Author's Note: I wound up doing a fair chunk of last-minute revisions on this chapter, so I'm not too sure if it still reads well. Hopefully it came out okay.
The Fifth Act
Chapter 18
By Sinnatious
Cloud stepped off the train onto an empty platform, barely resisting the urge to wrinkle his nose at the smell. Even above-plate, Midgar didn't carry a particularly pleasant odour, but the slums were an all-out assault on a SOLDIER's senses. Unwashed bodies, stagnant water, industrial waste, and underneath it all laid a pervading stench of mako that made his stomach roil and left a metallic taste on his tongue.
Ignoring the foul odour – he would get used to it quickly enough – he headed into Sector 5, walking a well-worn path in his memory. Genesis's visits to 'check up' on his progress had the intended effect of moving his conversation with Aeris up the priority list – Cloud had waited for the first day he knew Zack would be away on a mission, then slipped from headquarters to go below-Plate.
Few people paid any attention to him, having become used to the sight of the blond around the slums during the first week he'd arrived in Midgar. Most still gave him a wide berth, though – even if he'd gone to the trouble of changing into his own clothes for this excursion, the resemblance to a SOLDIER uniform had them erring on the side of caution.
As he made his way to the church, he found himself hoping that Aeris wouldn't be there, and he'd have an excuse to put it off a little longer. While he truly wanted to help Angeal – the SOLDIER didn't deserve what happened to him – he also didn't want to impose such a request on an innocent teenage girl. What if she couldn't do it? He didn't know exactly how her Cetra powers worked. They were burdening her with the weight of a person's survival. In another time, she'd already given her life to save the Planet. Cloud couldn't ask anything more.
Yet as he pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the church, knew he would.
There she was – kneeling at the edge of the flowers, checking the soil, and plucking the occasional one through careful selection to add to her basket. At the sound of the doors opening, she looked up, and her face broke into a radiant smile.
"What brings you here, Mr Nobody?" she called out, voice echoing sweetly off the walls.
Cloud shuffled in place awkwardly, staring at everything except the girl in front of him.
"Don't stand all the way over there, silly. It's hard to talk. Come here. I won't bite." She patted the space next to her, and Cloud felt his feet move forward of their own accord. He could never refuse her. Not even a simple request.
"I'm glad you came back to visit," she said as he sat next to her, arms wrapped around the knees folded against his chest. "Zack told me you made it into ShinRa, and you were 'kicking ass'." She made little notation signs with her fingers. "But he only sees what he wants to see, sometimes. How are you liking it?"
He shrugged, letting his fingers drift across the delicate flower petals. He instinctively checked the dampness of the soil – he'd taken over caring for the flowers after Aeris died, though they never did as well as they'd done under her hand. "It's okay."
"You look tired," she observed, solemn. "Are you doing too much?"
He shook his head. "Not enough."
She clucked her tongue. "So busy worrying about everybody else, you won't worry about yourself."
Cloud didn't really have a response for that.
"Maybe I can help?" she suggested. "That's why you're here, isn't it?"
"Does the Planet let you read minds?" It sounded sarcastic, but the blond meant it as a genuine query. He never had the chance to ask before. Aeris could talk to strangers and pinpoint their woes in a matter of seconds. It bordered on magic.
She giggled. "That would be nice. Then I could solve all of your mysteries, Mr Nobody."
Guiltily, he admitted, "Well, you're right. There is something you can help with, maybe." Hastily, he added, "You can refuse, if you don't feel comfortable-"
"You'll have to tell me what it is first, won't you?" she prodded.
Cloud sighed. "Yeah."
So he explained Geostigma, degradation, and the spring's water that cured it as best he could, trying to use general terms she'd understand without giving away his situation, and mentioning that it was for Zack's mentor who she'd probably heard about, knowing Zack, but that he didn't want either of them to know about it. She listened attentively, nodding thoughtfully every now and again, and looking sympathetic at all the right places.
