Chapter 9. January εуλ0001- April εуλ0001

Zack had nothing left of Angeal but teachings and memories, times when he had been able to make Angeal smile just a little. Barely remembered, it seemed. "Heroes are chosen by the media, and Shinra controls the media," Kunsel had reminded him. All the attention was on Sephiroth, deemed the "hero of Wutai", despite the man not seeming to care less.

Kunsel had once called Angeal "the spiritual leader of SOLDIER". He savored each lesson now, knowing there would be no more, remembering the words of his mentor, now seeing how he was trying to shape a young, overenthusiastic man into something more mature, more refined. Zack wished he had been more malleable now.

Find the right zone in your mind.

SOLDIERS were taught to call upon their past experiences, previous emotions for strength. When he'd been taught that, Zack had wondered. If that was the true strength of a SOLDIER, then why did they need the mako injections?

He'd voiced his concerns, and been told the mako joined them to the Lifestream and facilitated the connection. Made sense, he supposed, but he wondered if that was all there was to it.

Your true power has yet to be released.

What Angeal called honor – wasn't that just a fancy name for friendship and love making you stronger? Zack valued the people in his life above all else. Even above being a hero. Wasn't that what made a person who they were? He'd been in Midgar nearly a year, and he was friendly to everyone, popular and well-liked in the department. But he still felt a little bereft. Kunsel was his closest friend. It was those closer-to-the-heart connections that he was craving, and Angeal had been the only one who qualified – Sephiroth perhaps a distant second – making the loss of his mentor all the more poignant.

Who would he meet to fill that space?

Tseng did not like puppies.

They were noisy, messy, and impossible to keep track of. Pure disorder, a slap in the face to his entire concept of pristine organization.

Nevertheless, there was something undeniably appealing about Zack Fair.

Veld had ordered Tseng on this mission to Banora in part to take the measure of the man. With Genesis and Angeal missing, there was a void of leadership at the top. And in an unprecedented step, Sephiroth himself – Sephiroth, who ordinarily couldn't care less about the internal politics of the department – had himself recommended pushing Zack up to First, even suggesting Zack for this mission after he himself refused to go. On the end of Angeal's own recommendation, that was saying quite a lot for the young man with him.

Tseng could have recited the basics in his sleep. Age 16, 6'3", hometown Gongaga. He also knew of Angeal's assessment. Enthusiastic, honest, humble. But any Turk worth his salt knew that there was no substitute for direct surveillance of the target. Secondhand observation provided a start, but could only get you so far. Knowledge was power.

So far, this is what he knew.

Zack appeared flippant and flamboyant on the outside, dispatching monsters with a casual "later!", but underneath that veneer, there was a solid core. Tseng knew enough of swordsmanship to recognize a near-master when he saw one. He'd made the observation through the years that there was a certain type that naturally gravitated to the weapon, visible in the way they merged with it, the blade becoming an extension of their own body. This, coupled with Angeal's tutelage, was visible in the fluid way Zack moved. Direct. Sure. Not an ounce of wasted motion.

Suffice to say, Tseng was impressed.

But did Zack Fair really have the leadership qualities for the position Sephiroth seemed to be grooming him for? At the same time as they fought their way towards Genesis's location, a practiced sixth sense was taking notes. And that's where things got interesting.

"SOLDIERs are glorified monsters," Tseng had told him, as they observed the factory where Genesis was hiding. "The process that forms them is much the same."

"SOLDIERs can't be the same as monsters," Zack had argued. "It's what's inside that counts. Not what was done to them in a lab."

Zack was an idealist. Trying to bring Angeal, Genesis back into the Shinra fold. Tseng could hardly fault him for wanting to save his mentor, but Genesis as well? Even after finding out the renegade SOLDIER had killed his own parents and members of the Turks as well? For his part, Tseng expected this to be little more than a confirmation mission that the two were truly AWOL, so they could get on with having those two declared KIA and get on with saving face. Rufus was scheduled to finally return as Vice President; Tseng knew the young man would insist on no loose ends.

How would Zack react when he found out the village was to be destroyed?

Did that idealism have any place in Shinra? It made Tseng feel remarkably jaded. Zack's idealism reminded him of Aerith and her response to his… unusual… proposal. He wondered if idealism had a chance anywhere. Regardless, Zack was someone men would follow.

SOLDIERS might be monsters. Genesis certainly was. Angeal was getting there. But Zack Fair still carried a very human heart.

