#(She is entirely unconcerned that this stranger is telling her he's from another planet entirely)

[more-than-a-princess]

She had to laugh at that: for as unpredictable as the day had become, Zack was still concerned with something as inconsequential as swear words. For someone who could, and did, do that in several dozen languages, Sonia was far more amused than offended. "Oh no, it's quite all right," She replied in-between giggles. "Rather refreshing, actually! To meet someone who isn't afraid to swear in front of me, and be honest with me. I say 'fuck this shit' at least once a week, myself." Usually over rules and policies she didn't agree with but didn't hold enough power yet to change.

Her questions hadn't been easy ones to answer, and she wasn't surprised that he couldn't. It was science that the world, her world, hadn't invented yet so asking someone from an entirely different planet to explain it in ways he understood, and as such she would too, was a tall order. But she wasn't one to shy away from an intriguing mystery: it was just that her usual brand of mysteries involved murder, or cults, or both. Far too gruesome for the dinner table, as her 'unsavory' hobbies usually were.

"I cannot imagine how disorienting being sent to another world must be," Sonia mused aloud. It was a knee-jerk reaction, to try and solve every problem that presented itself to her. It was to be the purpose of her life after all, to lead and problem solve for millions of people. But Zack wasn't her subject, he was her friend: albeit a very new one but a friend all the same. That had a different, more personal, sense of urgency to assist where and if she could. "But I do not think you are a mess. Lost, perhaps: but not a mess. But I am intrigued about how you were supposed to become a hero that has turned into a felon: that sounds like quite the tale, but if the story is personal I will not press you for more."

She was smart to have taken the burger and fries she did: Zack clearly had no difficulty putting away the rest of it. Just as well, she thought as she munched on her last fry, smiling: he seemed far more in need of a large meal than she did. "Would you be interested in dessert? Nothing fancy," She asked, hopefully putting his worries at ease. If he had any at this point: from the shower to the clothes to the meal, it was truly not an inconvenience for her to help him for a little while. Sonia got to her feet, giving him a conspirator's smile before sauntering over to the freezer. "Do you like ice cream? If not, I think there is some cake in the refrigerator from yesterday. And I can be trusted to serve these, at least."

She'd have the ice cream, in any case, and Sonia began to take out various pints from the freezer and set them on the counter: homemade, of course, in various flavors loved by both Japanese and Novosonian people: chocolate, stracciatella, nocciola, pistachio, green tea, black sesame, strawberry, peach. Half the freezer seemed to be stocked with frozen sweets alone, just how Sonia liked it. She opened the stracciatella, pistachio, and nocciola for herself, wanting a taste of home: it would help her think, or so she believed, about how she could assist him further.

"So you are on the run but must return to the people you care about, that is very brave and warmhearted of you," She said as she scooped out the first scoop into a bowl. "The thing is, I am not sure what sort of technology you would need in order to get home. Here, it would be difficult to acquire scientific help, but at home...well. I have a bit more authority there to commandeer some of the national science departments. Unless your journey is more akin to a fantasy novel and you must go on a quest! To assemble various precious items that, when combined, it opens a portal between worlds. Was your experience similar to that? It would be so very exciting if it was!"

"Gaia." He nodded. "Though the way you describe it sounds like a place that it could have been. You know, before humans decided to fuck it over. Oops." He brought a hand up to his lips. "Sorry." LANGUAGE, Zack!

"I wish I could explain to you what happened. How I ended up here. Truth is, I'm not smart enough to even try it. And to be honest, I don't even think I have the energy to make the attempt. Right now, I feel like I'm in a race against time. Or like... I'm in an eternal struggle for answers that I'll never find." And it wasn't the sort that, say, a scholar might seek on their own. Answers to those questions that would enrich the mind or something.

The answers he sought were of a life and death situation. Or to regain the life that had been stolen from him.

"I'll just say that I had some help to get here. What I'm supposed to do---" He shrugged a shoulder. ".... so as you can see, I'm a mess. Listen, my hopes and dreams saw me bound for hero-hood by this point. Instead, I'm all but an official felon, and if I go back home, I'm dead. At the same time, I have to go back home eventually because there's people I care about there and I'm not about to let them fend for themselves."

He sighed heavily, angrily wielding a french fry which he happily indulged in. ".... so, you see? Your hamburgers and fries have given me the strength to continue my adventure. Partially back to my human state with a shower too!" If he didn't find humor in the situation, he truly would be dead. It was about the only thing he had to prevent him from drowning in despair.

[pernatius]

Lost in Space Part 7: Ch 4

Previous 

Summary: After finding Syco, the duo finds an unsettling, new reality.

Lost in Space on Tumblr

Lost in Space on ao3

I don’t do anything. I look into their eyes, watching them morph into someone I once knew. I- No. She looks at me with wonder in her eyes. She’s who I was before everything led to this. She’s wearing the same outfit with white and thick, black lines, but hers is a lot newer than mine. Hers isn’t faded. Hers hasn’t seen what I’ve had to go through. It’s innocent, naive, something I wish I still had. It’s as the saying goes ignorance is bliss. 

The two of us have talked about this. It felt good doing so, but it wasn’t enough. I still need to accept it. I still need to let these emotions go. 

I hadn’t noticed I was crying until I felt a warm hand rest itself on my cheek. Their thumb wiped away my tears. Raising my head, I see my younger self fading. Through my blurry vision, I see everyone I’ve come in contact with throughout this journey, everyone that I’ve lost. Ashely’s sitting upright, taking the place of my previous self. When she leans in, connecting our foreheads, I hiccup and can feel my face heat up. “I’m-”

“Okay. It’s okay,” Saamuki told me. 