"And you think a Cetra can make this happen again?" she summarised.
He nodded. "I'm sorry I can't explain it better," he mumbled. "I didn't want to ask you, but…"
"But you don't know who else to ask?" She laid a gentle hand on his arm.
"Don't put yourself to any trouble. I just thought, maybe if you talked to the Planet…" He placed his hand over hers, disquieted by how fragile it felt.
"Careful," she whispered. "My boyfriend might get jealous."
Blushing, Cloud snatched his hand away and blustered, "It's not- I'm not-" Gaia, she was far too young now for him to even think-!
She giggled. "Silly. Zack would play along."
"I… I'm not Zack." The words sounded raw and broken, and he wished he could take them back, but she just patted his shoulder.
"You're fine as you are, Mr Nobody," she assured him. "I'll do what I can to help. I don't know if I can do much of anything… but we won't know until we try, right?"
Unbidden, he felt the corners of his mouth turn up slightly. "Yeah."
She clapped her hands. "You can smile! I thought I'd imagined it!"
Alarmed, his face reverted to a blank expression. She shook her head and poked his cheeks, and Cloud suddenly felt five again. "Don't stop, silly! You've got a lovely smile. You should use it lots and lots."
"I… don't have a lot to smile about right now," he apologised.
"Then you'll just have to make some reasons to smile," she told him, as though it were as simple as that.
He knew better than to argue with Aeris, and ducked his head. They sat there quietly for a couple of minutes before he murmured, "…I should get going. I promised Kunsel I'd train with him later today." And he needed to make his daily stop by the Training Room to check for mad scientists.
"Okay. How should I let you know if I figure things out?"
Cloud blinked. He hadn't thought of that. "I have a PHS…" But no pen to write down his number with. "Um… maybe send a message through Zack?" he suggested.
"Like a code?" Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
"If you want," he agreed awkwardly.
"Okay!" she sang. "I'll talk to you again soon, Mr Nobody."
Cloud was confused. "Um, what's the code?" he ventured.
She placed a finger against her lips. "You'll know it when you hear it!"
That didn't exactly fill him with confidence. Shaking his head, he got to his feet, pausing and regarding the flower girl for a moment. "It's… Thank you," he decided. "It really means a lot…"
"Silly," she chided. "If I'd known about it, I would have done something even if you hadn't asked. And you're looking out for Zack, too, aren't you? That's reason enough."
What could he really say to that? Nothing. Aeris was right, as always. Even as a teenager, she was the wise one.
"Now, shoo," she waved him away. "I know you SOLDIER-types are always busy. Go get some rest, and don't worry for a while. Let someone else worry for you for a change."
So he retreated, pausing at the door to look back. She gave him another little wave, and he managed another brief smile, then slipped outside.
He made it barely ten steps before Tseng appeared from the shadows.
To his embarrassment, it took him a minute to realise he should be alarmed by the Turk's presence. He'd become used to Tseng in the future, and while the occasions for their meetings had never been pleasant, it had been a long, long time since he'd considered the man a threat.
The delay in reaction probably saved his plans, as it let him respond normally. "Tseng," he greeted.
"Strife." The Turk fell into step beside him, while the blond's thoughts raced ahead at break-neck speed. How could he have forgotten about ShinRa watching the last surviving Ancient? Did he hear anything? Probably not - they'd spoken quietly, and Aeris wouldn't have let him talk about such sensitive issues if she knew someone could be listening in.
"It's a surprise to see you in this area," Tseng commented.
"We met here," he reminded him.
"True. But you were a vagrant, then. Why are you here now?" Tseng's tone was mild, but Cloud could read between the lines. What he really wanted to know was: 'What business do you have with the Ancient?'
"I wanted to see the flowers again," he replied. Then, just to cement his lack of connection in the Turk's mind, he asked, "Are you watching the Church? Is there something special about it? Aside from the flowers, I mean." A trick learnt from watching Reno at the bar. The best way to deflect attention was to direct your questions to the wrong place.
