Aerith didn't care for the rain at first - It was a reminder that she was further from home than usual and closer to a building that had kept her and her mother prisoner for years. The phenomenon's only saving grace happened to be the low clouds that blocked out the otherwise infinite sky, hiding her from whatever had taken away the people she loved.

Today's flower sales had been cut short by the dreary weather. Midgar's neon lights mirrored across a myriad of puddles, makeshift spells against the darkness disturbed by ripples, a sign that the droplets had begun to intensify from a shower to a storm.

For now, Aerith was only a little damp. She'd backed off the main street and under an awning in a nearby alley. The nine pm bell sounded faintly in the distance, interrupted by a growl of thunder. She had wanted to stay out until at least eleven. If she went back now, Elmyra would still be awake, ready to scold her for sneaking out.

She let out a low sigh and traced the toe of her boot along the lines of the cobblestone. There was always the church to fall back to; the option to replant what had not yet been sold as to try and extend its life a little further. Either that, or she could try to jump out into the rain and offer her last lot at a discount.

'A home is better than a lonely death,' she thought, nodded to psych herself up, then began a short jog back to the main street.

From his perch in the shadows of a fire escape, Tseng exhaled. He had hoped that her moment of reflection would have resulted in an early night for the both of them, but years of experience knew better. The Turk dropped soundlessly down from his vantage point and followed along the walls, careful to stay out of both sight and element.

Every day was a fight with her. A fight with himself. Rationale dictated that he simply make his presence known, hand her an umbrella, and encourage her to go home. That was what a friend would do. Yet, that was not his role. He was Shinra; her enemy, her guard dog, and her warden. The conflict within urged him to keep a distance, that it might be easier to fight his desire to be close to her.

Increasingly, he had assigned Reno and Rude to watch her, finding this the only way to get solace from the intrusive thoughts that threatened to break apart the tumultuous relationship he already shared with the Ancient. Some days, he felt as if watching her was already too invasive. Her freedom was already forfeit, her privacy laughable. Even in moments where he wanted to look away, he would not. Tseng's gaze followed her sharply, noting every detail and trying to unravel her intentions without having to exchange a word.

When Aerith lifted her best barker's voice to try and attract a few passersby for her flowers, it became more obvious than it needed to be. Part of him could not understand it; her desperation to see these blooms off to people who would only let them die in a day or discard them into a wastebin instead of letting them return directly to the planet. Romance had never been his strong suit, but he did understand death.

"It would be a shame if they never experienced love before returning to the planet." Aerith's voice had lowered, now barely audible against the rain that threatened to drown both her and the blooms that sagged slightly in her basket. He watched her cradle them against her chest, observed the frustrated rise and fall of her breath as she began to acknowledge the losing battle.

She was frustrated, as anyone would be in the face of defeat. Her eyes welled with heated raindrops and her heart sank with berate. What had she been thinking, subjecting the flowers to this kind of humiliation? To the weight of the sky? Aerith bit her lip and turned on her heel to leave before a clumsy voice caught her attention.

"Uh, excuse me, miss?"

The flower seller turned to see an umbrella-equipped Shinra businessman approaching her with a palm full of gil. He seemed both embarrassed and nervous; his gaze flitted between the left, right, and her face. Not once did she see him look at her flowers.

"I'd like to buy the rest of your flowers," he began, thrusting his money-laden hand in her direction. "H-How much?"

She should have been elated, but the timing was not lost on her. Aerith gave the man a coy smile, sweeping her basket of flowers behind her back and leaning towards him with all the charm of a sodden angel.

"I'll give them to you for free, if you can tell me what color they are!"

Terror flashed across the Shinra employee's eyes. "T-They were green? The stems, were, I mean-"

"Bzzzt!" Aerith interrupted him playfully, then plucked one delicate yellow bloom from the bunch and raised it to the man's eyes. "That answer doesn't count! They were yellow-the color of happiness." With sadness hidden behind a smile, she delicately reached for his empty hand, lifted it, and placed the bloom within his palm. "You can only have one, I'm afraid. Please take care of it. Hopefully, it will help you think of better days."

