Author's note + disclaimer: I don't know... perhaps I should've placed a big SPOILERS ALERT tag from the beginning. In any case, if you haven't yet played the game and plan to, I apologize. Then again, I'm positive I'm not the first to dash anything.
Any crossovers were completely coincidental and unintended… Oh and yes, I completely wash my hands clean of any ownership of characters, events and anything else that does not belong to me in this fanFICTION.
[ IV ]
"Thank you, please, come again!" Tifa bowed off a customer and ignored the phone in the upper level to bid the man a farewell. The phone was ringing off its hook and she had only managed to grab it before the answering machine activated. "Strife Delivery Service - "
"Yo, Tifa. I need to speak with Cloud."
"He's unavailable at the moment. Care to leave a message?" She readied a pen and paper from atop the impeccably organized desk.
"No. I'll try again but if you see him before I do, tell him to call me," and with those words, the red-headed Turk disconnected the line.
Why was Reno looking for Cloud again? Did they find results to the Gold Saucer? Or was it a call to check out the prison?
As she pondered, the front door opened and closed audibly so she stepped back down the stairs. Vincent and Barret both crossed the room and took a seat at the bar where the previous customer had occupied. When Tifa appeared at the bottom of the steps, they exchanged salutations and she slid behind the counter.
"Anything to drink?"
Both men shook their heads.
"Where are the little ones?" she inquired, reaching for a terry cloth to wipe the counter.
"At Barret's. Nanaki and Yuffie are babysitting the bunch," Vincent nodded. "But I'm sure the only babysitter there would be Nanaki since Yuffie's turned into a child herself, with the board game they're playing."
Tifa raised an eyebrow. "What's with that board game?"
"You'd have ta play it to understand," Barret replied. "I feel like I've lost my little girl. To a stinkin' board game!"
Tifa smiled softly. "Let her enjoy it. There are few things in life that truly make us happy so finding something that made her happy is a good thing."
"Well, I'm not happy!"
At that, Tifa laughed aloud. "Oh, Barret, sooner or later, you're going to have to learn to let her go. Better start practicing!"
The man crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. "Not while I'm alive!"
Vincent, who had been sitting silently, placed a hand on Barret's shoulder briefly, then removed it. No one said a word after Vincent's condoling, but they all knew what was on his mind. As friends, the group knew the tale of a Shinra scientist named Lucrecia Cresecent, a young Turk's love for her and the ending that was not resolved favorably. It was worse knowing that the man who wreaked havoc among The Planet was none other than your beloved's son. Letting go was a huge task.
Tifa found herself lingering on the edge of sadness and sorrow when those memories resurfaced so before letting the whole atmosphere sink into them, she changed the topic at hand to something she figured a bit less distressing. "So, how'd it go for you guys? Any news on Reeve?"
Barret shook his head slowly. "Nothin'. I've been askin' 'round all morning in town an' no one's spotted Reeve's mug or the cat."
"Nothing here either," Vincent agreed. "I'm going to pay a visit to Midgard as soon as I finish up here."
Tifa cocked her head to the side. "Midgard?"
"He may be hiding there. I doubt the man wouldn't be privy to Shinra business some way or another," Vincent shrugged as if it were no big deal.
The trio fell into individual thought. Unwilling to let the air around them turn sour again, Tifa broke the silence. "I'll close the place up and head to Kalm as soon as I can."
Vincent nodded once and both him and Tifa side-glanced at the remaining man. Barret rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"I s'pose I have no other real option. I'll get more updates here, then head out ta Fort Condor, but..."
"We have babysitters, Barret. Don't worry," Tifa smiled at him.
"No, what I meant was, it'll take some time ta get there an' that could mean days..."
"Not if Cid flies you."
Barret did a quick turn to Vincent. All the forlornness that had devoured his features were now lit up in expectancy. "You're a freakin' genius, ol' white-face!"
Vincent stared hard at Barret. It'd been a long time since Barret called him that and he couldn't decide how to digest those words. Besides, when Barret had called him "white-face" once, it wasn't exactly a compliment. He wasn't sure if it was now either.
