AN: This was my third entry for #ThankYouCloti2019.

Nov 17 Prompt: Starlit Nights|Colors.


It was really bright.

He covered his eyes with his arm and groaned. Was it supposed to be this bright this early?

Wait…

He glanced over at the alarm clock on his nightstand. It was just after eight am.

He shot up, scrambling out of the bed and toward the bathroom. I'm late!

It took him fifteen minutes to shower, get dressed (while still damp, so that was interesting), and grab a protein bar from the kitchen. He was out the door, sprinting down the hall, before he suddenly stopped, turned around, and ran back.

Just inside the doorway of his apartment was his bicycle.

Can't do my job without this.

He wheeled it out, threw his courier bag over his shoulder, double-checked to make sure he'd locked the door, and was off again.


This light is taking forever.

He'd been weaving in and out of traffic all morning, grateful for the freedom of a bike. He realized that he'd left his helmet but that wouldn't be a problem as long as he didn't crash. Or get hit. He could get a spare at work.

He'd almost ran this light (like he'd done the others), but a car got too eager and accelerated before their light changed. He decided to not push his luck and just wait.

He checked his watch. He had ten minutes to get to work, but he knew the remainder of his commute would take a little longer than that. He leaned forward on the bike and tensed as the intersecting cars stopped.

His light changed to the brighter gray, bottom position.

He sped off.


He made it with a minute to spare, though that last turn nearly sent him headfirst into a construction site.

"Strife!" his boss yelled.

Cid always seemed to know when he got to work.

Cloud jogged inside of the main office with his bike. The older man frowned.

"Why the hell is your bike in here?"

Cloud shook his head. "What are my stops today Cid?" he panted.

Cid took a long drag from a cigarette before snuffing it out in the half-full ashtray on his desk.

"They're all in your box, but they ain't sorted out. Get on with it!"

Cloud nodded. He knew to just go by the labels.

He leaned his bike on the wall near the entrance of the warehouse as he made his way to his cube. Once there, he leaned over and saw an assortment of parcels waiting for him, all in varying shades of gray.

He sighed as he began to sort through them on the nearby desk, arranging them by address. That would make his route more efficient.

"Hey! Cloud!"

He turned to another courier. She seemed to be running late too.

"Hey Yuffie."

She threw her things down on the desk. "Damn train! It's always so packed!"

He grunted in affirmation, reading another label and placing that box into a stack.

"Uh, Cloud?"

He looked up. She was pointing at the desk.

"Why don't you just sort them by color? You know, green packages for restaurants, blue ones for shops?"

"Easier this way." He wasn't necessarily lying, but how was he supposed to explain that he hadn't been able to see colors since he was fifteen? "Shouldn't you be checking in with Cid?"

She gulped. "Yeah, well, I figured I'd come check out my route first—"

"Kisaragi!"

"Yipe!"

Cloud smirked. "He's not in a good mood."

She stuck her tongue out at him before trudging off to their boss's office.

He sorted his remaining packages, fourteen in total, and stuffed as many as he could into the large satchel that went on his back. The rest he strapped into the oversized bag on the rear of his bike before grabbing a helmet.

This was going to be a long day.


She wiped the sweat from her brow as she washed. She'd been at this for an hour already.

The tavern was packed the night before. A big soccer game between rival colleges. Even though they were a small establishment, all of the larger bars were just as busy. They also didn't have barmaids as cute as she was – or so someone told her. And while she had to break up more than one heated exchange, at least her tips were good!

Luckily, there was still another hour before opening for lunch. She had plenty of time to finish the chores.

The owner walked in then, stopping in the back door when he noticed her at the sink.

"Tifa? What're ya doing here so early?"

She smiled brightly at him as she set the last dish aside. "Good morning Barret! Just wanted to finish these dishes from last night."

He sat a few bags down on the large counter. "You're the hardest worker I've ever had, you know that?"

Tifa hummed, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. "Need help putting those away?"

Barret shook his head. "I think you've done enough. You're not even supposed to be opening!"

"I know, but Jessie called. She's sick."

He grumbled, rubbing his chin. "I'll get someone else. You were here so late last night, I can't make you work this early!"

She put her hands on her hips. "It's fine Barret! Really it is."

He eyed her, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "How's this? You work half a shift, and I'll get someone in 'ere by the time lunch is over. You're off after that."

She nodded. "Deal."

"Alright." He pointed to the groceries. "Yellow ones go to the walk-in. I'll take care of the rest."

Tifa was already reaching toward them, but hesitated. Slowly, she peered inside a few of the bags and read some of the packagings. "You mean these with the wrapped up vegetables and meats?"

He nodded as he went back outside. "Yep!"

She breathed a sigh of relief. She could maneuver past the grayscale as long as she had labels.


Later that afternoon, Barret approached her behind the bar. She'd just finished serving lunch.

"Biggs is coming. Jessie's feeling better too. You can go home."

"Are you sure? I can stay—"

He held up a hand. "Deal's a deal. Get some sleep."

Tifa relented. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

She washed her hands in the kitchen before removing her apron. The back door opened.

"Hey Tifa!"

Jessie came in first, followed by Biggs. Tifa hugged them both.

"Thanks so much for covering for me this morning. I'll make it up to you, I promise!"

Tifa laughed. "It's okay!" She glanced between the two of them and lowered her voice. "Don't you think coming in together might be… obvious?"

Biggs's face contorted. "W-we just got here at the same time!"

Jessie giggled. "Don't worry about us. I know you're tired, so please get some rest okay?"