Tseng stared at him for a long moment, as though measuring him up. Cloud met his gaze steadily. Eventually, he replied, "That's classified information."
Looked like he was safe for now, if only just. "Oh." He cast a glance back at the building, bitter at the realisation that he probably wouldn't be able to see the flowers again for a while. "So I shouldn't come here anymore?"
"We'd prefer not. There are people of interest we're watching in the area, who might get spooked at the presence of a SOLDIER. They're used to Zack - his relationship with Aeris is well-known in the slums." It wasn't even a lie, but Tseng had worded it so smoothly Cloud had to wonder how many other secrets the man hid in plain sight.
"I understand," he murmured. "I'll stay away from now on." Aeris could reach him through Zack if she had any breakthroughs in calling up the water – hopefully she'd only try to contact him when she had something substantial. Still, he held back a sigh at the knowledge that he wouldn't be able to sneak off to sleep at the church if he got desperate. Another comfort denied. "Anything else I should know? I don't want to cause problems."
Tseng gave him an odd look, and then shook his head. "No… that's all. Thank you for your cooperation." He hesitated. "If… matters clear up, then we'll let you know that it's safe to come back."
Cloud knew what he really meant was 'If we decide we can trust you, then we'll let you near the Ancient', but simply nodded in acceptance. After all, he didn't want them to think he had any particular attachment to Aeris. Better they think he had some nostalgic attachment to the church itself.
"I should continue with work," Tseng said, "I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing."
Cloud raised his hand once in farewell, and resolutely didn't look back. That could have very easily been a disaster, and he could only hope he looked calmer than he felt. How much longer could he keep walking this tightrope without messing up?
Running a hand through his spikes, he changed direction, making a beeline for Wall Market. He might as well get some errands out of the way to take his mind off things.
Sephiroth awoke with a jerk.
Another nightmare. He threw back the covers and made for the bathroom, shuddering. The phantom pain would pass, he knew. Imagined trauma lingered only a few seconds after waking.
What kept bringing them on? Such disturbing dreams. A burning town. Being strapped to an icy operating table, unable to avoid the descending scalpel. Drowning in mako. Angeal's student, bleeding to death on a cliff in the rain. Skewered by a doppelganger, again and again and again, and yet he continued to drag himself to his feet, heedless of the blood spattering the ground.
He splashed some water into his face and felt refreshed, the after-effects of the nightmare fading away. He took his time moving through his morning routine, but when he finished, the sun had only just begun to peek over the horizon. Sighing, he left his quarters and headed for the elevator. He briefly entertained the notion of stalking Cloud's room several floors down – the Second would surely still be asleep – but dismissed the thought almost immediately. As enjoyable as it was to ruffle the blond's feathers, annoying him first thing in the morning would only damage the tenuous truce they'd established. He'd seek him out later in the day.
It was early still – any movement in the building relegated mostly to the tired guard patrols finishing their shifts and the janitorial services cleaning up the previous day's messes. Thus Sephiroth was surprised to come across a familiar face by the coffee machine. "Angeal?"
"Sephiroth!" He glanced up from his cup of steaming black coffee. "You're up early."
"So are you."
He chuckled. "I'm always up early. Gives me a chance to finish my reports in peace."
Not a bad strategy. Sephiroth's own paperwork wouldn't be so backlogged if meetings and questions and phone-calls didn't interrupt him every five minutes.
"Still, it's unusual for you," Angeal continued, offering him a cup of coffee. "Here, take it. You don't look like you've been sleeping well."
"I haven't," Sephiroth agreed, accepting the drink and nursing it in his hands. "No matter. I can function on less."
Angeal shook his head ruefully. "Are you sure you and Strife aren't long lost siblings?"
"Why do you ask?"
"He feeds me the same line every time I see him stumbling around this time of day with bags under his eyes."
