08. Green Fire

"You're running away but the shadow is your own, your own

One day when it finds you, take it to heart, you can't run away

When you know that the tall, tall shadow

The tall, tall shadow is yours."

From Tall, Tall Shadow by Basia Bulat

With the building being deserted, the escape wasn't all that difficult. They were down at the slums before the sun set completely, in a deserted park (broken, like everything else in the slums was). The air was heavy and wet, like it was about to rain.

"So – we got Aerith back." Barret said.

"Thank you, everyone," Aerith said. "For coming to help me."

"Yes, my thanks, too." Red XIII added.

"What's going to happen now?" Tifa directed the question at Cloud. Everybody was looking at him now. Cloud hesitated, smelled the rain and then it was hard not to remember.

"Sephiroth is alive," he started, slowly. "And I have to – I have a score to settle."

"Well, AVALANCHE ain't dead," Barret said, his voice fierce. "An' I still gotta save the Planet, for Jessie an' Biggs an' Wedge."

"So I guess it means goodbye." Cloud said.

Barret looked at him strangely. "Who said anythin' about any goodbye? I'm goin' with you."

"You…"

"Me too. I have to find out some things about… the Ancients," Aerith said. "And I'm not going to wait this time."

Cloud wanted to ask what she meant, but then Red XIII was speaking, "I'm going back to my hometown. I'll go with you as far as that."

And all Tifa said was; "I guess that's goodbye, Midgar."

"I have to tell you, though, Sephiroth is dangerous."

"We know, Cloud," said Tifa. "But like I said, we'll be here to help you." And Cloud didn't have anything more to say; he looked at them all, wondering if they really knew.

"Wait, we need a group leader for our journey," Barret said. "'Course only me could be the leader, ya know, since I'm already –"

"It would have to be Cloud," Aerith said.

"Me?" Cloud looked back at her, and at Tifa, who started to laugh at Barret's expression.

"Sorry, Mr. Barret," Aerith bit her lips (fighting back a smile).

Barret looked scandalized. "… Who you callin' Mr. Barret?" He looked round at them, then at Cloud. "Okay, fine. Fine. Since yer the Sephiroth expert."

"I don't want…" Cloud started, but it wasn't like anyone listened to him, anyway. He didn't know why he bothered. Raindrops started to fall, on his cheeks and arms. Cloud looked up; a slight space of sky between the plates, gray and indistinguishable now from the metal.

"It's getting late, anyway," he said. "We might as well go to Kalm and find an inn."

"Whatever you say, leader," Red XIII said, and Cloud wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or not, but Aerith started to laugh and Barret was glaring at him (like it'd been Cloud's choice), and Cloud just had to shrug, and lead the way out of Midgar.

A few steps into the slums, the rain stopped; the plate, a giant umbrella.

There was no plate above the small village of Kalm, which was just outside Midgar. The air was less denser, Cloud thought, and water fell freely from the sky. As soon as they checked into an inn, it started to pour and soon the whole village was full of rain sounds, gray, clean.

And now Cloud sat in one of the two rooms they'd gotten, faced with a question; he didn't know where to begin.

He looked out the small, dirty window. The raindrops blurred everything outside, hazy outlines. He watched drops form and slide down, ceaselessly; it'd been raining that day, too. Maybe he could start there.

"So?" Barret said, impatient. "Let's hear your story. C'mon."

"Do I…"

"Yes, you have to, Cloud," said Aerith, sternly. "If we're going to fight together."

Cloud wondered if anyone was going to let him finish his sentences. "Alright," he sighed. "I guess I'll start at the beginning, then."

"Hm, we're listening."

"… I used to want to be like Sephiroth. That's why I joined SOLDIER. And after working with Sephiroth on several missions, we became… friends."

"Friends?" Barret echoed, scrunching up his face. "You were friends with this crazy, murderin'…"

"He wasn't," Cloud said quickly. "He wasn't, back then." And he had really believed. "Maybe we weren't quite friends, because he was older than me and never talked about himself, but we were – comrades, I guess. We trusted each other. Until –"

"Until?" Aerith asked, when Cloud didn't go on.

Cloud's mind blurred, the memory oddly clear, like he was there now. On that day. It'd been raining hard then, too.

That was five years ago, I was sixteen, he heard himself say.