"Why is everyone fretting over me, I'm fine!" She grabbed her purse and made her way past them. "See you later!" she called out the door.

Once outside, however, Tifa leaned heavily against the back door for a moment.

At least I don't live too far away.

She turned the corner in a daze, not noticing the man and his bicycle that barreled toward her.

"Hey! Hey!"

He skidded to a halt right in front of her.

She blinked. "I'm so sorry I—"

As she looked up, she saw something she hadn't seen since she was fourteen.

A color.

Yellow, to be exact, poking out from under a gray helmet.

His hair…

He was staring at her with wide eyes. She was sure her face looked the same.

"Are you… are you okay?" he finally managed to say.

His eyes turned blue. She gasped.

People were watching them on the street, but she didn't pay them any mind. She only saw him. And the two colors that now flashed with him.

She was shaking, she realized. He got off of his bike and took her arm, leading her back into the alley and off of the street.

"I… I'm sorry," she breathed. She couldn't stop staring at him.

.

.

.

He couldn't look away from her either.

After she apologized, a deep red hue swam in her eyes. He almost thought the adrenaline was making him hallucinate. But it didn't go away. If anything, the color got richer the more she stared at him in shock.

He thought getting off the street would be best. He felt so bad for almost running her down.

She came out of nowhere!

He just wanted to make sure she was okay.

But then she spoke again, and her hair turned black.

Black.

He squeezed her arm. She flinched, and he let go.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to…"

She was shaking still, but her eyes, her red eyes, bore holes into him.

.

.

.

His skin was a little tan like he spent all day outside. There were faint freckles on his cheeks. She noticed his bags.

"Are you… are you a courier?"

He blinked. "Y-yeah?"

His shirt was white.

.

.

.

She wore a green blouse.

He gulped. He couldn't believe this was happening. He wanted nothing more than for her to just keep talking.

How do I get her to keep talking?

She licked her lips, but her eyelids drooped. She started to sag.

"Hey," he said as he caught her. "Are you okay?"

She nodded weakly.

.

.

.

Maybe she was working herself too hard. Maybe it was the adrenaline from almost getting ran over. Maybe it was the shock of seeing color for the first time in five years.

Maybe it was a combination of it all. Either way, her body couldn't handle it.

She leaned against him and he held her.

Joy bubbled in her throat as she noticed his black sneakers.

.

.

.

Oh no, she's starting to get hysterical.

Color seeped down her arms as she did. It drew him to another place.

To when he was a child, a girl he used to play with sometimes, her laughter echoing in a meadow.

A girl he made a promise to before moving away.

He gasped at the memory. She looked up at him with those same red eyes.

"What's… what's wrong?"

Her lips were pink.

"I think… I think I know you…"

.

.

.

She felt her eyes get bigger. His helmet was coated in navy blue.

The more color she saw, the more familiar he got. She remembered something from right before she lost her ability to see these brilliant hues.

"At least we'll be looking at the same stars, no matter where we are."

"I hate that I have to move… Hey Tifa?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll find you again one day."

"Will you promise me that?"

"Yeah. I promise."

She lifted a hand to her mouth. Things started to turn gray once he left, until months later, there was no more color in her life. She'd been devastated. First him, now this?

But… but was it really…?

He took his helmet off.

"Cloud?"

.

.

.

The world around him exploded.

The wall they were up against was beige.

The asphalt was gray, vivid, not the drab tone he'd been seeing for five years.

Her pants were dark blue.

Her boots were brown.

He turned. The building behind him was red brick, ivory cement between the pieces, a white overhang above the entrance on the street. A silver back door.

His breathing came in short bursts. He blinked rapidly, one hand still holding her but the other dropped his helmet and covered his face.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" she asked him again.

Cloud met her gaze and saw her. Really saw her. Seeing her as he'd seen her before – the one person that had made his life truly vibrant.

He held her by her shoulders, grinning stupidly, his eyes stinging. He almost couldn't contain himself.

"Tifa."

.

.

.

She shut her eyes, the sudden rush of colors almost blinding her.

When she opened them again, he was still staring at her, holding her, crying.

She reached out and feathered her fingers against his bangs, then touched his cheek.

She felt the tears welling in her eyes, but she giggled.

He pulled her into a hug. She grabbed his shirt in her fists, burying her face into his chest, her tears and laughter uncontrollable. He was shaking with his own.

After a few minutes, he held her out to look at her again, wiping his face.

"I'm sorry… I just…"

Tifa shook her head as she scrubbed the tears from her own cheeks. "It's okay. It's… I can't believe it's you." She looked down. "Oh no, I got your shirt all wet."

"Don't worry about it." He chuckled again. "Gaia, I can't believe I almost ran you over."

She tittered. "Well… you did promise you'd find me again. Maybe I should have made you say how."

He smiled at her. "I did promise, didn't I?" He glanced down at his watch and cursed. "I have to go… I'm behind on my route now…"

She frowned. "Oh… right, of course."

He didn't let go immediately and she was grateful.

"I'm so glad I found you," he said quietly.

"Me too."

He slowly retracted, his eyes lingering on her for a moment more before he picked up his helmet and turned back to his bike. As he threw his leg over the side, she reached out again.

"Wait!"

He looked back at her. "Yeah?"

"Are you busy tonight?"

"No. I get off around six, depending on how fast I take care of these." He patted the sack on the bicycle.

"Meet me here at nine? I want… I have to see you again."

She reveled in his bright, kind smile. "I'll see you then."

Their worlds were never dull again.