Another interesting tidbit about their mystery SOLDIER, and Sephiroth filed it away with all the others. He would figure the man out yet. They spent a moment sipping coffee in companionable silence, and the General fished about for some menial conversation about something other than Cloud Strife. He didn't want to look obsessed, after all.
"I heard you went to see Hollander recently," he mentioned.
Angeal grimaced. "You did, huh?"
"Is anything wrong?"
"Just some tests. Genesis keeps asking after my health - I thought I'd go get some done to shut him up."
Sephiroth observed his old friend carefully. "Is that really all it is?"
"Please, one mother chocobo is enough. He's away in his lab processing the results, I'll get an appointment when he comes back, and you'll see that everything is fine then."
He didn't sound so sure, but Sephiroth didn't call him on it. Something didn't feel right. People were keeping secrets again. Like Genesis and his strange injury, and equally strange recovery.
He never thought Angeal would hide something from him, though. Or was he simply searching for shadows where none existed? The nightmares may have left him more on edge than he thought.
They finished their coffee in awkward silence, and parted ways soon after.
The Training Room remained empty. Cloud glowered at the floor.
He knew Genesis's words hadn't been misleading, because Kunsel and Zack had confirmed them. And he knew that the chances of Hojo turning up on the SOLDIER floor in the relatively short time period he'd been in ShinRa weren't high. But how long could he wait?
It left him uneasy. He was being – what was the word Tifa always used? – passive, again. Just sitting and waiting for the opportunity to come along. What if it never did? How long could he continue stalking this space? Shouldn't he be more proactive?
Was he afraid?
A little. He'd be a fool not to be. If something went wrong, he could mess up everything worse than before. It was too much responsibility for someone who had failed so many times in the past. Maybe he would have been better off just hiding in the remote wilderness of Wutai until everything had been settled.
Dilly-dally, shilly-shally.
Cloud sighed, and dug out his PHS. Nearly midday, and still no mission mail. He'd better go see Lazard to find out what the hold-up was.
"Cloud!" a familiar voice called as he left the Training Room. "You're back early."
Kunsel. "I haven't left yet."
That flummoxed the other Second, so Cloud took the opportunity to toss a Fire materia at him. He caught it with a perplexed expression.
"Forgot to give that to you yesterday. Between that and the materia you already have, you've got most monsters covered. There aren't many that are resistant to fire, ice and lightning."
"It's natural," he murmured. "No way, Cloud, I can't accept this. It must have cost a fortune!"
He waved a hand dismissively, continuing on down the hallway. "It's low level. You'll have to put in a lot of work to master it." And he didn't have much else to spend his gil on at ShinRa. They paid him well, but aside from hoarding money for his future as a fugitive, he didn't need gil for anything else.
He slipped into the elevator before Kunsel could stutter out either a thanks or another protest, tapping his foot lightly on the short journey to the Director's office and ignoring the office runners eying him with a mixture of awe and nervousness. Thanks to Sephiroth taking a personal interest in him, he'd apparently developed something of a reputation around the office.
Fortunately, Lazard was at his desk when he arrived. "Director," Cloud greeted.
"Strife! On your own, are you? Excellent timing. Please, come in. I've been wanting to talk to you," he invited cordially.
Perturbed by the reaction, Cloud shut the door behind him and moved in front of the desk, conscious of the Director's steely blue eyes on him. No chairs, he noted. Even as the head of the WRO, Reeve always had plenty of spare chairs in his office. "What about?"
"Nothing to be concerned over. Have you adjusted to life in Second Class yet?"
Cloud shrugged. "It's not any different to Third."
"I'm glad to hear it."
He eyed the Director warily. "...That's not what you really want to ask, is it?" He hadn't missed Lazard's question about him being alone. What could he want to say while other ears weren't around?