It was one of those things again; his memory, like a quilted sheet, had jarred edges that didn't quite match, had cloths that stood out too vividly. And he was there. It was –

"– Raining hard. How're you doing?"

Cloud nudged a SOLDIER sitting next to him. They were sitting in the back of a truck, on their way to another mission. A scanty tent was covering their heads, but occasional raindrops struck their foreheads every now and then. The SOLDIER shrugged.

"I'm alright." But he looked a little green, Cloud noted.

"I've never had motion sickness. You sure you're okay?" The SOLDIER nodded. Cloud then turned to Sephiroth, who was sitting at the opposite end of the small truck. "How about you, you alright?"

Sephiroth gave him an exasperated look. "Settle down, you're just like a little kid."

Cloud wanted to say that he couldn't care less what he thought, and mean it, but he couldn't. Everyone was going on about how young he was (but he was sixteen already), treating him like a child, and it had become a sensitive spot.

"You going to brief us about this mission?" Cloud asked instead. He would rather die than bring this – matter – to Sephiroth.

"Yes, I was about to," Sephiroth said. He flipped through the file he was holding. "This isn't any typical mission."

"Good," Cloud said, before he could stop himself. For a second their eyes met; Cloud thought it was a mixture of irritation and curiosity in Sephiroth's green eyes, but it was gone quickly and Sephiroth was frowning now.

"Why do you say that?"

"… It's just, the war ended, and there isn't a lot of chance to –" Be a hero. Be like you. "– Prove myself."

Sephiroth was giving him an odd look, and Cloud cleared his throat, belatedly self-conscious.

"So, anyway, the mission?"

Sephiroth raised his eyebrows, but he did turn back to the papers, and Cloud sighed in relief.

"Our mission is to investigate an old Mako reactor. There have been reports of it malfunctioning, and producing – brutal creatures. We will locate the problem and neutralize it."

"Brutal creatures? Where?" Cloud frowned. Something, maybe a premonition, was making his heart beat a little faster.

"The Mako reactor at Nibelheim."

"Nibelheim?" Cloud repeated, a little dazed, a little uncertain – and terribly anxious, though he didn't know what for.

"Is there a problem?"

"No – just, that's where I'm from."

"Hm. Hometown." Sephiroth had the strangest expression on his face. If Cloud didn't know better, he would've maybe said he was smiling. Cloud frowned, opened his mouth to say something to the effect of so your facial muscles work just fine, after all, when the SOLDIER who was driving the truck interrupted, his voice urgent.

"Sir! Something – strange – just crashed into our truck! It's coming back –"

"That would be our monster."

Then Sephiroth was getting up in one fluid motion. Cloud hastily made to stand up, but he stumbled over his untied shoelaces, and before he'd even taken a single step, everything was over. Cloud looked up at the sharp slashing sound and the short cry of the monster, and Sephiroth was standing there, in the pouring rain, red blood a fine mist, looking at Cloud with unreadable eyes.

And those eyes, that green, had scared Cloud then; even though he couldn't have guessed what was going to happen next, what Sephiroth would become. All these years later, remembering the first glimpse of – what was it, madness, fury, something raw – he shivered.

"Sephiroth's strength is unreal," he told Barret, Tifa, Aerith and Red XIII, who'd been quiet, listening to his story. "He's far stronger in reality than any story you might have heard about him."

"That ain't good," Barret muttered.

"So… where do you come in?" Aerith asked.

"Me? Sephiroth took care of things so fast… I was just staring at him. And then, we reached Nibelheim." He glanced at Tifa. She didn't meet his eyes, lost in some other thought.

Welcome to Nibelheim. Cloud remembered seeing the familiar battered sign at the entrance of their village. It had seemed to be falling apart since forever, but never quite managing to be broken, hanging askew. One of the things he hated about the town. There had been no one around when they arrived at the town's gate, soaked through and through by the rain.

Which was hardly a surprise, Cloud thought, as he ruffled his hair, trying to dry it. The rain had stopped a few hours ago, but the smell still lingered. Tangled in the dirt, and came at him like a physical force; the country smell was something he was familiar with.

"How does it feel? It's your first time back home after you joined, isn't it?" Sephiroth asked. Cloud was a little surprised that Sephiroth would know – or care.

"I'm not really sure," Cloud said, shrugging. So much had happened after he left, and he hadn't been planning to come back like this. Or to come back at all.