A big, blue star beat down on the three of us as we headed towards the cathedral, the tallest, winding building poking up from the city resting on the other side of this massive brick wall. Its shadow would’ve covered Syco’s entire growing army easily. A handful of guards watched us from above as Syco conversed with the two standing in front of the entrance that was encased by a small, green forcefield. As he was showing them his screen, I took note of the wall. It’s stained with gunk, which attracted a swarm of flies. One of which departed from the others and buzzed towards the forcefield. Upon touching it, it was vaporized. I make a sound, which gets the attention of one of the guards above. Well, my brain tells me it does. I know it’s just a coincidence, but I’m still worried. Through his helmet, I imagine his eyes. I imagine him glaring down at me, looking past this disguise. I am a Talten now. I got my crown to do so twelve minutes ago, but my brain rationalized that he could see I was human and he was reaching for his blaster rather than his companion to tell a joke. I imagined him aiming it at me. He shoots. I flinch. 

We’re inside. I breathe out. The cobble roads surround hundreds of medieval-style homes. A few citizens walk past us. Three held candles. One of which whips his groaning horse, to pull his carriage full of whatever could’ve been in those barrels faster. A thick, grey cloud puffed out of them with each bumpy step. The unwilling creature isn’t what horses look like on Earth. It has two stubby legs and a fat, round body. It’s as big as a horse, though. So, I just label it as one. 

In this small, tight square the homes are withering. Some of the roofs and doors are molding. A few have cracked windows. One of which has completely shattered. If I had a nose right now it would’ve withered away too, vaporized like that poor fly. This area is completely unsanitary. Between two houses, in the corner of my eye, are flies circling what I hope is just a sleeping, single toothed old man with a mouth full of murky water and a single, torn, and stained page of a newspaper covering his crotch. Without it he’s naked. 

Syco seemingly ignores the scenery around us, walking with confidence, and especially without concern. The two of us follow without question, but I can’t ignore the contrast between our previous and new settings. Underneath one of the many bridges connecting the impoverished to the affluent portions of the city, is a clear, blue river. Riding through it from within a bright, red Gondola is a man proudly singing, letting the universe know of his lovely voice, as he steers his boat. Before I’m able to fall behind from the others I turn around, making sure what I saw previously was real. There it is. A line separated these two completely different worlds, one side somber and the other is the cleaner, brighter, and happier one I am suddenly engulfed by. It made my heart drop, but I didn't get to settle on the feeling for long before I needed to catch up to the others. 

Walking past a bridge that stretched above us, we entered another square. In this square, paper lanterns pointed down on us. Lined above them are flags, which had a white circle and a black dot in their centers. Two children, laughing, ran past us with a belt in their hands. Running towards them not too far behind is a guard trying to hold up his pants and shouting for the two little, young thieves to slow down. Once both parties turn a corner the ruckus dies and the onlookers besides us return to whatever they were doing. Although, the moment is forever written into everyone's mornings. Two women chuckle at each other about it. An elderly man sweeping his shop’s doorway now smiles. Another man, but this one is leaning against one of the nearby buildings, shakes his head from side to side in amusement as he plays with the golden coin between his gloved hand. 

Looking at Saamuki, I see she too is jovial, She smiles. I imagine her feeling nostalgic. Now looking at Syco, his face remains stiff, but for some reason, I feel like he’s just as nostalgic as her. 

Cold as ever, he continues towards the cathedral. Sunlight shoots through the stained glass in the center of its highest steeple, causing a familiar depiction to reflect onto us. A white, geometric figure, floating above a burning city looks down at the people below. They bow to the figure with tears in their eyes. They’re being forced to submit, and after everything that I’ve learned, I have a strong guess on who the white figure could be. 

Syco swings open its doors. The sound when they close lets out a deafening echo. Rows upon rows of pews are empty but one. The one at the very end has a hunched figure whispering to himself, praying I presume. The cathedral somehow managed to be even bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. It’s dark. Candles are clasped between the statues of elderly women dressed in long, hooded robes. They are evenly spaced across either side of the cathedral. The flickering glow from their small torches makes it look as if their lips are moving. With each flicker, their frowns deepen. If they hadn’t been sculpted with hoods their eyes would’ve looked judgingly at us, right into our souls. At the front, the very end of this red rug we’re awkwardly standing on, are four statues bowing in front of a genderless, youthful, and cloaked figure with the same symbol as the flags outside etched into the center of their chest. 

The leader of this mission strides forward solemnly towards the only other person here. We continued to follow him without question, but it’s here that I realize he never told us why we’re here. One of the few men he had on his ship came into our room, in the middle of our mourning, to alert us we landed on this planet and that Syco wanted the two of us to tag along. The two of us didn’t even look at each other. We just accepted it. 

Although, maybe it's because the two of us shared distrust for Syco, so we wanted to remain on his good side. He was our enemy for so long. He was my enemy for so long. I was angry at him for so long, yet just barely two hours ago he wants to befriend rather than be a foe. No, more like coworkers, but is it right for me to feel this way about him? There’s a reason why Mikrovos acted the way he did when Syco and my paths crossed for the first time. Now he and everyone else is in his control, being enslaved by him. Everyone says he’s mad. At one point there wasn’t any way for me to argue, no reason as well, but a mad person doesn’t cry like that. He’s troubled just like- I shake off that thought, stopping myself before I start agreeing that we’re equals. 

We’re heading towards the hunched figure, the reason why we came all the way here. Before we’re in front of them they have already started speaking, “Finally we get to meet.” When we’re in front of him, he continues, “I’ve heard a lot of things about you, but it’s only now I see your face.”

At this distance, I can see the figure is wearing the same armor as the guards outside, but it’s worn. Parts of the metal are scraped, the same insignia I’ve seen all around this place has just about faded from his torn shirt. The figure is a fungus-like alien species. His eyes are two yellow, rhombuses that look as if they’re glowing because of his dull, brown, and warty skin. 

“Same to you, Shiitakee.” 

This gets a smirk out of Shiitakee, but unlike the late Cala’s smirk, this one is friendly rather than depreciating. He leans forward and places his arms on the back of the chair in front of his pew. “Congratulations on your promotion.”

“A little late for that, but  you’ve already congratulated me the day after it happened.” 