Tseng had briefly debated taking his money back from the middle-manager after the failed transaction, but Aerith was already on the move, headed back towards the station to the lower plate. Not missing a beat, he made a mental note to mark it as a company expense later, and resumed his tail from a distance.

He wondered briefly if it was partially his fault that she had become so good at reading people, or if it was merely the hobby of someone searching for answers in a world not willing to give many.

"I know you're there, Tseng." Aerith's voice caught his attention, but it was his name upon her lips that caused his body to involuntarily halt its advance. He watched as she stopped in the middle of the alley, balling her fists around the handle of her basket as she awaited a reply she knew would not come.

"If you're that worried about my flowers," she continued, and he recognized the frustration and growing anger in her voice," then you should come buy them yourself. Not pay someone else to do it."

'I would only kill them,' he answered in his own mind, not giving her the chance to fight back. Tseng's work left him little time to tend to such niceties, even though he knew well how to care for them based on his years of observation. He could mimic her actions perfectly; knew how to cut the stems, exactly how much water to use, how much plant food. He mused on this for a moment in her silence, wondering if it was simply that he didn't care to watch another thing die. Not something that she had loved, anyway. Not like-

"No." Her voice interrupted his thoughts almost as if she could hear them and Tseng willed his mind as quiet as his body.

"I'm not doing this today," Aerith continued firmly, carrying her basket of flowers over to nearby cover and setting it down away from the harsh elements. She then marched back into the middle of the alley and sat purposefully in a puddle, folding her arms. "I'm not moving from this spot until you talk to me. I'm not. I'll stay here all night. I'll catch a cold, I don't care."

Tseng pinched his nose bone. It was going to be one of those nights. Part of him hesitated as he considered calling in a favor from one of the other Turks, knowing they would have an easier time disarming her than he would. It was already late, however, and the odds that anyone not already at the office would be willing to take over on such short notice were slim.

It was the war within that kept him from responding to her immediately. Part of him felt ashamed by the necessity that made her sit there longer than he wanted her to, just to drive home the point that he was her enemy, and she should not want him around like this.

Aerith was freezing, frustrated, and formidable. She kept her shoulders straight and her eyes forward, impatiently waiting for the rain above her head to stop. It was impossible for her to hear Tseng approaching, even though she thought the puddles should have exposed his stride. His umbrella coming over her head was an exercise in futility and she was certain they both knew it. Slowly, she looked up at him, very much debating just wringing out her skirt over his expensive shoes to punish him for making her wait, but the sight of his stern brown eyes gave her pause.

She waited for him to speak, but as usual nothing ever came, only his polite proffering of a gloved hand to help her off the ground. Again the anger stirred in the pit of her belly, and she daydreamed about yanking him off balance to crash his perfectly dry self into a puddle. How she longed to ruin that image of him that lived in her head; So impassable, so sturdy.

"Don't you have something to say to me?" Aerith huffed after a moment, her gaze redirected to his hand so that she wouldn't get lost in his eyes.

"Get up off the ground," he answered, his tone unreadable but enough Turk coming out in his command that she visibly flinched. He must have noticed, because she heard him soften slightly as he added in the word: "...Please."

Her fingers slid over the leather of his grip before she felt his support guiding her to her feet. Now that she had successfully lured him out, she hardly knew what to say to him. His presence from a distance was familiar, but up close... they hadn't had many opportunities as of late for her to pry at him. She wondered if that was his choice, or if-

Her sudden loss for words meant that he was going to have to take the lead. Without needing to give it any thought, he extended the umbrella towards her.

"Hold this," he began, then specified. "Over both of us."