The Director steepled his fingers, leaning back in his chair. The fluorescent lights cast a sharp shadow over his eyes. It made his resemblance to Rufus ShinRa stand out even more. "You certainly aren't the naive type, are you, Strife?"
Cloud shrugged again.
"My mother had a saying about people in the slums. 'Cynics aren't born - they're made'." Lazard studied him at length, as though waiting for a reaction. "It makes me wonder what you've experienced in life to make you turn out the way you did."
"...Nothing special," he muttered. He couldn't exactly tell anyone about his life experiences without sounding crazy, or worse, bringing the Science Department down on his head.
Lazard made a small sound of amusement in the back of his throat - a sort of half-cough all executives seemed to share. "I suppose it's not really important, in the grand scheme of things. We all have our secrets." Something oddly dark stole across the Director's countenance at those words.
Cloud didn't know what to make of it, and he was getting impatient. He hadn't come here to deal with corporate double-talk. Lazard must have noticed, as he sat forward again and said, "I'll get to the point, Strife. What do you think of ShinRa?"
"...What do you mean?" Apprehension set in. Had he messed up anywhere? Had Lazard seen through his plans?
"I thought perhaps we might share a similar perspective, given your contract." He paused a beat, and when Cloud didn't reply, expounded, "There's something very wrong with this company, wouldn't you agree?"
Dangerous, dangerous territory. "I don't really pay attention to company politics."
"A diplomatic answer. But you don't need to worry. I don't intend to report anything you say to the Turks, if that's what you're concerned about."
Cloud remained silent. He was suddenly struck by the sensation that there was something important about Lazard he'd forgotten. He grasped at the glimpses nestled in Zack's memories, but couldn't make sense of it. Lazard had disappeared at some point, he knew that much, but that in itself was unremarkable in ShinRa. There must have been more to it.
"Is this something to do with the Planet?" he stalled. "I didn't expect you to be an environmentalist."
Lazard answered him with a wry smile. "You'd be right. I'm afraid I'm not a superstitious man."
Cloud was tempted to point out that the Lifestream was hardly a superstition, but he remembered enough about public ignorance in this time to keep his mouth shut. ShinRa was already wary enough of him without being labelled an Avalanche sympathiser. "So what do you want, then?"
"I'm proposing an alliance, Strife. To correct the wrongs that have been wrought. Together, we may be able to achieve far more than what we could alone."
An alliance?
For a moment, he seriously considered it. Lazard was on the Board of Directors. He would have access to Hojo, at the very least - could possibly even help him find information on Jenova.
But no. Cloud wouldn't fall for that. It was beginning to come back to him. He couldn't remember clearly, but he remembered enough. He'd had a lifetime of being used, after all - by ShinRa, by Sephiroth, it didn't matter who the puppetmaster was. He could see it play out already. Lazard forever dangling the promise of Hojo's head in front of him, just as he once lured Genesis with talk of cures, and stoked the fires of the Commander's lust for revenge. He would never deliver, though. The Director was far too clever to actually give his pawns what they wanted - after all, once they had it, they wouldn't have any reason to continue putting their necks on the line.
Cloud wasn't so naive as to trust Lazard. Not with the future he had to prevent. He could trust himself to win a swordfight, but this kind of subterfuge and politics...
"...I don't think our goals are exactly the same, Director."
It was all he needed to say.
Lazard's expression, though outwardly changing very little, definitely cooled. "I see." The silence stretched, taut with tension. "My apologies, Strife. It was presumptuous of me to indulge in such talk. You've only been at the company for a short while - it's far too early to be talking about your personal vision statement. Feel free to consult with me on the matter after you've given it some more thought."
Cloud paused, briefly thrown by the sudden shift in conversation and corporate lingo. Oh. Plausible deniability. He hadn't realised exactly how vaguely worded Lazard's statements had been until then.
Not that it was necessary. ShinRa would trust Lazard's word far more than they would ever trust his.
