Fuhito leads the way through a steel-plated corridor that makes Zack twitchy.
Although the construction is different, it has the same cold, soulless quality as the laboratory walls, looming and intrusive as if they might creep a few millimeters closer if they aren't watched.
"With the Treaty of Huishan, all of Wutai was declared a demilitarized zone. Bases run by both parties were abandoned, and most fell into disrepair," Fuhito explains.
"But not this one," Zack says.
"This one was never known by Shinra, but if it were maintained and discovered later then the entire ceasefire could be called into question. The new government labeled it a liability, and sought other parties who could be entrusted with its care."
"Enter, Avalanche."
"Indeed." Fuhito nods at a pair of saluting guards as they pass through an open gate. "For Wutai it was only a weapons cache, but we've renovated to suit."
They pass under an arch and into a rotunda, a many-leveled tube carved out from the mountain with the rails and cables of a freight elevator suspended in the center.
Iron walkways connect the center to the sides at each level like steel arms, and only by squinting can Zack make out the spinning blades of four massive fans pulling in fresh air from the dome.
Pale shafts of light shine through the grates and crossbeams, painting criss-cross shadows across the main floor and Zack himself. Distant figures cross a walkway above, the size of toy soldiers from so far away, and the elevator cables start to move.
He catches a glimpse of Maria and Cloud as the car lifts off from the ground level.
"How rude, they've left us behind." Fuhito points to a walkway two floors up. "Our destination is on the East side of Level 3. We shall have to wait until the elevator is available."
"No way," Zack sighs, rubbing his forehead with clammy fingers. "You really only have one?"
"I did say it was a retro-fit." The commander points to the four cardinal directions, where hallways extend into the rock.
"We call these the Four Quarters, each one dedicated to a specific purpose. North for Weaponry, East for Health and Fitness, South for Lodging, and West for Admin and Logistics. If you should lose your way, follow the sound of the fans and you'll arrive back here swiftly."
Eying the arches and the multilingual signs above each, Zack crosses his arms and mutters a thanks. Maybe it's a stupid oversight, but he wasn't expecting such a big operation.
A base, sure, some low-level security and maybe a few blast doors, but this? Finding one man in this behemoth could take weeks.
Tapping his foot with restless energy, he silences his doubts and forces his heart to stop hammering with sheer force of will. The elevator stops with a roar of gears, and Maria pushes Cloud onto the landing. He waves his hands, but Cloud doesn't see. He calls in the bond but Maria's chattering must be louder.
Instead of coming back down, the elevator moves upward, to the people far up who hailed it.
"May I ask a somewhat prying question?" Fuhito says.
"Why not, everyone else is."
The commander studies his face, and gives another of his mild, emotionless smiles.
"I see I upset you. Perhaps it can be a trade then? One question for another."
Zack crosses his arms. "How nice of you."
"I fear my compatriot might have started us off on the wrong foot. I only mean to correct that, if I may."
Nerves tighten Zack's fists but he can't find a logical reason for it. The guy's being polite, and he did intervene in what had felt very much like an interrogation, regardless of how Elfe described it. And yet, his body remains ready for fight. There's just something in the atmosphere here that Zack doesn't trust. A feeling of deja vu.
"Ok, go ahead," he says wearily, his eyes stuck to the platform where Cloud and Maria disappeared.
He supposes there are the things he needs to know if he's going to go through with this. The security protocols, guard rotations, and Elfe's surprising strength chief among them.
He can handle a few doors and guards himself, even with Cloud on his back, but enhanced fighters are another matter. If they have some kind of SOLDIER equivalent and she's just one of many, then he's as good as dead if he tries to brute force his way out.
Only one thing is certain, her eyes weren't glowing with mako residue when she pried his grip from her clothes and shoved him across the room with one hand.
Fuhito considers his words, shifting from one foot to the other.
"You seem resistant to the idea of Cloud being examined for treatment."
"Is that a question?" Zack says gruffly. A line appears between the other man's brows.
"I am simply intrigued as to why you would refuse treatment which could help someone you clearly care about."
"Still not really a question," Zack mutters under his breath, and then breaks away with a sigh. "Look, I'm sure you're just trying to be accommodating, but these eyes, they don't come for free, you know? It's a lot of exams and 'treatments' and pain. We don't need any more of that. We're fine just how we are."
Fuhito looks neither surprised nor chastised. If anything he seems intrigued, which Zack doesn't like at all.