As if reading Vincent's inner dilemma, Tifa waved both hands defensively. "We'll take that comment as you unable to control your excitement."
"Damn straight! Imma go find that hide-an'-seeker an' I'll report if things change." With more gusto, Barret flew out the door with his phone in hand, dialing Cid's number.
Tifa grinned awkwardly at Vincent. "I think he was just happy."
Vincent grunted in reply, not having yet decided on the white-faced comment. "If you don't need anything from me, I'm headed out too. Call if anything comes up and I'll do the same."
"Let's start there," Chaos suggested, eyeing the vertically challenged chain-linked fence that once barred the outside world from Midgard's Sector 7.
Vincent caught a glimpse of a flattened barrier that had been trampled over one too many times. He imagined many people had come and gone through that fence, ignoring its purpose. An incomplete bridge was suspended in the towering distance. He couldn't tell if the bridge was left unfinished or if it was simply broken. He gazed into the calamity of Midgard and continued on foot, the gold metals of his shoes clinking eerily as he approached the dead city.
Were there still people living inside Midgard? He didn't know. He knew that there were homeless and burglars that roamed the different Sectors, but that was all. As he continued, not straying from the center of his path, he was met with a dead-end. This must be rubble from the plate and the surroundings that once was Sector 7, he thought.
Chaos suddenly stirred uneasily as Vincent's mind wondered at the sights before them. He perceived it as Chaos' reaction to the gruesome images in his imagination about the thousands of innocents smashed like grapes, forever buried under the plate, never to be given a proper goodbye. He never knew for sure who's brilliant idea it was to flatten an entire Sector but he knew for sure that Shinra was behind it in an effort to literally crush AVALANCHE.
Chaos paced around restlessly in his mind so Vincent shook off the images. There was a man-made hole at one of the far concrete walls big enough for an adult to crouch through.
"It might be a trap, you know, muggers and all," Chaos warned.
"What do you suggest?"
Chaos tapped an imaginary chin. "Use your abilities. We both know you're extremely agile."
At the comment, Vincent couldn't help but smirk. Being two sides of the same coin had its advantages and disadvantages. Without further ado, Vincent took three swift leaps upward and landed gracefully on top of more scraps. From atop that tall of a pile, he suddenly wasn't quite sure where to start. Then again, he hadn't really formulated a detailed plan other than to search the area.
He strolled along the heaps of unrecognizable metal and wood. There were sporadic areas where some people had built fires and some areas that seemed hiding spots for the nightfall.
"Probably the muggers," Chaos inputted.
Vincent ignored the comment and continued, analyzing his surroundings. It wasn't long before he came to a drop off and hopped down. It was shadowy down there, being surrounded by large structures of twisted steel.
"I don't think you'll find anyone this way. What exactly should we be keeping our eyes opened for?"
"Muggers," Vincent replied.
Chaos let out a roaring laughter that resounded in Vincent's mind like a beast coupled with a man's voice. "Good one, Vince. Good one."
"Alert me if anything looks or feels suspicious."
"Oh. Well, I'd hate say this but I've been meaning to tell you since we arrived that I felt something suspicious."
Vincent looked left and right at a four-way intersection. All directions, including where he stood, was cluttered with scraps. It felt like being lost in a jungle. "Like what?"
Chaos smiled inwardly. "Well, for one, there's been someone following us since we got here."
"Muggers?"
"Can we get over the mugger joke?" Chaos made a disgusted face.
"I wasn't joking. You were the one talking about muggers."
Vincent felt Chaos contemplate an idea before he let out. "I suppose if I say a tall man in a long, black trench and Masamune has been watching us, you'd know what to do."
"Sephiroth?" Vincent's guard shot up and he withdrew Cerberus from his side. All three barrels clicked into motion, readying themselves as he carefully surveyed his surroundings.
The demon within shrugged nonchalantly, mirroring his earlier response about Reeve. "Precisely."