Surprisingly, Aerith did as he asked of her, allowing him a moment to shrug out of his suit jacket. Tseng retrieved the umbrella from her, not missing the way her eyes immediately focused onto his now-exposed shoulder holster and the weapons thereupon. Using his free hand, he held the garment towards her, biting back the urge to explain himself as she tried to lure more words out of him. He didn't need to say it: Every part of her body language, from her folded arms to her scrunched neck, the goosebumps on her flesh to the way she trembled; all of it screamed that she was cold.

"...Keep it," Aerith murmured after a long moment, eyes sinking slowly away from him as she tried to step out from under the umbrella to go retrieve her flower basket. He followed close behind, not letting any further drops to hit her head, even as a few began to crest the shoulder of his white shirt.

"Aerith," he began, sternly, but she cut him off.

"No. Don't 'Aerith' me. If you were that worried about me being wet, then you should have-"

His stomach twisted with foul counters. This was a nerve of his that she frequently liked to compress, and there was only so much of it that he was willing to tolerate.

"You wanted to get wet," he corrected her, careful to keep his patience in check. "I am simply ensuring that you do not catch a cold."

"Yeah. That would be real inconvenient for you, wouldn't it? Would that show up poorly on your yearly review? 'Progress on the promise land halted because the Ancient got sick'-"

"Aerith, that's enough." Tseng's tone was dark. He would not plead with her. He would play the role she asked of him, so long as it was truly what she wanted.

She gave him a long, steady look, but he could see the traces of tears at the corner of her eyes and his jaw tightened, withholding an apology for his demeanor. Her hand snapped out to take his jacket from him, and he made no fight, simply let her have it, watching as she pulled it on one clumsy sleeve at a time. It was too large for her shoulders and too long for her arms but served its purpose of giving some relief, as evidenced by the light sigh she released.

Content to leave their exchange in the alley to die, Tseng gestured forward with his free hand, encouraging her to start walking. She did so, not taking the lead but remaining evenly at his side, matching his stride where she could. The length of his longer steps seemed to strain her, so he slowed his pace slightly, both of them taking in the evening's quiet, aside from the raindrops that tapped impatiently on their umbrella.

"It would be better if you dried off before riding the train," he began, eyes on her but senses trained to the world around them. "There's a boutique on the way to the station that is still open for another fifteen minutes. We can get you a change of clothes there."

"Tseng."

"What?"

Aerith furrowed her brow. Part of her had just wanted him to answer. It didn't matter with what. Shinra or not, Turk or not, his presence eased her loneliness. She didn't mean to treat him so harshly, but it wasn't as though he was making it easy to get along with him. It frustrated her how good he was at getting under her skin; how he often just let her fail without giving her the help to succeed. So many moments in her life, it felt like he had just been there at the wrong time.

"I don't need clothes," she answered, just to keep him from looking at her too closely. Aerith paused in consideration, noting that he wouldn't likely appreciate being caught in public with his weapons now fully visible. "...how long will you stay with me, like this?" The question felt so much bigger than she had meant it to, yet no less valid.

"Until the station. Then I will follow from a distance," Tseng's reply was professional and without hesitation. Aerith frowned.

"I..." What would he think if she told him she didn't want him to go yet? That she didn't really want to go home, that she just wanted to go to the church and lay next to the flowers?

He, to his credit, seemed to pick up on the obvious part of this: "You don't wish to go home yet."

"No."

His shift would not end until she was safely asleep, but he did not begrudge her what freedom she felt she had. It was for that reason that he did his best not to interfere with her ideas, and to merely protect her from the consequences of her actions, as opposed to preventing the actions entirely.

"To the church, then?" he asked, taking a moment to read her frame for indications of what her words would not express. Her steps had grown heavier and her posture more sagged as a result of having been soaked for so long. She had refused the change of clothes but to continue letting her go on like this would be irresponsible. On top of that, she seemed to be moving even more slowly than simple pain would merit, an indication that she was stalling for time.