They headed to a nearby inn; the only inn in the town, actually. Cloud wore his helmet and managed not to get noticed by anyone. They wouldn't be very happy to see him back, anyway – except for Tifa, probably, if she hadn't forgotten him already. But her house was miles away from here.

"We leave for the reactor at dawn. Make sure you get some sleep. And… oh, that's right. You may visit your family and friends," Sephiroth said to Cloud.

"Won't take long," Cloud told him. He didn't have a lot of places to go.

But he did go to visit his mother, who was living alone atop a hill, a little ways out of the village; they had been living in that tiny house ever since Cloud could remember, and after he left, his mother would have been alone, and that sends a pang of guilt to his mind.

He had to take a steadying breath before gathering up the courage to knock at the door. It was both familiar and very, very foreign, his own house that he'd lived for fourteen years. And he had been gone for only two years.

"Yes, I'm coming!" His mother called from inside. There was the sound of someone stumbling over something. Cloud winced; that had to hurt. But it was good to see (hear) that his mother hadn't changed.

"Yes, who's… Oh, God, Cloud!"

There was a flurry of blond hair, which was a shade darker than Cloud's, and then his mother threw herself over Cloud. Cloud noted with a surprise that he now had to look down on her. Just two years; but it felt longer.

"Welcome home, Cloud," she kissed his cheek. She had to stand on tiptoes to do it. Cloud thought it was weird, but if she noticed it, she didn't show.

"Hi, mom." Cloud couldn't help but smile. He couldn't say he'd missed the town, but this – mom pulled Cloud inside the house, fussing over everything like she'd always done.

"Come here, come here, let me have a look at you!"

There was an awkward moment in which she made him stand against the wall and then ran to the other side of the room to inspect him up and down. Her toes hit a frying pan that was arbitrarily lying on the floor on the way. She didn't seem to notice.

"You look so handsome! So is this the SOLDIER uniform?"

Cloud didn't remember what he said to that, exactly; the next memory had him tracing the patterns of the bed cover with his finger. Quilted, just like his memory; or maybe it was the other way around. His mother was leaning against the doorframe, with a smile on her face. Something was cooking at her back, packing the house with the smell.

"My, how you've grown. I'll be the girls never leave you alone."

Cloud almost laughed at that. "Not really."

"I'm worried about you. There's a lot of temptation in the city… I'd feel better if you just settled down and had a nice girlfriend, or something."

"… I'm alright."

"I'm thinking someone who's a little older than you. A nice, mature girl, who can take care of you – are you eating right?"

"Yeah. The company takes care of me." Cloud tried to smile, but his mother still looked worried.

"I worry, Cloud…"

Cloud? … You know… … Is that right?... I will always be your mother…

Something strange was happening; he'd reached the edge again, the edge of the cloth, sewn up with needles, not quite right. Came in pieces.

"What's wrong?" Barret asked, when Cloud abruptly stopped talking. Cloud shook his head, unable to explain. Holes – all he had were his mother's occasional responses, her light blue eyes and smiles.

"I can't remember much else," Cloud said. "It's not important, anyway, what we talked about."

"Are you okay, Cloud?" Aerith asked, frowning. Cloud thought, watching her green eyes flicker, how nice it would be to be so – unbroken. He yearned for that wholeness, something he thought Aerith must have. He tore his eyes away, but he felt a little calmer now.

"It's nothing. And then I – I went to your house too, Tifa, but you weren't there."

"I didn't know that," Tifa said, her expression strange; conflicted, but Cloud didn't know why.

"Yeah, well, I went back to the inn."

And Cloud had – unfortunately – forgotten his helmet back at his mother's house, which meant that people could now recognize him.

Which someone did, Mr. Jose, the innkeeper.

"You're with Shinra? Welcome… Oh, it's you, Cloud! I… didn't recognize you." Mr. Jose stared, longer than Cloud was comfortable with. Cloud cleared his throat.

"So… um, what do you need, Cloud?" It was Mrs. Jose, trying to be kind. Cloud wished they would just – act normal, drop the act, talk to him like they'd done before. Or hadn't done, he supposed, because people had avoided talking to him back then, if they could help it.

"Nothing much, I'm just waiting for – uh, what's going on in the town?" Cloud said, feeling awkward. Mr. Jose busied himself with wiping the already-clean counter.

"Well, a lot of monsters have been appearing – new kinds – for the last twelve months," Mrs. Jose said. "I'm guessing that's what brought you Shinra here."