He could live with that, though. It was one more person he'd have to keep an eye on, but this way Lazard wouldn't be able to do anything to get in his way when the time came. He couldn't quite shake the feeling that he'd just dodged a bullet, but that was an altogether too common feeling these days.
All business again, Lazard continued, "I'm sorry, you originally came up for something else, didn't you? How can I help you?"
That was right. He'd almost forgotten. "I haven't received a mission yet today." He glanced pointedly at the clock.
"Yes. You're on stand-by today," Lazard agreed.
Confused, Cloud asked, "Stand-by?"
The Director nodded curtly, turning his attention to the stack of papers on his desk. "Strife, did you know you've been filling at least one mission, sometimes two or three, every day since you started working here?"
Cloud stared at him blankly. He knew that. So what?
"You haven't even taken off a weekend. Some of those low-priority solo missions were allocated to you on the understanding that you would tackle them at your leisure. Of course, you've done them all immediately, so the system has been routing you the next mission on your list automatically, which you also complete immediately. As such, you're well over quota."
"…And that's a problem?" Cloud asked, still not seeing the issue.
"Human Resources has regulations in place to prevent overextension of SOLDIERs. Since the work you do is dangerous by nature, it's expected that downtime is taken between missions for recreation, training, and recuperation if necessary. I know you've also been providing mentorship for some of your fellow SOLDIERs, so your workload is even higher than represented by the numbers."
"I don't consider that work."
Lazard still wasn't meeting his eyes, but otherwise continued as though they hadn't been discussing sedition mere moments before. "Perhaps not, but there's a very good reason why these regulations exist. If we allow our SOLDIERs to become overtired, then they're prone to making mistakes out in the field, and in our line of work that can be fatal. There's also psychological health to be considered too – if a SOLDIER happens to suffer a breakdown from stress, they could cause a considerable amount of damage."
They could wipe out an entire town, in fact. It didn't appear ShinRa's rules had stopped that from happening. The thought brought a scowl to his face. "I thought you were short on manpower," Cloud argued. He wanted out of the building, at least for a little while. Sephiroth would be on the prowl later, looking for another 'chat', he could sense it. After the nightmares he'd suffered last night, he wasn't in the mood.
"You're not receiving any missions until you've had at least a full day's downtime," Lazard stated firmly. "I'm pleased you're so enthusiastic, but there are procedures to be followed. And we're expecting you to limit missions to no more than four days in a row in the future."
Unbelievable. ShinRa had these kinds of workplace health and safety regulations in place? He found it morbidly hilarious considering the rest of the company's ethics.
"Fine," he agreed tonelessly. "Thanks for your time."
He stalked out of the office, childishly wishing to slam the door, but his hand remained still at his side. One thing that pierced through the patchwork memories of his ShinRa days was the impossibility of arguing with the company's bureaucracy. Besides, what did he expect? He'd just turned down Lazard's offer flat. He didn't regret it, but it also meant he couldn't be expecting any rule-bending favours from the man any time soon.
A whole day off. Tseng made it so that he couldn't visit the Church, and Cloud didn't really like the idea of being gawked at above-Plate. He could go back to baby-sitting the Training Room, but he'd spent hours doing that today already. What did he used to do on his days off from ShinRa? He couldn't remember. Those kinds of details were the ones he never reclaimed – the right triggers for them simply didn't exist.
He was rescued by the buzz of his PHS. A message. He flipped it open, quickly scanning the contents.
Yuffie was teasing him about her treasure hunting again. Cloud fought back a sigh. How did a girl not yet even ten years old continually give her minders the slip and roam so freely across the continents? More importantly, how on earth had she survived until 16 the first time around?
At least it gave him something to do. He hit the button for the garage floor, and struggled to curb his impatience. His talk with Lazard had set his already frayed nerves on edge. He wasn't sure how much longer he could deal with this.
Hojo had better turn up soon, or Cloud might be tempted to just level with the whole building with Comet and be done with it.