In a wordless answer, he felt her lean her shoulder to his arm, closing the small amount of distance between them. He noted that she kept her gaze away from him, a wise way of masking her expression, but the gesture was enough. Tseng retrieved his phone from his pocket and began to dial a number.

"What are you-" Aerith began, but he cradled his phone against his shoulder and hushed her by putting his finger before his lips.

"Yes, It's me," he began, leaving Aerith to only hear his side of the conversation "I need my car brought to 7th Street SE. Immediately. Understood."

"Caller ID?" queried his companion; curiously watching as Tseng flipped the phone closed and slipped it back into his pocket.

"The operator knows me well. She has no need to verify."

Aerith blinked slowly, wondering exactly what that turn of phrase meant. "Knows you...well?"

"They'll be here in ten minutes. For now, you should get off your feet." He gestured to a nearby covered bus stop and escorted her under its shelter, closing the umbrella and sitting next to her.

"Aren't you worried this is too public?" she asked honestly, gaze flitting between him and the open road. Not many cars were about at this hour, but enough coasted past to remind her that they were no longer alone.

"That is for me to worry about, not you."

"What changed your mind?" Basket safely balanced on the bench beside her, Aerith instead busied her hands with Tseng's jacket as it continued to warm her. The buttons rolled under her fingertips and she admired the stitching as a way to keep her hands busy. "About letting me ride the train?"

"Your refusal to change clothes. A wet girl wearing an expensive jacket on a late night train will draw too much attention."

Aerith puffed her cheeks slightly, having found one too many things wrong with his statement. "Firstly, I'm not a GIRL-"

"Young lady," he corrected smoothly.

"-SECONDLY, of course it's just business..."

"It is always 'just business'," Tseng agreed, though Aerith could swear his voice was a little quieter than before.

Their exchange led to a semi-comfortable silence. Tseng was no longer staring directly at her, eyes instead trained towards the road to watch for his car. She took the opportunity to observe him for a minute, the rigidity of his posture and the way his hair refused to stay as neat as his suit, little pieces escaping here and there to fringe just near his ear. Her attention caught onto one particular piece of hair that had wound about his stud earring, and not being able to unsee it, she slowly reached up to dislodge it, only to have him reflexively grab her hand.

Aerith jumped a little in her seat, having not expected him to be so on edge while his attention seemed elsewhere. When his eyes met hers and beheld her surprise, he immediately let go of her, quietly staring until she yielded an explanation.

"Your hair-" she began, then found her nerve and boldly swatted his hand away. "Just, let me-" Having gained his trust, Tseng looked forward once more, allowing Aerith to do the delicate work of unraveling the strands from his earring.

He felt a negligible amount of pain as she carefully tugged to dislodge a lock near his ear. Tseng felt it incredibly strange, if nothing else, that she had been looking at him close enough to notice something so trite. Still, he supposed gratitude was due, and parted his lips to thank her before closing them once more as her fingers continued to touch him, sweeping more loose strands behind his ear. Her breath touched his neck for a moment as she leaned in closer to make sure nothing else was caught, and he froze more so than his usual rigid posture, for a moment letting his senses ignore the rest of the world and instead focused on the feeling of her pressed up against his arm.

"Tseng-" she began so quietly that he worried he may have misheard her. "How did you not notice that?"

Her words hit him like Blizzaga, disrupting the heat that had begun to rise within him, and abruptly he stood, leaving her behind on the bench and taking a step towards the edge of the bus stop. His formal Turk posture returned, a safeguard against his muddied emotions, one arm folded sharply behind his back and the other at his side.

"It simply was not important," he answered, staring forward into the night as he listened to her movements behind him. The evening's chill seemed more apparent than ever.

Sensing that he was withdrawing back into 'nothing but business' mode, Aerith fell to an uncomfortable silence on the bench, drawing her knees to her chest as she let her eyes fall off Tseng and joined him in watching the road. The sleek black car they had been waiting for pulled up a few moments later, followed by a less expensive looking vehicle, and Aerith remained on the bench as she watched the driver swap into the other car and be taken away.