“Yes, I did.” He rummages into his shirt and pulls out a cigarette. Shiitakee slides it between his cracked lips and slides a finger across the chair. A flame swallows the edge of the finger. This new character brings the finger to his cigarette and lights it. Blowing out the finger and blowing smoke into Syco’s face, causes Syco to step back, cough, and try to blow the smell away. “Always the straight man, Syco,” Shiitakee continued with a snicker and a cough. 

“And that’s what you get.” He coughs again, but Shiitakee continues to smoke. Syco continues to act unconcerned, but he’s clearly amused. Until a few moments ago they were strangers, but now they’re acting like they are childhood friends. Shiitakee blows a few more times, which gets a few more reactions out of Syco. Their back and forth, which turns into laughter, has Saamuki and I turn to look at each other. I shrug at her. 

Eventually, they stopped. I knew right then and there it became serious again. Shiitakee moves his head back to look at the dome that is the ceiling. “It’s been years since this place has heard voices other than my prayers. The last mass was about the time I got into contact with you, Sy.”

“I was wondering why you wanted us to meet here, the center of your city.”

“Ironically, it’s the safest place to meet.”

“I could see that now, so what was so important that we had to meet in person?”

Shiitakee lowers his head. His focus is back on Syco. “Until recently I would’ve scheduled this meeting to be like the others, but I knew this deserved for you to see in person.” Again, he goes into his shirt, but when he pulls out his hand this time he motions for Syco to move his hands towards him. Syco raises his eyebrow, but Shiitakee’s expression remains serious. So, Syco compiles without any more hesitation. Shiitakee then hands him something. Carefully, unwrapping his hands, he sees Shiitakee handed him a compass. Of course, it’s unlike any compass found on Earth. Alien symbols circle its edges and instead of a needle, there’s a purple crystal at its center. As I try to look over Syco’s shoulder, wanting to inspect it more, I can also see underneath the crystal is the same motif I’ve seen over and over again. 

There couldn’t have been anyone in here besides us, but Syco questions in a hushed voice, “Is this?”

His friend nods. 

“How did you get it?”

“I,” he coughs, but this time blood comes out, “A Watcher.”

The two of us standing behind him were hit with a shock. Saamuki’s eyes are wide and if I had mine they would be too. 

“Are you insane, Shiitakee?” Syco’s voice is still quieter than usual, but he’s clearly mad. Maybe a bit disappointed too. 

“Hah. Just like you I am.” The figure that was moments ago teasing Syco, which just winked at him, is one I finally realize is dying.  

With a grunt, and after putting the compass into his pocket, steps over the chair to get to Shiitakee who I’m also now noticing has his feet stepping on a huge pile of long-dead cigarette buds. Shiitakee tries fighting Syco’s attempt at grabbing and slinging him onto his shoulder. 

“What do you think you’re doing,” Shiitakee asked as his cigarette rested in one of the corners of his lips. 

After bringing his dying companion to his shoulder, Syco takes a moment to reply with, “I’m not going to let you die like this, Shii.” 

“Are you insane?”

“You already know the answer to that.”

Syco continues towards the doors and ignores Shiitakee’s continued thrashing. The two of us, who have been third-wheeling together, follow right behind them. Right, when Syco is about to push open the doors and Shiitakee has stopped fighting, all of the candles go out in unison. I get a bad feeling. We’re not in the dark because of my crown’s fire and Saamuki’s recently lit hands. The latter of which should be brighter than the now blown out candles, but the room is much darker now. It’s as if we were suddenly transported in the middle of a black hole. 

“You have something that belongs to me,” a voice with a mix of other, varying voices growled from where we just walked away from. 

[ressarioth]

Hearts and Flowers

Amidst a field of flowers filled with memories, two strangers meet as if by chance. One of them doesn't want to forget, the other is trying to remember. In the end they find that what connects them is more solid than fate: a past that transcends a lifetime.

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen, Other

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Relationship: Aerith Gainsborough & Cloud Strife

Characters: Cloud Strife, Original Character

Additional Tags: Mild Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet, Closure, Reincarnation, Canon Universe, Canon Compliant,Post-Canon, Post Advent Children, Canonical Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Original Character(s)

Chapters: 1/1

Words: 9258

Notes: I felt like the lifestream lore screams reincarnation, so here you go. I'm aware that's not a thing established in canon, but the divergence seemed too small to tag. This is heavy with the memory of Aerith (sorry for dragging up those feelings?), but she doesn't make an active appearance. Cloud's relationship with her prior to her death is relevant though and you're free to interpret it however like. I didn't spell it out so far, but by now you might be guessing what this is about. Anyway, I'll shut up now and let you read.

AO3

The old church in Sector 5 is as quiet as ever but it has started to feel less peaceful. It has been a decade since Cloud encountered Aerith here and the building has become increasingly unstable since then. One stone wall crumbled during the catastrophe that nearly wiped out Midgar and would have destroyed the entire planet. Two years later a large part of the floor was torn up along with most remaining benches and since then the roof has become even more desolate. Pieces of wooden beams and roof tiles have fallen down from it and lie scattered across the place.

Once filled with water which sprouted from a crater where Kadaj's magic hit, the depression spanning across two thirds of the interior is now covered in flowers. They're even growing on top of debris, though some of them get crushed every time another piece comes tumbling down from above. The signs of destruction are never covered up completely, leaving Cloud with a sense of disturbance. It's an unpleasant reminder that nothing lasts forever while simultaneously serving as proof that from something old and broken new things can grow. A circle of life and death, ever repeating in front of his eyes as he stops by to reminisce his late friends.

The memories are no longer haunting as he stands in the doorway every other week, dedicating a few moments of silence to those he lost before returning home to his family. Tifa joined him once, when he stuck the Buster Sword into the top of the stone altar, but hasn't been back here since. To her this place doesn't have the same meaning as to him and she has her own ways of remembering Aerith.