It was early evening when Cloud arrived at the small fishing village below Junon. He dismounted and strolled Fenrir alongside as he wove his way around curious residents. The once tiny village was now twice the size he recalled. There was definitely more houses and with it, more people. It wasn't overcrowded or a bad thing, in fact, Cloud felt slightly amused at the sights. Even flowers had begun to bloom sporadically in patches of growing grass and the waters of Junon Beach were less filthy. From where he stood, he caught the faint flickering of fish scales below the water's surface. What a difference a few years with no Shinra authority could do, he thought with a shake of his head.
He then turned to his right. There had been a young girl named Priscilla that had helped him ascend to Junon back then. Does she still live there? He wasn't sure if he should greet her due to the strange obligation he felt she had toward him about marriage.
Pushing unpleasant pasts aside, Cloud rolled Fenrir onto the sliding elevator at the foot of Junon. Memories of the battle between Sister Ray and Sapphire Weapon filled his mind and with it, faint recollections of the destruction of Diamond Weapon. Cloud had never verbalized it but he had felt awful for the Weapons. It was in their nature to protect The Planet and dispose of what threatened it so part of him felt saddened at their deaths. He exited the elevator and stared at the vacant spot where the Sister Ray cannon once sat. It felt so long ago yet at the same time, it felt so terribly close.
Fenrir's loud motor was quickly drowned into an almost inaudible whisper as he rode into Junon's bustling streets. He was mildly surprised to see that the military city had grown much livelier than he remembered. Pedestrians, bikes and motorized vehicles alike were sharing the roads with a plethora of sounds fused into a steady noise.
He let loose an unenthused whistle. It was going to be either very hard to find any one person in that populous of a city, or easy, depending on the amount of information he'd come across. Cloud stopped the nearest pedestrian. He had to start somewhere.
"Excuse me, sir."
A man in a plain red shirt and jeans looked up from playing with his phone without verbally acknowledging Cloud.
"Have you seen a robotic talking cat with a large stuffed animal?" Wait, that sounded horrible.
The man blinked at the curious question and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "No..."
Great, Cloud thought, It did sound crazy. "How about a man in dark clothes and a goatee? Looks like he could be a Turk?"
"No." The man repeated. He pushed his way past Cloud and Fenrir, glancing at Cloud as he did so.
This was not going to be easy...
Failed attempts after failed attempts left Cloud feeling dejected. After several more unfavorable turnouts, Cloud spotted a street vendor who was merely people-watching behind his stall of fruits. The pot-bellied man was selling only one kind and Cloud noticed that they were large, odd looking apples that appeared to be purplish. Or rotting, he added pessimistically. He shut off Fenrir's engine and rolled the bike toward the stand.
"How about that, eh?" The man stood and waved his arms to display the fruits when Cloud approached. "They're genuine. All others are fake. Only 30,000 Gil an apple!"
"Isn't that a bit much for just apples?" He couldn't help but say it.
The man frowned lightly. "They're not just apples, son."
Someone stepped to Cloud's right, hovered a hand over the purple fruit but stopped. The person seemed to hesitate and turned to look at Cloud's profile. "They're Dumbapples."
"Dumbapples?" Cloud turned to face the stranger and immediately frowned. There was no one there.
"Exactly, son! They're rare, authentic Dumbapples! 30,000 Gils each," the shopkeeper restated.
Had he imagine it or was there someone standing next to him before? No, the person must have just passed by. "Dumbapples, huh? I've never heard of it before..."
"Yes, you have."
Cloud whirled around. Someone's breath was still fresh and warm over his sensitive ear yet no one was to be found out of the ordinary. What's going on?
He shook his head. "I'm sorry sir, I'm actually looking for someone. Have you seen a man about my size, in a dark attire and goatee? He'd resemble a Turk."
The man looked to his right thoughtfully, furrowing his brows. "I can't say I have. Or I may have. Your description's too vague. It could be anybody."
"Well, how about a robotic cat riding a stuffed animal?" Cloud hated that question more.
"No, but if strange is what you're looking for, I did see a man early this morning heading out of town. Hm..." the man seemed to be searching his memory. "He had extremely long, silver hair and a ridiculously long blade."
Cloud's eyes widened at the description.
"He's quite unforgettable even for a man like me. Tall. Handsome face with green eyes. His presence was very commanding," the man finished with a nod.