For the first time since he'd stood, Tseng turned to look at her, gesturing that she come get in the car as he moved to open the passenger side door for her. Aerith was still considerably damp, but the dry air under the umbrella and in the bus stop had helped her become less of a walking wet mop, so she made no qualms about climbing onto the plush leather seat. Initially, she attempted to put her flower basket between her feet, but Tseng wordlessly lifted it from her and set it on the floor behind her, where it would not be rattled during transit.

He joined her in the car, not asking what she needed but making presumptions. Aerith squirmed a bit when she felt the heated seat click on beneath her, and she sighed audibly at the relief of the chill suddenly chasing from her bones. While she was preoccupied with the warmth, Tseng had clicked the seat belt on over her and turned the vents to give her proper airflow during the drive.

This wasn't the first time she'd been in Tseng's car, but the occurrences were very few and far between. His driving was expectedly controlled, though she did notice he had a habit of accelerating on the turns that occasionally gave her stomach butterflies.

"Did you ever have to be a getaway driver?" Aerith asked hazily, half-lidded eyes staring out the side window of the car as it entered the Midgar Expressway.

Tseng quirked a brow, not taking his eyes off the road to look at her: "What kind of a question is that?"

"You know. During your Turks stuff. If you have to make a getaway and go really, really fast... did you have to be the one to drive?"

Tseng could recall several instances in which he'd had to push a vehicle to his limits, but none of them were stories he particularly wanted to share with her. Most of them did not have happy endings.

"That's classified," he answered easily, ready to repeat himself if she chose to pursue the matter. To his gratitude, she did not.

"Will you teach me how to drive?"

"No," Tseng answered abruptly.

"Wow. Zeeeero hesitation. Afraid I'll get away from you?" Aerith teased.

His fear was more that she would hurt herself, but his fears had no place in the world between them. "Yes," he answered, just to placate her.

If she believed him or not, he could not tell. She made a low noise in the back of her throat then turned over in the seat, laying on it in a direction that now faced him.

"Are you tired?" came her next curious inquiry.

"That is not for you to be concerned about."

"It was a yes or no question, Tseng."

"No."

Aerith hummed thoughtfully. "Does that mean it's your night to watch me? Will you be here all night?"

He was so focused on construction and a traffic merge on the road that for a moment, he forgot to be vague: "Only until you fall asleep."

"And if I stay up all night?"

His eyes snapped towards her as he realized he'd said something he hadn't meant to. She gave him a chesire grin, obviously having realized this, herself.

"You won't. You're already tired," he concluded after a moment, returning his expression to neutral and taking the next exit for the underplate.

Aerith sat up straight in her seat as she always did when they took this exit. Something about the upper plate swallowing up the sky right in front of her eyes always demanded her attention. It should have been foreboding, but she instead felt herself exhale a sigh of relief, as if a sort of danger had passed. The sights and sounds of the rain faded into her memory as they left it behind.

"...Are you all right?" Tseng asked beside her, having noted the sigh.

"Hm? Yeah. We're going to the church, right?"

Tseng said nothing for a moment, and that was all she needed to know.

"Tseng-" Aerith protested, balling up both her fists. "I don't want to go home yet!"

"You're tired and cold-"

"I'm fine now! The jacket and the car have warmed me up!"

"-You need to shower, and rest. Elmyra is undoubtedly worried."

"Yeah, and if YOU drop me off, she'll be even MORE worried! Come on, Tseng, you KNOW I can't go back there like this-"

"I'm sure a bit of scolding will not keep you down for long. There is always tomorrow. You can head to the church then."

"But, the flowers-" Aerith protested, the pout laden in her voice.

"Next time," Tseng began, the barest hint of an upturn at the corner of his lips, "Do not play in the rain."