A couple of times he let Marlene accompany him, because she wanted to see the flowers again. Once the roof started to dissemble and parts of it came raining down more frequently however, he decided it was too dangerous for her. As compensation he promised to pick her a small bouquet every time he went. (He still does even though Marlene is sixteen now and has grown out of the need for the ritual. But she always smells the blossoms with a smile when she receives them.)

To Cloud visiting the church is a routine he doesn't want to give up on. He hasn't heard Aerith's voice in years, so this is all he has left. It's where he allows himself to dwell on the memories of her and Zack without them taking over his life. They come up as soon as the ruined building comes into sight and he pays little attention to his surroundings as he walks up to the entrance. Once he's two steps through the doorway however, he realises he's not the only one who has come here tonight.

Cloud stops in his tracks, his eyes on the figure kneeling at the edge of the concave flower bed ahead. It appears to be a young girl in a light blue dress, humming over rustling noises which he suspects are her fingers brushing through the leaves. Since she has her back to him, he can only see her dark curls part at her nape and fall left and right over her tanned shoulders. Preoccupied with the flowers in front of her, she doesn't seem to have noticed his arrival.

Uncertain about how to respond to the situation, Cloud lingers near the entrance. At first he's surprised to find anyone else here, let alone a girl all by herself. Then he feels like he's intruding upon a personal moment, though it might be because that's what he comes here for. The only thing that keeps him from walking back out is worry about the girl. While for now she remains in the relatively safe area near the door, nothing is here to stop her from going further in. He may not know her, but he isn't going to push aside the responsibility of keeping her from walking into harm's way.

As if on cue, the humming stops and Cloud's alertness rises. The girl gets onto her feet and steps into the flower bed, carefully as if to make sure she doesn't trample the blossoms. Panic surges up inside him. Interrupting or scaring her is no longer his concern as he calls out.

"Stop!"

The words echo between stone walls and the girl freezes just three steps down the slope which was once filled to the brim with water. When she whirls around, the flowers rustle around her legs and a few petals fall off. Her brown eyes are wide in surprise as she takes in the company she wasn't aware of having. Though initially startled, she's recovering rather quickly.

"The roof has been coming down," Cloud hastens to explain. "It's dangerous to go any further."

Her gaze wanders upwards as she leans back her head and takes in the wooden beams and roof riddled with holes above her. Cloud isn't sure she grasps the actual danger of it collapsing onto her, but at least she isn't walking any further into the nave. She looks back to him and blinks at him in curiosity.

"Who are you?" the girl inquires.

Cloud doesn't think it will mean much to her, still he answers: "I'm Cloud."

"Cloud," she echoes. "That's a nice name."

The thought never occurred to him. It's his name, a part of his identity. He came to treasure it after thinking that he was an empty puppet, a failed experiment begging to be numbered just to have something to keep him from being no one at all. But he'd never attribute anything to it beyond what it means to him to have a name. So he doesn't know how to respond to the girl's remark. It might be polite to give his thanks, but he feels far too weird about it to actually do so.

"My name's Aurora," the girl introduces herself. Then she quickly adds: "It's a bit of a mouth full, I know."

"Is it?" Cloud questions, because he doesn't get that impression.

"A friend of mine says that it's too long," Aurora explains and tucks a strand of black hair behind her ear. "He calls me Aura for short, though I keep telling him that's not how nicknames work."

It's hard to tell if she's upset about the fact, but she's complaining, so it seems to have some relevance. Cloud doesn't feel like he's good at giving advice, especially to children. Tifa was always way better at handling the kids than him, so he didn't get much practice in the matter over the past decade either. But Tifa is not around right now, so he feels like he should at least give it a shot.

"If you don't like him calling you that you should tell him to stop until he does," he suggests.

Talking things over is something he's been practicing himself. It didn't come naturally, but as he tried he found that it helped him and Tifa a lot to come together. He worked at it with Marlene and Denzel as well, though when they were still younger he wasn't always sure how much he could say or how he should explain things.

"I didn't say I don't like it," Aurora clarifies, "it just makes little sense."

That seems like a strange thing to get hung up on — to Cloud at least. But he reminds himself that things that may seem negligible to him can be of importance to others. Kids in particular seem to have peculiar priorities sometimes, going by what he has learned from Marlene in her younger years. So he tries to level with Aurora as best he can.

"Nicknames don't always make sense," he tells her. "I've been called 'Spiky' more often than I can count."

Aurora gives him a thorough look before pointing out: "You have spiky hair though."

"Okay, bad example," Cloud admits, since he can't argue with her there.

His thoughts drift off, wondering if he can come up with a better example to make his point, but never reaching a conclusion. In the end he isn't really sure if Aurora needs him to pursue the topic further.

A look at her shows him that she seems unconcerned with the matter already. She has turned her back on him once again and lets her gaze wander over the flowers who are filling out most of the building. It's almost like she already forgot about him being there, because the growing vegetation in the ruin is more interesting than him. (If it were so, he couldn't blame her for taking more interest in a flower bed than in a stranger.) But it's not long before she twirls around, her dress swaying over her knees with movement, and gives him another curious look.

"So." Aurora tilts her head to the side a little. "Why did you come?"

There's a strange familiarity about those words which leaves Cloud taken aback, but he can't put his finger on what it is. It can't be the question by itself, because it is far too common in its wording to stick out. Yet something about the way Aurora paused after the "so", something about the intonation she used gives him a strange sense of déjà vu. He blinks twice and misses the moment to give a response.

Aurora is still eying him with interest, but instead of awaiting his answer or reminding him that he still owes her one, she adds another question. "Did you hear the call, too?"

"What call?"

Cloud hasn't heard anything and yet he doesn't perceive her question as strange. His thoughts immediately turn to the few times Aerith spoke to him eight years ago. Did Aerith reach out to Aurora from the lifestream? He doesn't know how it works or why she would speak to an unfamiliar girl rather than him, but it would at least mean that she's still there even though he hasn't heard from her in so long. Reason tells him it's unlikely and yet a part of his heart immediately clings to the possibility while another corner of it stings because Aerith may have spoken to someone else while staying silent on him.