Genesis Rhapsodos, Killed in Action

Angeal Hewley, Killed in Action

No matter how many times Zack read the email, it said nothing different.

Who are they kidding? he thought. Wasn't the purpose of going to Banora to bring them back? He'd hoped with the Wutai War ending, things would settle down, and somehow naively connected that to Angeal's return, as if one had anything to do with the other. In his excitement at making SOLDIER, wanting to become a hero, he had forgotten one crucial detail. He worked for a corporation. A corporation that could be ruthlessly efficient in pursuit of its objectives. Banora's destruction proved that.

The city lights blinked fifty floors below; the slums lay another several hundred feet below that. He stared out at the massive Reactor #5, one of the eight making it all possible. The Shinra building slated to be finished the next year; the city itself, by 007. All this carved onto the skeletons of villages and towns by mako, the same stuff that they had flooded into his veins. What did that make him?

Were SOLDIERs really monsters after all?

The ringing of his PHS interrupted his brooding thoughts. "Come to Lazard's office," Sephiroth's voice said, and hung up.

Sephiroth was there to greet him with Lazard. "Congratulations," the Director told him. "You are hereby officially promoted to First Class."

Zack just stood there for a moment. "Oh," he finally said.

"Oh?" Lazard chuckled. It seemed forced. "Young man, I thought you wanted to be a hero? This is your chance."

"Sorry," Zack muttered. "It's just… not quite what I expected."

"Perhaps it will meet your expectations soon enough," Sephiroth finally spoke. "You and I will be leaving shortly to look for Angeal and Genesis."

Zack turned to glare at the Silver General. "You mean 'Killed-in-Action' Angeal and Genesis?" he challenged. Sephiroth harrumphed.

Zack eyed Sephiroth. The three Firsts had been the top of the heap, and though Sephiroth was the "first among firsts", now he was the only one who was left. He mulled for a moment, considering the different ways to be a hero. For Angeal, it was honor. For Genesis, it was jealousy. Sephiroth had been more or less forced into it, called by duty – did he ever find himself resenting his position?

He was still thinking about heroes as he changed into his new uniform, barely noticing the black that had once seemed so unattainable. He'd told Lazard, months ago, that he wanted to be a hero – but still smarting from Angeal's loss, what kind of hero did he want to be? Sephiroth seemed almost more sympathetic to Genesis's reasons than Angeal's, as if Angeal was merely being self-righteous. Zack could have told him Angeal meant it from the heart. Was that self-serving in his own way?

On the way back, Zack passed Hojo in the hallway. The scientist had been the one to perfect the protocol to make next-generation SOLDIERs, the technique that made Zack who he was now. And every time Hojo saw him, the man seemed to be sizing him up, as if evaluating the progress of his work. The thought gave Zack shivers…

He'd been waiting for this since Banora.

No, before. Since Wutai.

Somehow, he knew that Angeal would eventually return to Midgar, and he would finally have the chance to get some answers.

Still, Zack was speechless as he stared at the man who had been hero, mentor, friend – and watched a giant white wing unfurl from Angeal's back.

Was this the secret he kept hidden? Zack wondered. But even so, was this the man Angeal had become? A man, not a monster, Zack reminded himself. No one could convince him otherwise, not even in his heart of hearts, that Angeal was a truly a monster. He didn't believe it of Genesis himself, much less the man who had done so much to set his path.

But here they were, teetering nearly at the edge of the plate, and it occurred to Zack that perhaps the student had become the teacher. It was time to show Angeal how his lessons were taken to heart.

"No," he said. "I won't fight you. There would be no honor in that."

Angeal did not lower his sword, but Zack thought he saw a flicker of doubt across the man's features.

"Please, Angeal," he half-begged, appealing to the man he knew was inside. "Show me the wisdom you taught me yourself. I don't want to have to fight you."

Angeal drove the Buster Sword downwards, echoes resonating, Zack hearing pride and honor and dreams all dropping to the floor.

Angeal marched forward; Zack pressed his point not with steel, but with words. "You're no monster, Angeal. Someone told me, wings represent freedom for those who have none. Don't you want that freedom?" He paused for emphasis. "Those aren't the wings of a monster. Those are the wings of an angel. Find the right place in your mind, Angeal, you taught me that. Don't let this happen."

"An angel, you say?" Angeal half-snarled; and Zack started to wonder how much of the man he once knew was truly left. "If this is the price of freedom… then you can keep it. What I want is to be human again!"