The ride became bumpier as they drove through Sector 5. The roads here were worse for wear, the street lights in various states of ill repair, and anyone unfamiliar with the area would have had an awful time finding their way to the Leaf House. Tseng parked the car here, instead of driving it up to the short road to Aerith's house, and he exited the car to open the door for her.

When Aerith refused to get out of the car, instead sitting there with her arms folded as if her protest would win out against him once again, Tseng opened up the door to the back seat and retrieved her flower basket. With it as his hostage, he began walking towards her house, not sparing a look back at her in the car.

It took almost a minute before he heard her boots scuffle against the ground, and the angry echo of his car door getting slammed shut with prejudice. Tseng dipped his free hand into his pocket, clicking the keys to make the alarm on his car beep, and the way Aerith yelped at being scolded by his vehicle made him crack a smile he was glad she could not see from behind him.

Her hurried footsteps came up behind him, at first stomping and then in genuine speed, as she attempted to grab the flower basket from him before they could reach a view of her home. Her haste and lack of proper footing due to her soggy, aching feet led to a misstep, and Tseng once more let his reflexes take over, turning abruptly to catch Aerith by the waist before she could hit the ground.

Her body fell limp against him, eyes wide as she looked up at him, fingers digging into his shirt for purchase. His expression softened as he gazed down at her, arm holding strong while he waited for her to right her footing.

"Are you all right?" he asked again, the concern heartfelt and sincere.

The look in his eyes made her heart hurt. He tried so hard not to show how much he cared, but in the moments like these, it was too easy for her to feel close to him. Was it wrong, to want to stay like this for a moment? Was it wrong for her to want him to keep her company? To make her laugh? His employment for Shinra was a bitter pill, but she'd already learned that not everyone who worked there was bad. Not everyone was like Hojo and his assistants. For that reason, she found it impossible to hate him.

He wasn't letting her go. He was letting her choose when to move.

Aerith found herself holding her breath as she debated the pressure of the choice before her. Tseng was clearly trying to keep his distance, but why? Was it really all just business to him? Was the gentleness in his gaze just another side of his professionalism?

Part of her wanted to know. And another part... was afraid of that answer.

She had taken too long to respond, so she felt Tseng shift her weight more against him.

"Did you hurt your ankle?" he queried, attempting to turn his neck to better examine her posture. Afraid that he would become serious and stoic once again, Aerith reacted with her body instead of her words. She slipped her arms around his waist abruptly, pulling him into a tight hug as she steadied her feet to take her weight off of him. Her heart thrummed nervously in her chest as she awaited his reaction to the simple gesture. Would he just pull her off? Discard her and her feelings in the name of work? She flinched and hid her face against his chest.

Wasn't it natural to want to be close to someone? Didn't a part of him want that, too? Perhaps not from her, but-

Time had frozen. Tseng felt as though his heart had stopped. The sound of the night breeze carried through the trees like the last lingering note of a bittersweet melody. Every detail burned itself into his memory; the way her head tucked against his chest, under his chin; the scent of wet earth and fresh flowers; the way her arms clung about his waist, trembled but trusting.

Why. Why would she trust him?

Why would she-

His mind reeled. He hadn't hugged her in years. Not since they were both too young and naive to think anything of it. Sure, she'd hung on his arm from time to time, just as she had with Zack, but this was different.

Part of him wanted to take her by the shoulders and put enough distance between them that he might discern through expression alone what this meant to her. What it meant to her, in his mind, was all that mattered. His own feelings were irrelevant. Yet, that irrelevancy made his limbs feel so heavy that they ached; the one arm that had been holding her up remained about her waist, albeit loosely now. His other stung at his side, begging to be moved.

He should push her away. For her sake.

Slowly, he began to take a step back, only to feel her grip against him tighten.

"Please," he heard her whisper, though he could not begin to understand what she was asking from him. He did not trust his own voice to ask her to elaborate; not as his heart pounded nearly out of his chest, fighting his own reflexes.

He wanted to embrace her. But he had no right to desire that. Not him. Not Shinra. Not her enemy.

