clouded, then cleared. "It's really none of my business." she said after a moment, nonchalant—dismissive.
And something inside of Zack snapped.
The palm of his hand slapped the wood so hard that hay and feathers plumed into the air. "Yes, it damn well is!"
She turned, clearly startled, her eyes wide. He met her look with a hard one of his own.
"Whether you want it to be or not, it is your business, Tifa. I am your business." He was reaching for her before he realized it and his hands closed around her upper arms, bracketing her—gentle, but secure. "Don't tell me you don't know that—don't feel that, because I won't believe it," he shook his head—wanted to shake her—and spoke with something akin to desperation.
"Zack—"
"I've tried to ignore it," he cut her off. "I've tried damn hard to, in fact, but I can't, and to be blunt—I won't anymore. I can't be the only one feeling this—this thing, this connection between us. I can't be. I'm not alone, here am I? Please tell me I'm not alone...not in this..." His voice faltered when she stood there shaking her head at him, denying his words, a look of near panic on her face.
His breath left him in a soft whoosh and his heart thudded painfully in his chest. He dropped his hands, prepared to turn around and swallow back everything he'd said if it took that look off her face, but then, she whispered, "You're not alone, Zack," and all of his intentions flew right out the window and he was pulling her back into his arms and slanting his mouth over hers.
It was a kiss that broke barriers, took breath and swayed senses. Hot and hard, Zack showed no mercy.
"This is crazy," she gasped into his mouth, her fingers curling against his shirt.
"You make me crazy," his voice rumbled slightly; warm and husky. And she did. All logic—what little he usually possessed—flew out the window the moment he touched her.
Like now, with her lips soft beneath his, the subtle flavor of her playing over his tongue as he dared to push and deepen the kiss. He let out a soft grunt when she accepted him, her eyes closing on a sigh.
His fingers sank into the rich thickness of her hair, palms cradled to her face as he slowed the kiss; lingering over the texture of her skin, savoring the taste of her lips, as he tried to show her how important she was, how much she meant to him. He angled his head, went deeper and that brought forth small sounds from her and threatened his already frayed control.
Too soon, however, she moved a step away, and put some space between them. He stopped her complete retreat with a the fleeting touch of his knuckles against her cheek.
Her face was flushed a bright red, but her eyes were steady and her voice didn't waver when she told him, "I feel the things you feel, too, Zack. I'd be lying to say otherwise, but that doesn't mean I'm ready for them. It's hard being with you." She rubbed her forehead, and frowned. "Sometimes... and sometimes, it's so easy...and I just...don't know."
Her look was so forlorn that it ate it him.
A frown worked its way over his lips, darkened his eyes. "I know, and I won't rush you, but that's all you get, Tifa, my word that I won't rush you. But I can't pretend anymore." He reached up, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering in the hollow there. "It's not fair to either of us."
"I can't pretend either…" She took a breath, squared her shoulders. "I'm not Aerith."
"And I'm not Cloud." She flinched on the name and he was reminded at how raw her heart still was. His tone was softer when he spoke again. "I can't replace him. I don't want to. I'm just me." He let his hand drop—reluctantly—and took a step back, gave her some breathing room. "And I'm as much of your business as you want me to be," he added.
"Zack...I..."
"Teef? You in here?" Barret rounded the stall corner, his dark eyes moving between the two of them. Immediately his posture straightened and he looked twice as large when he asked, "Everything okay?"
Tifa offered up a half smile, and nodded. "Yeah."
"We're heading out in ten," Zack told Barret. Then to both of them, "Bill spotted Sephiroth this morning. He was headed into the marshes."
"So, we're going in the right direction at least," Barret grumbled.
"If wanting to meet up with the world's deadliest SOLDIER is a direction you want to be heading in, then yeah, it's the right one."
"Ain't like we got a choice, right? We wanna keep the planet safe from Shin-Ra, then we gotta get to this guy before they do."
In the yard Chole had a quartet of chocobos ready for them. The birds were saddled, with packs of blankets and food—Just in case—Bill said, and refused payment.
Jaws set, faces determined, they strapped on weapons, shouldered their packs and mounted the birds. Barret, Zack and Tifa individually, and Aerith with Red behind her.
The chatter of birds and the scent of wildflowers made the mission they were about to embark on feel surreal. Out here in the lush green and blazing blue it was easy to forget the smog and violence, the smell of decay and rot of corruption.
Fingers strayed to the scars on his cheek and Zack was reminded that the corruption was never far away.
"Let's go." He stirred the reigns, urged his chocobo into a trot. The others followed, and once outside the gates they let the birds kick off full speed.
They had a madman to catch.
AN: Not much in terms of "action" but I thought Zack and Tifa needed some issues aired out in order for them to move forward realistically and progressively. I do hope I didn't bore you with any of this. 3 thank you in advance for reading, and as always, for those that take the time to review I can't thank you enough!!
Coming soon: The marshes are a dangerous place.