"I see… very well then, I won't pester you further. What is your question?"
Rubbing at his neck, Zack reaches out for Cloud again, and only gets a vague blur of motion, light, and noise. The elevator can't get here soon enough.
Settling on the most obvious choice, he faces Fuhito properly and sets his hands on his hips.
"That woman, Elfe, she's strong. Unnaturally strong. But when I got up close, I didn't see signs of mako enhancement. How is that possible?"
"Hmm, how to explain…" Fuhito shoves his hands in his uniform shirt pockets and bends at the lower back to catch the breeze from the fans on his face. "It would be easier to show you, but that would require you to come to my lab in the Science Quarter, and I gather from what you've just said that you'd rather not do that."
Zack's works his jaw and the other man waves his hands quickly with an apologetic look.
"It's perfectly alright! It's just that I've been told that my explanations are a bit dull. Most people prefer a visual." Fuhito trails off as the elevator car draws near and a sallow, scruffy man perks through the bars, yelling.
"Odin's balls, Zack Fair? Is that really you?"
Zack blinks, uncomprehending as the man pushes through the other passengers and emerges from the opening doors with an eager face and rumpled clothes.
He only recognizes him at the last possible moment, just as the man draws near and latches his hands around Zack's in a hearty shake.
"It's me, Dave! From the Materia Room? You son of a bitch, you really are alive. I owe Kunsel an apology."
"Kunsel? He's here?"
A dumb grin splits Zack's face, his own happiness surprising him. To see someone from his past alive and well… even if it's just a coworker, it brings a strange lightness with it.
The man nods, pumping his fist enthusiastically.
"Oh yeah, there's a lot of us old guard here. Things only got worse after you flatlined, believe it or not. There came a point where Avalanche seemed like the only choice."
The other passengers look at them strangely, some grumbling about Dave's forceful exit, and Zack doesn't know what to say.
Fuhito looks between them approvingly.
"I take it you were acquainted in your careers at Shinra?"
"Hell yeah," Zack grins, drawn out by Dave's energy. "This guy's tech got me out of all kinds of trouble."
"Oh no, it was the other way around," Dave insists. "My department would have been replaced by machines years earlier without him. Those extra paychecks meant a lot when it came time to move my family out of Midgar. A little materia fusion under the table was the least I could do."
"What a happy coincidence." Fuhito smiles, but nods his head meaningfully at the elevator. "But on that note, I'm afraid we have a pressing engagement upstairs. Perhaps you two can catch up later."
Dave releases Zack's hand, recognizing the unstated order with a sheepish chuckle.
"Of course, of course, don't let me keep you! But Zack, you should totally come up to the lab sometime and see what we've been up to. You wouldn't believe how materia technology has advanced since you left."
The word 'left' grinds his gears, but Zack tries not to show it. The guy clearly has no idea, doesn't mean anything by it.
"I dunno," he hedges.
"Ah, don't be coy! I know what a materia fiend you are." Dave winks, casting a sidelong glance at Fuhito. "If it's alright with you, of course, Commander."
"On the contrary, I'm happy to facilitate. Zack will have a much easier time learning the ropes with an old friend to guide him, I'm sure."
Fuhito blinks expectantly, and Zack forces his face to hold a smile well past its prime.
Was that really all he had to worry about back then? Running repetitive, mindless missions and throwing materia into a pressure cooker just to see what came out? It's bizarre to think about, how out-of-touch he used too be with reality.
Walking into another laboratory is the last thing Zack wants to do, but with them both looking at him expectantly the answer feels obligatory. He nods, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep his nerves from showing.
"Y-yeah, totally."
"Awesome!" Dave gives him a thumbs up and Zack's smile twitches.
A bell sounds from within the elevator, and a uniformed operator leans out.
"Getting on, sir?" he calls.
"Presently." Fuhito turns. "Pardon us for making you wait. Third floor, if you please."
"Right away, sir."
With the turn of a crank, the elevator doors start to close. Zack ducks in after Fuhito, his eyes drawn to the outside as the operator pulls hard on the cable and the car begins to rise up.
Sweat shines from the operator's brow, and Zack realizes only as he gives a great heave that no electricity is powering the lift.
"I've never seen a mechanical elevator before," he says, feeling like he should help but unsure how.