"I don't know." Aurora shrugs. "I was just going for a walk when I felt like something was telling me to come here."

"Oh," Cloud says, the explanation leaving him a little disappointed. His thoughts wander off for a moment before he remembers to answer her question. "No, I didn't hear anything."

My friend though, I've heard her voice a few times after she returned to the lifestream. Cloud doesn't add that. He cannot think of a reason why he should tell Aurora about Aerith. In this place with someone who didn't know her it feels like summoning a ghost he thought he had put to rest. Besides, he's not one to share personal stories with strangers, kids or not.

Aurora casts a look at the flowers surrounding her, a few of them now trampled beneath her feet from her sudden turns. She appears to be around seven years old and curious about the world the way Marlene used to be at that age. Cloud figures it's a part of childish nature to be like that until it gets crushed by reality. That's a bleak notion however and he wants to chase it from his mind. (Marlene is growing into a cheerful young woman, Tifa has regained a lot more of her optimism than she had five years after the destruction of Nibelheim, Aerith was always full of kindness… It might just be him who lingers on some of the dark thoughts of the past.)

"Did you come here for the flowers then?" Aurora wants to know.

It's a close enough assumption. "Yeah."

She turns her back on him and crouches down where she's standing, her attention captured by the white and yellow blossoms once more. They're growing further apart than they used to back in the day when they only occupied the patch between the broken up tiles in front of the altar. The light of the setting sun is falling through the open wall, dying the scenery in a yellow glow.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Aurora comments on the flowers.

Since she's keeping up the conversation, Cloud figures she's not bothered by his presence. Slowly he walks over to the edge of the flower bed, while ensuring to keep what seems like an appropriate distance. He wouldn't want Aurora to feel crowded by him standing directly behind him, but it's also for his own comfort. Even though it's something that got better over time, he still can't help feeling a little self-conscious around new people. (Like his motion sickness it was suppressed while he believed himself to be an ex-SOLDIER but resurfaced once he sorted out his own delusions.)

Now that he's looking at her from another angle, he notices her hands moving between the stems, picking out drying leaves and scattering them on the ground. He's gripped by a vague sense of déjà vu again. Aerith did the same thing during their first meeting, though he never asked her what that was about. Back then he didn't care, now he thinks he should have.

"Yeah," Cloud agrees, his thoughts staying with Aerith as he watches Aurora tending to the flowers. (How often has he stared at the blossoms in his lifetime now?) "A friend of mine planted them here — or maybe they grew here by themselves and she was just looking after them. I…forgot."

It's one of those times when he wonders if memories can become as elusive for anyone or if it's just him that sometimes still struggles to put the pieces together. At first he thinks that he should know, that Aerith told him at some point — she must have! Then he starts questioning whether she ever did. He may have just assumed that she planted them because she was tending to them. She talked about this being the only place in Midgar where the flowers would grow, but beyond that he cannot remember.

Whenever something like this happens he's filled with a weird sense of uncertainty. It's a small reminder of the time when all he thought he was came crumbling down while he was trying so hard to hold himself together by the seems. Back then he lost himself and if it hadn't been for Tifa helping him through he may have never recovered. (He suspects that a part of him never did and it flares up in panic every time something escapes his memory, ready to doubt everything again.)

"Where's your friend now?"

Aurora's voice calls Cloud back from his thoughts and he wonders why she would ask about Aerith's whereabouts. "What?"

"You said your friend was looking after the flowers, but she isn't here now." She has turned in his direction as she's tending to the flowers, but pauses to look up at him with probing eyes. "So where is she?"

"Oh." He stares down, avoiding her gaze, then up as if to find the right words to formulate his answer floating between the rotting beams. "She...returned to the lifestream."

"Returned...to the lifestream? You mean she died?"

Cloud takes a breath and looks at Aurora again. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry," she offers quietly and lowers her head.

Silence spreads as Cloud's gaze wanders. At first he thinks that he doesn't know how to respond to her sympathy, then it slips his mind that he should answer at all. His eyes land on the pool towards the front of the nave where the water once healed him from the geostigma. He heard Aerith's voice as he was ready to chase after Kadaj again and he got the feeling she was watching over him then.

After a moment or two, Aurora inquires: "Do you miss your friend?"

"I guess I do." Cloud crouches down by the flower bed and reaches out a finger to brush over a yellow petal. "It's been ten years. I come here to check on these flowers even though they grow by themselves, because they remind me of her and…I don't want to forget."

Aurora straightens up, barely any taller while standing than he is in his crouched position. Crossing her arms behind her back, she leans forward a bit as if to get a closer look at his face. It reminds him of the way Aerith sometimes used to look at him, but the association must come easy in a place that is filled with memories of her. It seems like a lot about Aurora is reminding him of Aerith and that can only be him projecting.

"Are you sad that she's gone?" Aurora wants to know.

Cloud takes a moment to consider whether he has actually stopped being sad or whether life is just distracting enough for him to not feel it most of the time. When Aerith died in front of his eyes it felt like a wound had been ripped open that could never heal. Yet time has more healing abilities than he would've given it credit for — once he was ready to give it a chance.

"Not anymore, not really," he tells Aurora.

"Really?" She turns away and looks to the front of the nave where Zack's sword is presiding over the water. "I don't think I could ever stop being sad if I lost someone."

The answer that comes to mind probably won't comfort her, but he says it anyway. "It's part of life. None of us can walk this planet forever."

"Then what comes after?" Aurora is still staring at the sword, though he isn't sure if she's actually taking it in or if her eyes went out of focus. "The lifestream?"

"So it would seem," Cloud confirms, putting a hand to the floor to balance himself.

She turns her head slightly in his direction, but her eyes stay trained ahead. "How does that work?"