"Yeah. It is."

Cloud expected the conversation to end there, but to his surprise, Mrs. Jose kept talking. She must have been really worried, Cloud thought.

"It was okay when they were still building the reactor… but once it was completed, it's been bad. Within a few months all the trees near the reactor died."

And Cloud tried very hard not to see – hear – the pleading in Mrs. Jose's voice, but it was as plain as day. It made him uncomfortable, a little angry, and Cloud excused himself hastily to go look for Sephiroth.

He found Sephiroth in his room, staring out the window with his back turned to Cloud.

"What are you looking at?" Cloud asked, stepping closer. There was nothing special about the view, as far as he could see.

"This scenery. I feel like I have seen it before."

"How would… you know my hometown, General?"

Sephiroth didn't answer, but Cloud had just shrugged it off, then. It wasn't unusual for Sephiroth to act strange sometimes.

What had been really strange, after all, was seeing Tifa the next morning. They were to meet their guide into the Nibel mountains (Cloud didn't think they needed one, but Sephiroth was all about proper orders of business), and Tifa had walked into the inn's hall, and the reality of it all (of it really happening, striking him raw) was just a little daunting.

"Cloud?"

Tifa's eyes went wide. Cloud recognized her smile, but she was just so – different. It had only been two years, but everything seemed to have changed. She'd grown taller; a little sharper, too.

"Tifa, you're the guide?"

"That's right. I just happen to be the best guide in the town."

"But there are monsters, and…" Cloud faltered. Tifa gave him a wide grin that was a little on the wicked side.

"I've been training, Cloud."

"Training?"

"There wouldn't be a problem if you protect her," Sephiroth said, smoothly cutting in. He looked a little amused, but mostly impatient. "Let's go."

"Wait, excuse me, General!" Someone interrupted them. "I'm a local journalist. Please let me take a photo of you with your group there!"

Sephiroth sighed; the cameraman, who Cloud didn't recognize, flinched, but that didn't stop him from fussing with their positions and finally taking an awkward picture.

"Wait…" The cameraman said suddenly, squinting his eyes. Sephiroth sighed again.

And, on second thought, Cloud realized that he did recognize the man, after all. Mr. Holland: his son, James, had been in Cloud's class.

"Are you… Cloud Strife?"

"I am, Mr. Holland," Cloud said.

"Really? Gosh, Cloud. You've grown up to be a nice-looking lad." Mr. Holland said, staring at him like he'd come back from the dead, instead of Midgar. Cloud squirmed under his scrutiny. Thankfully, Sephiroth (whose patience had reached a limit, which wasn't very high to begin with) rescued him.

"If that's all, we need to get started now."

"Oh, alright. Thank you, General. I'll give each of you a copy when I get it developed."

"That's fine." He looked at Tifa then, and she led them out of the inn to the Nibel mountain.

The road was rougher than Cloud remembered, but he picked up the pace quickly. He noted, with some secret pride, that some of the other SOLDIERS were having a harder time climbing the rocky mountain.

"It gets easier past –" Tifa, who'd been climbing ahead, stopped abruptly. "Wait, the bridge!"

Tifa was hardly done yelling when the bridge they were walking on started to rumble and shake dangerously.

"It's too late! Everybody just jump!" He heard Tifa shout, and looked down at the ominous, dark ravine below. Jump?

But the bridge was shaking, there was no choice anyway, and Cloud jumped.

"Everyone seems to be alright," Sephiroth's voice was disconnected in the dark, echoing off the ravine walls. Apparently, the ravine had looked more dangerous than it really was.

"Can we go back to where we were?" Sephiroth asked Tifa, the both of them dark silhouettes.

"No, but we don't need to. These caves are connected."

Then they walked in silence, stumbling through the darkness. There were greenish lights here and there, Mako glowing from within the rocks and ground. It didn't take long until they reached the reactor.

"Tifa, you wait here," Cloud said.

"But…"

"Only authorized people are allowed in," Sephiroth said, with finality. "This place is full of Shinra's industrial secrets."

Tifa shrugged at that, and stepped aside – to Cloud's surprise, because he remembered how stubborn she'd been as a little child.

The inside of the reactor was larger than Cloud had imagined. Thick wires and cords stuck out from the walls, from the floor, and Cloud had to take his steps carefully, so he didn't accidentally step on the wrong thing and cut the electricity, or something.