"They are largely extinct these days." Fuhito shrugs, barely more than a dip of his head and a twitch of his shoulders. "For a military base it is archaic, but for a revolutionary base it is a philosophical necessity."
Philo-what now? With a glance to his face, Fuhito chuckles. Zack frowns.
"I mean to say, if Avalanche represents the fight against Planet-killing technology, then it would be hypocritical for us to power our base with mako energy. Everything here—from the elevator to the lights to the food we eat—must serve as an example of the world we hope to build.
We can reclaim the planet from Shinra's toxic vicegrip. We can rebuild within the wreckage they leave behind. I make a point of saying so to all new recruits. I find it gives them hope."
Zack watches the catwalks of the second floor blow by. The hands in his pockets curl into fists.
He doesn't want to know about Avalanche's 'integrity.' He doesn't want to see familiar faces and honest, principled living.
Its cold and self-serving, but deep in his core he wants them to be the rowdy, uncivilized rebels that burn villages and kidnap children in Shinra propaganda reels. Because if they're evil, then he doesn't have to feel guilty about betraying them. He can even say he did something good by undermining their organization.
But with each little speech Fuhito erodes that excuse, and Zack hates it, hates the feeling it plants in his chest that he's making the same mistakes all over again.
His silence drags on too long, and Fuhito clears his throat. Dragging his hands out, Zack pushes his hair out of his face and sighs.
"Most people don't dream of living in bunkers," he says in a poor imitation of a joke.
"Hmph, fair enough. But we are only yet in the twilight of the new age. They will all come to see as I do in time. For now our only task is to keep the light of hope burning until the moment awakening comes."
"Floor three," the operator announces. Gears slam and grind as he engages the break.
A shiver runs up Zack's spine.
"Thank you, Gerald," Fuhito bows to the operator and slides through the opening grate. "This way Zack, access to the town is just past this checkpoint."
Town? Zack furrows his brows. Maria took Cloud off base? Their papers are still in their bag where Gloria put them back in the warehouse. What if someone stops them? What if Cloud gets arrested, deported?
Natural light bathes his face, filtering in from a large gate where silhouetted guards stand at parade rest and his brain conjures an endless list of things that could go wrong in no time flat.
He hesitates a moment in the elevator watching Fuhito go, his stomach tied up in knots, before running after him in an anxious sprint.
The front wheels of the chair bounce and rattle on the cobblestone street as Maria pushes him energetically out of the mountain base.
She hasn't once stopped chattering since they left the cell, pointing out landmarks and introducing people as they pass, a flurry of information he only partially understood and certainly wouldn't remember.
Rustic wood buildings line the road in close quarters, clotheslines slung across the narrow gaps between. It's a wet, wind beaten town, the hanging signs faded and rooftops shining many colors from years of broken tiles being replaced by mismatched new. His ears buzz with the sound of a language he doesn't speak.
"The name translates to Rainbow Fish Town, because the rooftops look like scales," Maria says, waving when a shopkeeper greets her in Wutaian. She answers fluently with a smile, and switches back to Midgardian without missing a beat. "They say it survived the war because it is so beautiful from above that even Shinra dogs couldn't bring themselves to bomb it."
Cloud sincerely doubts that, but he can't quite catch his breath enough to say it. The wheelchair barrels down a slight hill and he yelps, much to Maria's amusement.
She doesn't stop until they reach a patio outside of a busy restaurant cloaked in grill smoke.
The aroma of char and grilled meat wafts out of a long, open bar top that jugs right through the exterior wall and into the open kitchen within. His mouth waters at the smell.
"Sit tight, I'll be right back," she grins, pulling a lever near his knee that stops the wheels from moving.
He swallows, surprised by a sudden rumble in his stomach.
Food hasn't been appealing in a long time. He eats when Zack feeds him, because it hurts to go hungry, but the last time he actually wanted food was when Hojo broke him with it.
Now wherever he feels that pull he also feels skeletal hands gripping his chin and an oily, crooning voice training him like a dog. That's usually more than enough to chase away his appetite.
Secretly, he only wanted better food on the road for Zack's sake, because he looked so miserable eating mush. If it's up to Cloud then bland, awful food is better. He can eat it without feeling that focused, yearning desire that Hojo used to such great effect. The same feeling that thunder through him now.