"Which way did he - "
- PINNNNNNG! -
Cloud clutched at the sides of his forehead, wincing. The ringing had returned in full blast. The pavement below his feet blurred in and out, doubling and tripling. The shop owner peered at him and Cloud saw the man's lips moving, noticed the concerned look on the man's face but he couldn't hear anything or focus. Cloud felt his eyes roll up, threatening to black him out and just so, the last thing he saw was the cementing by his face and the many pairs of feet facing him, wondering what had happened.
"They're Dumbapples."
"They only grow in Banora."
"It was Genesis' dream to eat them with Sephiroth."
"Banora is gone. There are no more Banora Whites."
"They're rare, authentic Dumbapples! 30,000 Gils each!"
The distant sound of traffic and the murmuring of people gradually stirred Cloud from slumber. As his mind cleared, he remembered speaking with a street vendor selling the extinct fruit and then the ringing attack. He sat up hastily, aware of the unfamiliar room.
"He's awake, mom!" Bared feet pattered away.
Cloud quickly examined the small room. It was more or less the size of Denzel's room and the bed he was lying on was a small twin-sized. To his right was a rickety wooden nightstand with an old, yellowed lampshade. First Ken was propped upright in front of the stand and in the partly opened window, the sky was murky and distant chattering hummed through. What time is it?
"Hello, sir," a female approached gently from the doorway to his left. There was a boy slightly older than Denzel standing before her. Both wore ragged, murky colors that matched the surroundings. They remained at the doorway.
"Hello," Cloud replied, shifting out of bed.
"My son and I saw what happened and we brought you here." The female explained. "Oh, but I apologize if - "
"No, no. Thank you. I appreciate your kindness."
"We also brought your bike. It's sitting outside. There were lots of people touching it so my son figured we should bring it along with us."
The boy smiled widely. "What's your name?"
"Cloud." He bent over to straighten out the sheets but the mother stopped him by gently placing a hand on top of the covers at the foot of the bed.
"Don't worry about making the bed. Are you hungry?" She looked at Cloud timidly.
The mother was a petite woman, small and shorter, about Yuffie's size. "My name is Terra," she placed both hands over the brown-haired boy's shoulders, "and this is my son, Sora."
Sora grinned. "My mom's the best cook. Even if you're not hungry, you should pretend you are or you'll be missing out on the meal of a lifetime."
"In that case, if it's not too much trouble..." Cloud nodded in acceptance. It was partly out of feeling a small pang of hunger and partly as his way of not appearing rude by denying something that seemed to make both the lovely people beam with pride.
Terra bowed her head and whispered to Sora, telling him to show Cloud around the house like a gentleman. He nodded and looked back at Cloud as his mother left the room.
"Um... we don't have much but my mom always makes delicious meals. I hope you'll agree." Sora's blue eyes sparkled, reminiscing about the delectable food.
Cloud smiled and squatted to level his eyes with the boy. "I can already tell it's going to be a meal I'll never forget!"
"You bet!" Then, his eyes downcasted. "You know, my mom once told me that she had dreamed of running a restaurant."
Cloud stared, waiting for the boy to continue. When the boy simply stared back, Cloud prodded. "What stopped her?"
"Well," he backed onto the bed with a sad expression. "My dad died and my mom became absorbed in mending her broken heart."
"How did he die?" Cloud suddenly regretted asking such a personal question but there was no way to stop since it was already out. Backtracking on words already spoken was as effective as decorating an insult so he chose not to rescind the inquiry.
"My dad was a SOLDIER and he died chasing a deserter out on that one cliff outside of Midgard. That happened back when I was a baby."
Cloud felt his blood drained and pooled at his feet. It sounded all too familiar. The boy's father was one of the thousands of SOLDIERs dispatched to kill Zack and himself. A mixture of anger, disbelief and sadness overwhelmed him as he locked eyes with the innocent child. No, he wouldn't let the past change how appreciative he was of this mother and son for bringing him to safety. They had nothing to do with the tragedy and the father was only following orders. He won't let the past influence his judgment! He cleared the lump in his throat softly. "I see. I'm sorry to hear that."