"I'm not sure," he admits. "Someone once told me that all living things come from the lifestream and also return to it again, but I don't know the details."

"Can people come back?"

The words resound in Cloud's head and he's trying to think of a definite answer, but realises he can't come up with anything. When Bugenhagen explained the lifestream to him and how its energy forms new life and merges with its main current again in a never ending cycle it didn't occur to him that it could include people's lives. So what if they can come back, if they're born and die over and over — is it a blessing or a curse?

It's hard to imagine. He feels like he's lived two lives, but one was comprised of altered memories and a false persona he had created. It was only in his head and it didn't last long before it shattered and he had to pick up the pieces, trying to figure out who he really was. An eternal circle of life and death, like the flowers in this church — it seems possible, almost comforting. Looking at Aurora who can't take her eyes off the Buster Sword he'd liked to think so — maybe.

A new life for Aerith, a happier life even — something like Aurora seems to have. Something where she doesn't have to face hardships as a child. Something where her biggest concern is what to wear or that the nickname her friend uses for her doesn't make sense. No Shinra company to hunt her, no sorrow over her dead mother, nothing that forces her to grow up too soon. Harsh life can wait a little longer before it comes for her, until she's older and stronger. He likes the idea of that though the skeptical voice in his head is telling him that he's getting carried away with unrealistic daydreaming.

"I don't know," Cloud answers Aurora's question. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason." She shrugs and he doesn't know her well enough to judge if her carefree tone is genuine this time. Then there's a shift in her as she turns and looks at him while pointing ahead. "What's the matter with that sword?"

He knows before following the direction of her finger with his eyes that she's indicating the Buster Sword sticking out of the altar. The water used to almost completely engulf the stone table and he had to wade all the way over to place the sword there. Now that the water has long since retreated, moss is growing over the stone where it used to reach.

Feeling his legs getting tense in his current position, Cloud stands back up before he answers: "It belonged to a friend of mine."

"The same friend that tended to the flowers?"

A smile crosses Cloud's face as he tries to imagine Aerith wielding the heavy broadsword. It sure would've been something to watch her beat up monsters with that instead of her staff. But then his thoughts return to Zack who carried the sword with great pride and his amusement dissolves.

"No, another friend." Cloud pauses for a moment, debating whether he should say it. But somehow it seems relevant enough not to keep it from Aurora. "He…died protecting me."

"Protecting you…," Aurora echoes and for a moment her face goes blank as she stares at the sword. But then she snaps out of her thoughts and turns to him with renewed enthusiasm. "Hey, I want to have a closer look at it, can we go?"

"I told you it's dangerous to go beyond this point," Cloud objects. He doesn't know what her sudden fascination with the sword is, but he's not her guardian or anything, so it doesn't feel comfortable letting her take the risk.

"But you're with me," she argues and comes running up to him. "You can protect me, right?" She grabs his hand and pulls at it as she adds: "Let's go together."

Cloud looks down at her in silence, unsure what he should do. Saying no would make him feel bad at this point. But protecting someone from falling debris is harder than guarding someone from monsters. Yet her expectant brown eyes are melting his resolve. He looks up at the broken ceiling as if to gauge what the chances of raining wood are. At the moment it upholds the illusion of stability, almost as if nothing would come down from it ever again. He sighs, because he knows he lost this argument.

"Fine," he relents. "But stay close to me."

Her face lightens up with a smile and she nods. "Okay!"

Cloud keeps his pace slow so Aurora can follow along with ease and guides her around any remains of wooden beams and roof tiles to minimise the chances of her stumbling over them. The whole time she holds on to his hand as if he wasn't a complete stranger to her still. It's like a sign of her trust and she makes it seem natural.

Once they arrive in front of the altar Aurora releases her grip and reaches up to the sword. Her hand barely touches the wide side of the blade sticking out of the stone even as she stands on her tiptoes. Cloud takes a gamble and lifts her up onto the altar, making sure to place her at the right side of the sword where the blade is blunt.

Her expression seems to be a mixture of awed and thoughtful as she takes in the weapon from up close. She touches the metal, singed by rust and with moss crawling up here and there. (Cloud gave up on cleaning it once the roof started coming down. It functions more like a gravestone now and not like a weapon that needs to be kept in shape.) It's hard to guess what she's thinking or why she seems so drawn to the sword.

"Sometimes I have these strange dreams," Aurora begins without prompt, her attention for the weapon still undistracted. "They go away the moment I wake up and I can only remember random images. But there's a sword like this one and I think it's protecting me."

Cloud listens, not sure where this is going. It's hard to imagine that Aurora would be dreaming of this exact sword though, so he figures it may have been some kind of broadsword and she just hasn't seen many of the likes for it to make a difference to her. It catches his interest regardless.

"Hey Cloud." Aurora interrupts her inspection of the Buster Sword and gives him a curious look. The familiarity with which she addresses him makes him feel like they've known each other for longer than this brief encounter. The impression gets brushed aside however as she voices her question: "Would your friend have protected me the way he protected you?"

Though he can't see what she's getting at with this, he answers: "Yeah probably."

His memories of Zack are still muddy. He spent a couple of months not even remembering that Zack existed and instead taking on Zack's place in several of his memories. Though he sorted out the events revolving around the mission to Nibelheim, a lot of his past is still fuzzy. The time he was held captive in the Shinra mansion remains a blank slate which he was never able to fill while his escape with Zack is a collection of random moments. The time he was part of the infantry is somewhere in between. He isn't even sure when and how he met Zack for the first time.

If what Zack did for Cloud is anything to go by though, then he wouldn't ignore anyone who needed help. So Cloud adds: "Zack was the type to do that."

"Zack…" Aurora mumbles as she turns back to the sword, yet her eyes are lowered to the ground in thought. "Zack…" She pauses for a moment before shaking her head with definiteness. "No, it wasn't Zack. He was like Zack, but different."