Despite his disgust, he's entranced by the chef's fluid movements behind the bar. His eyes lock on to his shining spatula, and after that he can't look away. Not for Maria chatting animatedly with the cashier, or for the kid on the street corner selling newspapers, or the group of elderly musicians across the street plucking their instruments in a sweet, meandering tune.
Minutes later metal rays crash and paper wrappers crinkle as Maria sets her bounties on the table. Cloud stares at the steaming plates, in awe of the rich colors and the glossy gleam of cooking oil dripping down the crispy fins of a grilled fish.
Pointing to each in turn, Maria leans eagerly over the table.
"That's chicken in sauce, that's green beans, fish, mapo tofu, and this is something you must try before I tell you what it is."
"W-why?"
"Because it's disgusting. But delicious!" She snaps apart a pair of wooden sticks and he averts his eyes with a sinking feeling.
Without Zack's help, he rarely manages to get any food down. His hands shake too much for him to feed himself, and if it's anything tougher than mush Zack has to cut it into tiny pieces like he's a baby.
His neck prickles at the thought of being fed that way in pubic, let alone by someone else. He looks down at his useless hands, but of course that only draws her attention to his problem.
"What is it, mijo? Did I make you sick?"
"I… can't eat without Zack." His face burns with shame. With a glance to their surroundings, Maria leans forward and points one narrow finger at her eye.
"Because of this?"
From the table or his imagination, he catches a hint of cinnamon and gags.
"Mostly."
Maris drags her chair around the table in awkward little hops until they're side by side.
"Can I tell you a little secret?" she asks between them.
Reaching down, she unties the laces of her right knee-high boot and shakes her leg to loosen the fit.
"When I was a little girl in La Costa, they used to pay us kids to clean up the beach after the tourists. We would go out way before sunrise and comb the beach before school. It was always dark, and I always went barefoot because I hated wearing wet shoes all day."
Cloud listens, confused until she pulls her shoe the rest of the way off to show him her foot, which stops abruptly just past the heel.
"One day I stepped on something sharp and it became infected. My mother used herbs and prayed, but we had to wait for her paycheck to go to the hospital. By the time the doctor saw me, he said I would lose all my toes."
Their eyes meet in understanding, and Maria works her foot back into the boot.
"It is not the same as you, I know this, but mira —without this boot I cannot walk. With it, I am a Captain. Once Gloria's father was just like you, but when I met him he lived by himself, doing everything himself. He invented the first PHS, did you know that?"
"I didn't," Cloud admits.
"It is true!"
Maria fills two small, porcelain cups with an ancient teapot. Taking his hand in hers, she rests one cup in his palm. He grips it tight, afraid he'll drop it, and the smooth surface becomes a choppy ocean from his trembling.
"And," she continues, watching the ripples, "when he ate he used a special special spoon for the tremors. I know a helmsman who drives without hands, and there is a shoemaker in Wutai who sews with his teeth! You cannot stop a person from living, not until you bury them all the way in the ground."
The cup sits heavy in Cloud's hand. When he looks down, his face is crystal clear in the reflection. As he stares, it starts to warp and ripple again.
She said that man in glasses could help him, but is it true? Could he really live without being such a burden? A pang of painful yearning hits even harder than the hunger.
He wants that, so much that it's scary to think about. He's sick to death of assisted feedings, being dressed and washed and moved by someone wise, of one-sided kisses and watching the world pass by from the backseat of Zack's mind.
And is it worth making a scene? Worth spilling food and having strangers stare at his lost dignity?
Dignity. What a joke. Hojo stole that years ago. Who is he kidding?
Gathering his concentration, he lifts the cup to his mouth.
It takes almost half a minute, and more lands on his shirt than his tongue, but he drinks what he can and it tastes good . Like flowers, lemon, and freedom.
Maria gives him a proud smile and tucks a napkin into the collar of his shirt.
"What shall we eat first?"
"I guess… the red stuff looks good."
"Oh, the red stuff is delicious . Sichuan pepper, chili paste, and a bunch of spices. It's my favorite," Maria gushes, rotating the platter to bring it close and dipping a wide, flat bottom spoon into the soup and blowing on it for safety. Bringing it to his lip, she tips it slowly.
Flavor explodes in his mouth like a bomb. Rich, sour, tangy all at once, sliding over tongue and making his cheeks clench strangely. It's almost too hot. It makes his lips tingle… or was that from something else? The heat dims after he swallows but the sharp, prickly feeling lingers, building into to a different kind of heat that he's never felt before.