Aerith's voice was barely a soft white whisper in the evening air, yet he felt her speak against him, only to him, only for him, in the lack of distance between them: "I want to know what you really want. Not Shinra. Not the Turks. Just... you. Just Tseng."

He closed his eyes. This wasn't permission, nor was it vindication. Her acceptance wouldn't save him from what he had done, nor what he still had to do. He had no right to answer her, to touch her, to feel anything for her. Yet, his control was not as absolute as he wanted everyone to believe.

He still felt. He still wanted. He would still do anything it took to keep her safe. That was what was important.

After what felt like an eternity, Aerith felt Tseng's other arm wrap around her waist to join the first. He did not clutch her tightly as she did him; his arms merely encircled her, barely enough to brush the fabric of his jacket comfortingly along her back. He leaned forward against her ear and whispered only one thing;

"That is classified."

She felt her heart ache, but at least for this moment, she didn't feel lonely. He was right here with her, both of them bound to responsibilities that extended far beyond them. Even if he wouldn't open up to her in this moment, it did not mean he never would. Part of her wondered if he even needed to. She hadn't told Zack everything, but she had cared about him just the same. Aerith wondered if it was the same with Tseng. Could she care for him, even not knowing the shadows at his back? Was it enough to just exist in a moment? She supposed time would tell.

Strangely at ease, Aerith finally stepped back from him, slowly shrugging out of his jacket and offering it to him in trade for her flower basket.

"...You parked at the Leaf House so you wouldn't be seen walking me home, right? Thanks. Guess I'll just get half a lecture then."

Tseng folded his jacket politely under his arm instead of putting it back on. "I'll see you to the door. I'll just stay out of sight."

"Yeah." Aerith nodded, back in familiar territory. She wondered if she'd ever be able to get this close to him again. "You're probably not in charge of me tomorrow, are you?"

"I'm always in charge of you," Tseng answered smoothly. "You know I'm not supposed to discuss schedules with you."

Aerith wasn't about to tell him that Reno always told her whose day it was and when they started. She just gave Tseng a slight smile. "I guess this is goodnight, then?"

He nodded, adjusting his glove and resuming his usual posture. "Goodnight, Aerith."

"Goodnight, Tseng." She took a few steps past the empty lot on the way to her home, then turned and looked at him over her shoulder. He was still standing right in the middle of the path where she could see him. Aerith somehow appreciated that more than she thought he knew. "Thank you. For the ride. And the jacket."

Tseng watched her from the open until she broke line of sight by rounding a corner. He slipped into the shadows and closed the distance swiftly thereafter, the sudden momentum proving a good way to clear both his lungs and his head after their more intimate exchange.

He remained just out of sight enough where he could watch Elmyra greet Aerith at the door with an earful. It was easy to read their lips so he hung on every word unnecessarily, then wandered back into the garden once the door was safely sealed with the Ancient inside.

Tseng did not leave right away. He waited, as he always did, until the light of Aerith's bedroom window clicked on and off, indicating that she was turning in for the night. He had been about to depart when he saw the door to her balcony inch open. She stepped out into the moonlight, fresh from a shower, hair no longer in its trademark braid, dressed in simple pink sleepwear.

He observed a while longer in curiosity, still well hidden from her view, watching as she took each of the flowers still left in her basket and resettled them into a planter to give them a bit more fresh air and food before they were due to be sold.

Once they were tended, she stepped to the edge of the balcony and for a moment, he was certain her eyes had found his, despite him being completely hidden. Aerith's soft and mysterious smile graced him for the barest of instants, before she turned and went back inside to head to bed.

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Author's Note: This was written for Tserith week 2024 as a thank you to all the writers, artists, renderers, and enjoyers of the fandom. Thank you for what you do. I hope I could bring you a smile. This interpretation of the characters is influenced not only by the mainline games, but also the novels and Aerith's character story on the mobile game Ever Crisis.