"It's okay. I'm the man of the house so I'll take care of my mom." Sora forged a smile. "I'll work hard to open a restaurant for my mom one day."
Cloud studied the boy with adoring eyes. There was something about the kind and caring aura surrounding the boy that made him want to pull him into a deep, heart-felt hug. As if absorbing Cloud's feelings, Sora reached for Cloud's hand and squeezed it lightly.
"I'll show you around the house, Cloud."
Cloud thanked the teenaged girl behind the cake shop register and grabbed the white plastic bag. He had been wondering all day how he could show his gratitude toward Terra and Sora when he spied a beautiful strawberry decorated cake sitting on display. Without further ado, he ordered one while continuing his blind search for Reeve.
It had already been a number of days since they returned from the Gold Saucer. By some holy act of goodness, he hoped the bodies have been cleared out, though he knew it wouldn't be the easiest of tasks with thousands of victims. He suddenly remembered the missed calls from Reno and dug out his phone as he stepped out of the bakery. Indeed, Reno had left him a voicemail for each call. He pressed for voicemail and placed the phone to his ear, strolling back to Fenrir's side.
"Yo, this is Reno. Call me back." Cloud went to the next voicemail.
"Uh, it's Reno. Call me back at this number."
"It's me again, yo. Still waiting for that call!"
"Where are you, man? Call me back!"
"Ahem. Uh, this is Rude. Reno wants you to call him as soon as possible."
Cloud sighed and snapped his phone closed. Yeah, he should call the red-head back but first, he wanted to give the lovely cake to Sora and his mother. It may have been a while since they ate one seeing as they were poor and lived off mostly scrap meals. Sora was right, Terra did make a luscious meal out of just small things.
Fenrir roared to life as he readied to leave. There had been another idea which had been brewing in his mind since he spoke with Sora about his mother's fallen dream. He wanted to ask if they were willing to relocate to Edge and help Tifa run her place. They'd have a place to stay and work, Terra would be the cook, and Cloud could always find his own place to live. He didn't think Tifa would mind. After all, it'd be more hands on deck and a larger, updated menu.
The sun was setting in the horizon and had painted the skies in red and purple hues. The clouds were still dark as if threatening to pour any second. He cranked up the speed on Fenrir, feeling a mixture of excitement and anxiety as he headed toward the home of Terra and Sora.
The wooden planks-for-a-door sat ajar. Thinking nothing of it, Cloud unhooked the bag with the cake off the handle bars of the bike and walked briskly to the opened doorway. He hadn't thought of what he'd say when he presented the cake or how he'd present the dessert, so with a heavy sigh, he brushed the door open the rest of the way.
The cake in his gloved hand plopped onto the dirty cement at his feet, a few strawberries rolled away. Several yards from the entrance laid Terra, blood splattered over her unmoving form and the immediate area surrounding her. Cloud dashed inside, his heart pounding dangerously within his chest.
"Terra!" he turned her over. Her eyes were half-closed, her pupils had dilated and her paled skin was cold. Blood matted her long, brown hair to her cheeks. There was a vegetable soup dish spewed across the hard floor.
Cloud gritted his teeth. Who could have...
"Sora?" he called aloud. "Sora!"
Not receiving a reply, Cloud set Terra's lifeless form down and raced from one small bedroom to the other. Both were empty. The bathroom was empty as well. He rushed to the back door and found it open. He cursed under his breath, knowing what to expect. Out in the small backyard where Terra grew some herbs, the boy laid face-down in a bed of blood-stained cilantro.
"Sora!" He hastily knelt over the dark soil, grabbed the boy and pulled him up to his knees. "Sora..."
Like his mother, Sora was cold. Cloud grimaced, tears pooling at the brims of his eyes until Sora's left arm rolled off his knee. Cloud blinked away the tears when he saw the intricate carvings on the boy's bloodied torso. He recognized the scrawled handwriting right away.
"It's been a long time, Cloud."
Cloud bit his bottom lip as he eyed the slit writing. Specks and pieces of rage began to form in his chest and when it became too full to contain, he raised his head skyward and let out a battle cry.