"H-hot!" he gasps, panting with it, and Maria's eyes go wide.
"You didn't know?"
The heat ramps up and something like betrayal colors his stare. Maria laughs hysterically.
"Mijo, I said it has peppers and chili paste!"
"I don't know what those are!" he sputters.
A little wildly, she grabs a glass of water and helps him drink. It does almost nothing.
"What is this?"
"It's spicy, you don't know what spicy is?" She fans her hand at him, giggling. "Ay ay ay, what did mama feed you? You poor thing, you never had anything spicy?"
The heat subsides, leaving a strange numb vibration behind. His pulse thumps and his head feels a light. In the wake of the excitement it actually feels… kind of good. Invigorating.
"I think… I liked that."
"Ohhhh , are you sure? You look like a tomato. I don't think you're ready." Maria crowds close, rubbing his shoulders like a boxing coach.
"Ready for what?" Zack says directly behind him.
Cloud jumps. Maria stops her wheedling, looking up.
"For my special pirate hot sauce, of course. Wait, wait, what happened? You're so gloomy, like a little storm cloud."
Zack slides into the chair on Cloud's other side as Fuhito walks around Maria to take the last of the four.
Had he really been so distracted that he hadn't felt them coming?
Maria's right, Zack looks stressed. His body is stiff in the chair, his back straight and shoulders high. Now that he's paying attention the usual undercurrent of Zack's feelings trickle in, thick and sticky like putty.
"You ran off with him," he accuses. "I had no idea where you went, I was worried sick."
"To show him the town," Maria says, motioning at the surroundings with a breezy smile.
"And you couldn't have waited five seconds for me?" Zack snaps.
"You're together all the time, he needs a break. To breathe fresh air, spread his wings—"
"Who the hell are you to say what he needs? We just met you."
"I'm right here, dammit, stop talking about me like I can't speak for myself," Cloud says. "The fuck is wrong with you?"
"Me? She carted you off out of nowhere, could have taken you anywhere and what would you do? Do you even have your gun with you?"
"It's Maria, what the hell? She'd have stopped if I asked."
"So why didn't you?"
"Because I didn't want her to," Cloud sputters, totally confused. He's never seen Zack so mad over something so stupid, doesn't know how to take it, what to say.
His partner drops his hand from his face, and the sight of his wide, hurt eyes only baffles Cloud more.
In the absence of any words spoken out loud, an awkward silence takes hold.
"Well, this looks like a lovely meal," Fuhito says briskly.
Maria purses her lips and busies herself dishing up plates.
Zack chugs a glass of milk desperately as Maria snickers into her napkin.
This is the worst eating experience of his entire life. Plain rice would be better than this. Lab food was better than this. Who ever thought lighting their mouth on fire would be an appealing way to eat something?
Cloud, apparently, judging by the fluffy contentment wafting over the bond.
Childish as it was, Zack hadn't wanted to be beaten by the same spice that Cloud ate easily, so he had tried to ignore it and choke down the food out of sheer masculine pride.
Now he's paying the price in the form of a sniffly nose and tears streaming down his face. So much for saving face.
"You really should have said something," Fuhito says sympathetically.
"I didn't want to drive to the bill," Zack moans.
"You really don't like it?" Cloud prods at his feelings, more mystified than amused, and Zack hides his face in a napkin.
"What's there to like? It's just hot, hot, hot."
Cloud laughs, low and husky like his voice gets nowadays. Zack slides low in his chair and lets his head rest on the back, throwing down the napkin and letting the sea breeze ease his suffering.
At least it's winter. Winter in Wutai is temperate and dry. It feels like a different country from the hot, rain-soaked hellhole he remembers. The days were long in the summer of his combat tour, the sun a blazing fire and the hair thick with smoke and mosquitoes
He shuts his eyes and breathes.
Cloud opens the bond like he wants to say something, but then he hesitates and Zack only hears ocean waves. He shuffles a bit and the wheelchair creaks.
He probably overreacted, he can admit that much to himself, but he felt justified all the same. They can't get comfortable here, no matter how nicely they're treated, they're ultimately snakes in the grass. Cloud has to know that, but he seems determined to ignore it, or maybe to change Zack's mind.
Two parts of him tear each other to pieces over it—the part that would do anything to see Cloud happy, and the part that would do anything to make sure he's safe. And that's not even touching on Aerith and guilt he feels every day he leaves her waiting without an answer.