"Cloud, close the valve," said Sephiroth, without looking at him. He seemed distracted by something; Cloud went and closed the valve without saying anything.

Sephiroth was muttering to himself now, or so Cloud assumed. His voice had always been low, but amidst the humming and whirling of the machines, it was hard to tell apart the words.

"This is a system that condenses and freezes the Mako energy," he said suddenly, clearly, and Cloud startled. "Now – what does Mako energy become when it further condensed?"

"It becomes a Materia," Cloud answered. Sephiroth nodded, absently.

"Yes. Normally. But Hojo put something else in it… Take a look. Look through the window."

Cloud did; a little hesitantly, because even if Sephiroth's face was impassive and hard to read, he had a feeling that he was going to regret this. And he did – Cloud looked back at Sephiroth, face distorting.

"Wh – what is this?"

Sephiroth didn't answer straight away. "Typical SOLDIERS are humans that have been showered with Mako. You are different from the others – civilians – but still humans."

"But then – what are they?"

"They've been exposed to a higher degree of Mako, far more than you."

"Is this some kind of a… monster?" Cloud was almost afraid to ask, more because of how Sephiroth looked than anything else. There was a strange glimmer in his eyes, absorbing and not reflecting the green light of the Mako.

"Exactly," Sephiroth said. "And it's Hojo that produced these… monsters. Mutated… organisms produced by Mako energy."

Mutated organisms produced by Mako energy. Cloud repeated it in his head. His mind spun in violent green.

And then, just like that – like some switch being turned on – everything changed.

He heard a soft click of tongue beside him. Then a voice: the low, grave voice that Cloud thought he knew well, that he would've – perhaps – died for, if asked, once upon a time. It was different, though, turned upside down and unrecognizable.

"No. No, was I?"

Sephiroth's voice was barely a whisper. Cloud didn't know what he was talking about, but couldn't breathe enough to ask. He knew, in that single moment, that he was more afraid of his – friend – standing right in front of him than he had been (and would be) scared of anything else in his life.

"Was I created this way too?"

"Sephiroth?" Cloud finally choked. He found that he'd taken a step back without meaning to. Suddenly, the huge reactor wasn't so huge anymore. There was almost no breathing room. Sephiroth turned to him, green eyes blazing with (madness, fury, something raw) the intensity of his stare.
"Tell me, Cloud. Was I?"

Cloud was overwhelmed again, but it wasn't like the last time; he hadn't reached an edge. It was the dead center of the flame, his eyes too close to the fire to see anything else. Strange, though, that he felt so overwhelmed and detached at the same time. Strange that he couldn't remember what he felt at the time; what he felt now was tainted by the knowledge of the after-events.

"We returned to Nibelheim," he heard himself speak. "Sephiroth confined himself at the inn. He didn't even talk to me."

"Then – all of a sudden – he disappeared, right?" Tifa said. Cloud nodded. She would remember; the whole town was turned upside down, all the SOLDIERS looking for the missing General. Bursting into houses, running through streets.

They found him, finally, in the biggest building in Nibelheim. Strangely enough, it had been the last place they checked. The villagers used to call it the Shinra Mansion.

Cloud remembered walking up the gate, the metal rusted brown and stiff. The big double door that had never been locked; but no one would go inside, because it was the kind of place that Cloud thought even ghosts would avoid.

He took a deep breath, pushed open the door.

And then – that was when the nightmare really began, wasn't it?

"… An organism that was apparently dead was found in a two thousand year-old geological stratum. Professor Gast named that organism Jenova…"

"Sephiroth!"

His voice didn't reach Sephiroth.

"Jenova confirmed to be an Ancient. … Jenova Project approved. The use of Mako Reactor One approved…"

Sephiroth closed the journal he'd been reading from and let it drop on the carpet. Dust flew in swirls around the book.

"My mother's name is Jenova. Jenova Project… Is this just a coincidence? Professor Gast… why didn't you tell me anything? Why did you die?" He kept muttering. A short laugh, but his face was distorted. Cloud didn't know what to do, how to save him – because it was clear, whatever this was, he needed to be saved. Or else – it wouldn't just be him, drowning.

"Sephiroth!"

Sephiroth's head turned and he faced Cloud.

"Who is this? A traitor."