-and suddenly Zack was flung backwards, crashing into grates that collapsed underneath him.

But in his mind, Zack somehow heard Angeal say one last thing.

It's for your own good, Zack. Don't be afraid to fall…

…angels… monsters… SOLDIERS and heroes…

…how do they all fit together?...

…all I want is to help my friends…

Zack rejoined consciousness with sun in his eyes, and the sounds of an angel's voice in his ears.

Where was this place?

Am I dead? "Heaven?" he asked, groggy.

"Not quite. Church in the slums," the angel said, amused. Slowly, a pale face filled his vision, surmounted by gold-brown hair, bouncing locks, and he looked into big-blue-green eyes, so bright he could have sworn she had mako eyes herself.

"I'm Aerith," the music said sweetly.

Shot through the heart. Suddenly, the meaning of that expression was plain. He felt a jolt of – something – that he desperately wanted, needed. And just like that, all of his experience with women deserted him, and he was taken back to a goggle-eyed thirteen-year-old experiencing a woman for the first time.

Then again, maybe he was.

She offered a slight hand, but he shook his head, leaping to his feet in one bound, hoping she was watching. He puffed up his chest instinctively, making a point to place his hands on his hips to display his arms to best advantage, and took a moment to drink an eyeful.

She was a slight little thing. Probably a foot shorter than he, but then again, he was a big guy. Perhaps a bit more slender, less curvy than he usually liked, but he had an inkling that in his arms, she would fit just right. From her high-braided hair to her wedged sandals, there was something achingly, intoxicatingly feminine about her, that reached to Zack deep within. Right at the barest cusp where she could officially be called a woman.

He had to keep her attention somehow. Compliments. Women like compliments. He searched around frantically for something. Wait, weren't those –

"Those are beautiful flowers," he said.

Aerith beamed. Jackpot. "You like them?" she replied. "I grew them."

"Love them," he answered. Confidence was slowly coming back, along with his brain. "How do you grow flowers in Midgar, anyway?" He realized how far he had come from Gongaga, from lush nature to a world of grey giants of concrete and steel, where a simple flower was cause for celebration.

Aerith knelt down, brushing the petals of one with soft tenderness, and Zack felt his skin give an electric shiver. "They… only grow here," she said awkwardly, and Zack wondered if there was more that she wasn't letting on. "Well, I was able to grow them at my house, too. You see, they only really like to be tended by me." She looked up flirtatiously. "They broke your fall, you know. You really owe them a thank you."

Fall, huh? That last hint of Angeal's voice and what she had first said finally began to congeal in his scrambled brain. I fell… from the plate? Anyone not SOLDIER would be dead, unless those flowers had some special power. Then again, maybe they did… "Well, I can't really thank the flowers, but maybe I can thank you," he told her, putting his most winning smile on his face. "You know, I've never actually been to the slums before. How about… one date? You can show me around."

"Oh, you won't like it," Aerith demurred. "It's really cluttered."

"Then I'll feel right at home," he told her. "Come on, just one, huh? I don't even know how to get back up to the plate. You've got to get me at least that far," he half-pleaded. Then he realized something stupid. "I haven't even told you my name. It's Zack."

Aerith looked at Zack appraisingly. A fighter, for sure, but the slums were something different, seedier. Sneakier. They could easily eat this guy alive. Yet there was something about him that felt so absolutely safe. She'd never learned to fight; here he was, a big, strong, protector. And he was making an absolute fool out of himself, just to spend some time with her.

She thought she had never met anyone so… silly… in her life. She had no knowledge of love, but maybe, just maybe… could this be something?

There was nothing to do but agree.

Zack smirked inwardly. Still got it. He'd be back to Shinra soon enough. In the meantime… Spending the day with a beautiful woman. He'd do anything she liked, as long as she didn't want to go shoppi-

Oh shit.

Well, he guessed he'd do anything she liked.

It was clear Aerith knew everyone in the neighborhood, and they her; talking with one man who had some items from a traveler in Kalm, another who specialized in unusual materia. Zack looked at that with interest; there were a couple that didn't seem to be in the regular Shinra roster. He had to endure some good-natured ribbing as to his prospects with Aerith, the embarrassment only mollified by the generally encouraging response. Zack idly wondered if she had lived in the slums all her life.

"How do you live without seeing the sky?" In the distance, the horizon was visible, but up above was nothing but the omnipresent plate. Zack shuddered. Living on top, he hadn't realized how oppressive that thing could be.