What he wants doesn't really enter into the equation, which is almost a relief because the longer he thinks over Fuhito's words the less certain his feelings become.
He needs to get this mission completed fast, before it becomes any muddier. Even after they fix this hiccup with the Turks, there's still Jenova-roth to think about. His dream of a peaceful life drifts further out of reach by the day, and all he can do is keep trying.
Something brushes his right hand on the armrest and he startles, his eyes sliding open to see Cloud's fingers reaching out across the gap between their chairs.
His blue eyes pierce him and burn. Not like the night in the tub, but like warm tea and a full stomach. Zack turns his hand and threads their fingers.
"Hey, Cloud…" he starts.
Fuhito clears his throat and sets his chopsticks down.
"Well, that proved to be a worthy diversion, thank you Captain. Next I will show you two ti your quarters. Per the Commander's order you'll be staying in our probationary dorm until—"
A deep, resonant gong echoes over the town. And then another, and another. The Commander pauses, turning in his chair to check the clock on the restaurant wall.
"My word, is it that late?" Balling up his napkin, Fuhito scrapes his chair back and stands up in a hurry. "I'm terribly sorry, but it seems I've lost track of time. The Elegy is starting soon."
"Oh," Maria throws down her napkin as well.
"Elegy?" Cloud murmurs.
"The group meeting." Maria darts to the restaurant counter to settle the check. Zack watches her dubiously as Fuhito stands and tugs the wrinkles from his uniform.
"We meet daily in the chapel to give announcements and share affirmations," he says, unrolling the sleeves he'd pushed up while eating. "You're more than welcome to attend, although of course it's entirely voluntary. I understand if you'd rather use the evening to acclimate."
Zack has no intention of acclimating, but he would much rather get acquainted with his bunk than listen to any more Avalanche talk. His doubts need to stay small and locked away like they are.
"That might be for the best," he says, at the same time Cloud says, "Of course we'll go."
Their eyes find each other's, blank with surprise. Numbly, he replays Cloud's answer in his head.
"What?" he says.
Fuhito hollows his cheeks, looking between them. Cloud blinks slowly like he thinks Zack's being stupid.
"It's a group meeting. Veld could be there. The announcements could be useful. Why wouldn't you want to go?"
"Because I don't want to get involved. We have all day to search, but the more people we meet, the more known we are. We should try to be subtle, keep a low profile."
Yeah, because we're so subtle as we are." Cloud scoffs, eyes flicking down Zack's person and then to his own body in the wheelchair.
Fuhito pushes up his glasses in a rare show of nerves, clearing his throat with a cough into his fist. Maria jogs back from the bar, reading the room with her eyes.
"Oh, they staring again?" she asks in a stage whisper, easily heard by everyone. " Yeah, they do that sometimes. Don't worry, they'll snap out of it in a minute."
"Well, I really do need to be going…" Fuhito says awkwardly.
"I'll go on my own," Cloud says suddenly.
Zack feels like a trap door just opened in his stomach. He sits up and Cloud pulls his fingers from their hold.
"Zack can rest in the room, and I'll fill him in when he gets back," he says, a bit louder and clearer than he can usually muster.
For once in his life Zack's words fail him. His mouth hangs open but nothing comes out. Cloud turns to Fuhito with an expectant stare.
"Will you take me, Commander? And… Maria, can you show Zack where to go?"
Maria nods, shifting her weight to one leg. "Of course, if that's really what you want."
"Hang on—" Zack sputters.
"Thanks," Cloud smiles fully, unlocking the wheels of the wheelchair himself with an unsteady but determined pull.
Zack watches with a tight chest. It's the smoothest, strongest move he's seen Cloud do since the mountain. He hates how uncomfortable it makes him, when he knows he should be overjoyed.
Fuhito takes the wheelchair handles and pulls Cloud out from the table.
Standing in a blur, Zack watches them roll toward the street.
A light touch to his shoulder draws him back. It's Maria, brushing crumbs from his jacket.
"Such a worrywart," she tuts, pulling the two sides of his coat together.
"What the hell was that?" Zack blurts, his head buzzing as Fuhito turns his back and starts pushing Cloud up the hill. "Is he mad at me?"
Her full lips squish together in an odd sort of pout, her heavily penciled eyebrows creasing.
"Gaia preserve me," she sighs. "You're even more messed up than he is."