Surprise, shock, wonder. A sense of reality rippling around him and threatening to slip away like in a dream. Aurora can't possibly know Zack, she is far too young to have ever met him. Still, in this moment Cloud feels like she knows exactly who Zack was. Reason tells him that it can't be. He's imagining things, interpreting meaning into her words that she didn't put there, tying them up with his own memories. It must be some kind of coincidence, that the person she's thinking of happens to have the same name or that she's mixing up the names entirely.

"Aurora," Cloud starts, the thought too pressing to dismiss despite its improbability. "Do you remember Zack?"

"Mhh." Aurora puts her loose fist to her chin in thought. (It's just a gesture, Cloud reminds himself to fight off the familiarity, Aerith wasn't the only person in the world to use it.) "Dark hair, goofy grin, thought he could do anything." She chuckles at the thought before she digresses. "Emil reminds me a bit of him sometimes. But he's not who I'm looking for."

The description matches, yet it's also too vague to say for sure. What catches Cloud's attention though is her mentioning the fact that she's looking for someone. It seems to be the reason why she took interest in Zack and the Buster Sword. At least that is the impression he's getting. He still isn't entirely sure how it's all supposed to tie together — or if it ties together at all.

"Who are you looking for?" Cloud inquires.

"I can't remember what he looked like." Aurora gazes into the air for a moment and sways her upper body in thought, her dress swinging along with the movement. "At first he reminded me of Zack somehow, but there was something else about him." She looks back at the weapon, though her eyes seem to stare through it as her face turns somber. "I think he was lost, but he still tried to move forward."

A strange feeling fills Cloud's stomach. Aurora's descriptions still aren't anything concrete, but it's starting to fit together too well to be a coincidence. As impossible as it may seem, these could be Aerith's words describing him. She once said he reminded her of Zack and though she never made a comment about him seeming lost, maybe that was actually the feeling she got from him. In a way he had lost himself when he met her and maybe she sensed it.

"I wanted to help him but…" Aurora's voice drifts off and he can see her face fall, her eyes still staring ahead. "He came for me — but I couldn't stay. I couldn't help him."

With every word she sounds more upset, but that's not the only reason Cloud's stomach is starting to twist. It's like the past is catching up to him in a way he never expected. You came for me — that's all that mattered. Aerith's words echo in his head as if he'd heard them only yesterday. They were part of what led him to forgive himself for not being able to prevent her death. Learning that she never blamed him was taking one step away from blaming himself.

With his lingering attachment to Aerith it was hard to move on, but eventually he was able to do it — in part through her intervention. He never considered the other side of it. He never thought that Aerith would be the one left with unresolved feelings. Yet Aurora sounds like the ghost of her and he feels less and less like he can shake it off as his imagination going wild. He would never claim to have seen it all, but after everything that he has come across he doesn't believe in coincidences as big as this one would have to be.

These thoughts take a backseat however when Aurora turns to him and he notices the tears rolling down her cheeks. "Why couldn't I help him?"

Cloud's heart stings in his chest as he sees her like that. Whatever her dreams mean — whether she's somehow connected to Aerith's consciousness in her sleep or something else is at play here — he doesn't want her to have to be upset. Without thinking about it, he reaches out and rests his hand against the side of her head.

"Hey, it's okay," he tries to sooth her.

"It's not okay!" Aurora objects and stomps her foot, the outburst causing him to retrieve his hand as suddenly as she moved.

She's right, it isn't. For her it clearly isn't okay. Cloud cannot change that by simply saying that it is. In his experience with Marlene and Denzel as kids they always responded best when he acknowledged their feelings, regardless of whether he could understand the extent of them or not. It seems like the best approach for Aurora here as well.

"You're sad, I get that," Cloud makes another attempt to comfort Aurora. "But maybe you don't have to be. Maybe there's another way to look at it and you'll see that things aren't as bad as you think."

He wants to bite his tongue. Without thinking he addressed her as if Aerith was the one in front of him, upset that she couldn't help him while he just wanted her to see how much she did for him. But she can't be — this girl, Aurora, isn't Aerith and he's doing her wrong by not seeing her as who she is. Troubled and ashamed, he lowers his gaze, his eyes landing where the Buster Sword pierces the stone altar.

Can people come back? Aurora's words pop into his mind and Cloud scolds himself for clinging onto them. But what if people could come back, what if they did? A circle of life and death, starting over again, a soul transformed into someone new. It would explain why Aurora dreams of a life that isn't her own. It would explain why she took such interest in the Buster Sword, why she remembers Zack, why Cloud can't shake the feeling that the one she's looking for is him. It would even explain why she found her way here in the first place, as if a good-willed soul from the lifestream had guided her here so that she could meet him.

It sounds incredible, even to Cloud as he's going over everything in his head. Yet inside him a conviction grows that it's the truth — as much as a fear that in his realisation of this he may cause harm. It's like everything he knows about life and death and the lifestream is coming together and making sense. But even if he's right, even if he's in the middle of discovering something not even a wise man like Bugenhagen seems to know, he can't get carried away with it. As much as Aurora reminds him of Aerith, as much as she seems to have at least some of Aerith's memories, he mustn't forget that she's her own person.

Who knows, maybe she isn't even supposed to remember. It could be Aerith's strong attachment to him that is keeping her trapped in this state. If so, then Aurora might have been guided here so he could help her move on. The thought conjures mixed feelings in him. It's almost like now that he has accepted he cannot be with Aerith, the image of her is presented before him, almost close enough to touch but obscured and already drifting away from him again. Yet a part of him is thankful for the chance to get to be the one helping her for once.

"Are you going to tell me it was just a dream, too?"

Aurora's voice has Cloud look up to meet her gaze. It's challenging just like her tone, despite her being hoarse from crying. He was so caught up in his own head he didn't even notice her sobs subsiding, but she seems to have stopped crying and calmed herself a little. The tears are gone from her face — rubbed dry, he would guess — and her lips are pursed.

"My mum says that's all it was," she continues, "but I know it was more. It was real!"