She trembled visibly, and he immediately regretted the question. "I hate the sky," she admitted, balling up her little hands into fists. "It frightens me."

How could anyone be frightened of the sky? Maybe one day… "I could take you," he impulsively suggested. "It wouldn't be frightening if we go together, right? It's beautiful. Not scary at all."

After a moment, she nodded, and Zack resisted the urge to pump his fist. Score! And right after that he realized another thing. She just agreed to see me again!

He was mentally patting himself on the back, when he noticed she had wandered off again, looking at a display of… something.

He ambled over by her side, to where Aerith was fingering a display of brightly covered ribbons. Huh. Such a small thing to bring some color in, and yet… The ribbons reminded him of Aerith herself, a bright flower in a world of darkness. On a whim, he reached forward.

"This one," he touched the pink bow. "I think it suits you."

"You really think so?" Those mysterious, deep liquid eyes.

"Sure!" he enthused. "I'll buy it for you – on one condition."

"What's that?" she asked.

"If you wear it, whenever you come to see me," he said; and suddenly his heart was in his throat.

She looked at him for a long moment, searching somehow. "I'll never take it off," she finally said.

Butterflies were in his stomach as he paid for the purchase, and she turned to let him tie it in. His fingertips brushed her neck, her shoulders, her skin just as soft as he had imagined, and he reveled in the small intimacy of the act as he tied it into her hair, giving it just enough of a tug to keep it secure.

She wheeled back around, putting her new accessory. "How do I look?"

Zack just found himself staring, without knowing why. "Beautiful," he said softly; and she smiled.

He could drink in those eyes forever. He was wondering if it might be too forward if he reached out and… "Let's go to the park!" she suddenly exclaimed.

She had already half-scampered away when his shoulders slumped.

At least the park offered a little more peace than the bustle of the marketplace. He took a deep breath of the muggy air, realizing how claustrophobic he was starting to feel. The air above the plate wasn't the cleanest, either, but at least it moved. How could Aerith stand it?

"Zack?" interrupted his thoughts, and he realized she had said something.

"Huh?" he replied.

"I was asking if you've ever met anyone from SOLDIER. I thought maybe you would know some, since you're a fighter too." Aerith swallowed. "They're… strange. They… LIKE to fight. Is that normal?"

Zack gulped. What if she didn't like – He'd just assumed she would see him as some kind of hero. Foolish. He could - No, what else was there to do? Lie? The thought of what Angeal would say gave him courage. Gotta come clean right away, then. If she gets scared off –

"Actually," he said, wondering why he was suddenly more frightened of this woman than any monster he'd had to face, "I'm… a SOLDIER."

"Oh!" Aerith slapped her hand to her mouth in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry!" Suddenly she found herself seeing Zack in a whole new light… no, not Zack. He was exactly the same, a sweet, honest doofus. It was SOLDIER she was suddenly thinking of differently. If they were like him, maybe they weren't as bad as she had thought?

"I never would have guessed," she admitted.

"It's the eyes," Zack murmured almost apologetically. "That's how you can tell. It's from the mako they give us." Suddenly, he was all smiles again. "Hey… you want to take a closer look?"

She did. "So pretty," she said, and wondered if he even realized that he blushed. She leaned in closer, anticipating. Not her first kiss, and yet…

Zack was more and more pleased with the way this day – this date – was going. Aerith leaned in, receptive, so close he could feel her warmth. He reached one hand towards her face…

RING! RING!

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

"Hello?" Zack didn't even bother to hide his irritation, even with Sephiroth, until the word "Genesis" was heard; he slammed the phone shut, as reality came crashing back in.

"Aerith," he said reluctantly. "Speaking of. That was SOLDIER. There's trouble. I… have to go."

"Oh." She paused, "I guess I should get going then." She took a few hesitant steps. "Will I… see you again?"

She expected a joke, but to her surprised, he looked long and soft at her. "Of course," he told her. "That's a promise."

She turned away with a smile on her face; and it left Zack half-floating on his trip back up to the plate.

Author's Note: This was supposed to go in the first chapter ("Instruction Booklet"), but I forgot, so it goes here. You may notice that The Zack/Aerith date is the same, only not. Writing ingame dialogue… is not what I am here to do. Ugh. But even though this is not, strictly speaking, a novelization, there will be some conversations (**cough cough Advent Children cough**) important enough to be used verbatim, or only very slightly paraphrased.