"What? A traitor?" Cloud asked, wondering if it wouldn't be wise just to run away right now and never look back. But he knew that he couldn't, even though he wanted to.

"You. You are a traitor, and you don't even know it. I'll tell you. Cetra was an itinerant race." Sephiroth took a step closer, Cloud took a step back. "They would migrate, settle a planet, and then move on… At the end of their harsh journey, they would find the Promised Land and supreme happiness. Except… there were people who took what the Cetra and the planet made, without giving anything back in return. Those were your ancestors."

"My ancestors?"

"Long ago, disaster struck this planet. Your ancestors escaped. They survived, because they went into hiding This planet was saved by sacrificing the Cetra."

"What does that have to do with you?" Cloud was confused, desperate; he kept searching for a way for this to end, found none.

"Don't you get it?" Sephiroth shook his head. "An Ancient named Jenova as found in the geological stratum of two thousand years ago. The Jenova Project. The Jenova Project's objective was to produce people with the powers of the Ancients – no, the Cetra – I am the one that was produced."

"Produced? Wh – what do you mean?"

"Out of my way," Sephiroth walked past him, and even though he wasn't walking that fast, Cloud couldn't stop him. "I am going to see my mother."

Sephiroth had a twisted smile on his lips. He's gone mad – Cloud realized, a force in his chest. He couldn't move. There was a vague feeling of desperation, detached from his body; clutching at his responsibility, to put an end to – he made himself move, and follow Sephiroth.

And he stopped, just outside the mansion, stared at the town that was dying.

He didn't think he'd stood in shock for a very long time, but apparently it was enough time for Sephiroth to start, take out the fire in his eyes and burn everything, everybody, indiscriminately. Traitors, Cloud heard him say.

The flames were everywhere. It was hotter inside his skin than outside, though, scalding his skin and tearing out muscles. All he saw was red… Soaked in boiling blood, everywhere, not even a scream – had everyone died already?

He didn't remember much after that. It was odd; everything up until that point had been clear, like he was back there watching the world burn. It was like the memory of his visit to his mother. Pieces, holes, empty spaces: Cloud saw, fleetingly, Tifa crying, Mr. Holland's face burnt, peeled, and Sephiroth staring up at Jenova.

Jenova had been inside a glass cage that was full of Mako. Cloud also saw Tifa grabbing a sword, shouting and running at Sephiroth. Sephiroth didn't even look back when he slashed his sword behind his back, slicing Tifa and blood spilled, less dramatically than Cloud was expecting, and then he was running.

Which was stupid, because he didn't have a sword. Except, somehow, he saw himself grabbing the hilt of his buster sword. He thought someone might have handed it to him, but no – there was no one else there, inside the Reactor, and who could've had his sword?

Didn't matter, anyway, because when he was running at Sephiroth, all he smelled was the fire and he hadn't expected to live. But he would take down Sephiroth with him.

"So what happened to Sephiroth?" Aerith asked. For a minute, Cloud thought that was only half the question – but then again, maybe not, because wasn't he sitting here in front of her, alive? Cloud shook his head. He was getting confused again.

"I don't… really remember. I thought I killed him, but obviously not."

Aerith looked like she wanted to argue that, but Tifa interrupted.

"Official reports say that Sephiroth is dead. I read it in the newspaper."

"Shinra owns the paper. You can't rely on that sorta information." Barret said.

"So what really happened?" Red XIII asked.

"I don't know. And that's what I want to find out."

There was a short silence. Then Barret sighed, loudly, filling up the whole room. Cloud had forgotten about the rain, but it was in the room too, damp air and heavy smell.

"Damn, don't none of this make sense," Barret complained.

"Maybe we should get some rest for tonight," Aerith finally suggested, to which Tifa nodded wearily.

"Yes, it's been a – long day."

Cloud nodded, too. Only this morning, he'd fallen into Aerith's church, and that felt like such a long time ago. He was suddenly very tired. Everything had changed so much in a single day; President Shinra was dead, Sephiroth was alive, and he had a feeling that his nightmares weren't over yet. Waking dreams. He had empty places in his head and mismatched edges. There was so much that he had to know.

But for now, like Aerith said, he would get some rest. Cloud wondered if she was as confused as he was, if she was lying awake in the room next door staring at the ceiling, the rain casting shadows on it.

At least she wouldn't have to listen to Barret's snoring, he thought, as he lay on his side and tried to block out the noise.