It would be easy to deny it, to deny that he has any idea of what she might be talking about or any theory as to what is going on. But that's not the answer Aurora is looking for. Whether he's right or not, he feels like he owes it to her for even suspecting that she could've been reborn from Aerith's consciousness: a chance to figure out for herself what this is about.

"I know," Cloud assures her, almost forgetting about caution. "I know it was real."

I know why you're here. I know what your dreams are about. I have lived it after all. He stops himself short from saying it. It wouldn't feel right, as if he was pushing Aurora into a role that may not even fit her. He wants to help her but not by burdening her with his own expectations. That would be selfish. If he's going to do this then it has to be about Aurora and not his own attachment to the person he suspects she used to be.

So instead he asks: "What else do you remember?"

Cloud isn't really sure how this will go. Maybe he'll be able to confirm what his gut is telling him. But he also cannot ignore the possibility that Aurora has access to Aerith's memories for some other reason. All he can say for now is that Aurora seems to be haunted by them. So he hopes that by guiding her along to figure out why she has this connection to Aerith's past he can find a way to release her from it.

While considering his question, Aurora lets her eyes wander around the inside of the building. Then a smile touches her lips and she exclaims: "The flowers."

Looking over his shoulder, Cloud finds her gaze has stopped on a spot in the flower bed near the pool of water.

"This is the only place they would grow and I loved it here. I looked after them, I sold them." With every word she cheers up a little more and his heart grows heavier. Her identification with Aerith is becoming more and more apparent and he isn't sure it's a good sign. "He bought one from me. Then he came crashing through the roof and nearly fell on top of me — gave me a bit of a scare."

Aurora laughs at the mention of it, but it fades when something occurs to her. "Your friend…you said she looked after the flowers here."

It's like Cloud can see the pieces fall into place in her head and the realisation dawn on her face. Something inside him recoils. He doesn't want this for her. She's just a kid, why does she have to remember that life which was filled with so much pain and trouble? Aerith may have seemed like she was handling it well, but thinking back, deep down he sensed that things were weighing her down more than she let on.

"Was I…her?"

Cloud closes his eyes, his face twisting in pain. The answer is yes, he's sure of that now. When he fabricated memories of himself in Zack's shoes a lot of the feelings he attached to them were still his own: the admiration he held for Sephiroth, the pride he certainly would've felt had he made SOLDIER, the anger and grief about his hometown burning. Besides, he was there during it all, he just altered the role he played in it. Yet Aurora only seems to know the events from Aerith's perspective and her accounts felt so authentic in reflecting what must have been Aerith's emotions.

He was like Zack but different. Aerith had said he reminded her of her first boyfriend and only gradually did he learn that she was talking about Zack and that he'd known Zack himself. But despite meeting Cloud only when he was holding the fake persona reminiscent of how Zack used to be, she caught onto something being amiss. I'm searching for you. When she said those words during the gondola ride at the Golden Saucer he didn't understand what she meant. Only after her death when he had rediscovered himself did it start to make sense.

Part of him thinks he should be happy to have found Aerith again, but it doesn't feel right. For all she remembers, for all she knows, Aurora isn't the young woman who asked him to be her bodyguard in exchange for a date. She isn't the last of the Cetra who used her heritage to summon Holy. Aurora is a girl who was born into this world after Cloud fought Sephiroth twice to stop him from destroying the planet. It's not fair that Aurora should have to be burdened by the past like this. Why couldn't she just have a simple childhood for once? After all Aerith has been through, why should Aurora have to suffer for it as well?

"Cloud…you…," Aurora's voice trails off. "Are you the one I'm looking for?"

As Cloud opens his eyes he finds Aurora looking at him with a mixture of wonder and recognition. He doesn't know what to say. Her words up until now leave no doubt: she was searching for him and now she found him — or he found her, whichever it is. If it's true, if she somehow is Aerith or was Aerith, then he thinks he should be happy to get to meet her. But for however much his heart clung to the memory of Aerith, he can't feel joy about recognising her in Aurora. Aurora was crying, because Aerith cared so much for him that even in a new life she couldn't let him go. The thought leaves him with guilt, because it means that indirectly he caused Aurora pain.

"You are, aren't you?" Her words come faster in her excitement. "Yes, of course! Cloud — I remember now!" She tilts her head to the side and studies his face. "You seem kind of different, I almost didn't recognise you."

His tongue is tied. There's so much to say — Cloud thinks there has to be — but not one fitting word comes to mind. Aurora is looking at him expectantly and he cannot guess what she's hoping for, but it worries him. He never thought about the concept of reincarnation before or how it might work, but he knows how hard it is to start over when the past is clinging to one's bones. That's not what a child should have to deal with.

"Cloud, it's me, Aerith."

Frozen to the spot, unable to move. She said the name, he never gave it. It's her, of course it's her. Was there ever any doubt? Part of him knew early on, but he thought he was projecting because he couldn't let go. Now that she has confirmed his suspicion it feels more amiss than ever.

"I can come with you," Aurora suggests with hope in her voice. "This time I can stay."

Cloud shakes his head. A part of him is selfish enough to want to take Aurora up on her offer, but he shuts it down. It's wrong. She's just a kid, filled with a desire she probably doesn't understand herself. If anything, they're Aerith's feelings and they belong to the past, a past that ended years ago.

"You're not Aerith."

Aurora's face falls and he can see the tears well up again. "But I remember it! The time we spent together!"

Her eyes are imploring him, her lips are begging. She is a child indeed and none of Aerith's lifetime can negate that — a child that doesn't want to get left behind. It breaks his heart to tell her no, because he knows it can never work, not like this. He couldn't forgive himself if he allowed for her to get dragged under by those memories he nearly drowned in himself. It caused him to lose touch with his family and friends for awhile — everyone who was there with him but he couldn't see because Aerith's death and his guilt were blinding him. He doesn't want that for her.

"I know you remember." Cloud reaches out and takes hold of her hands. Her cheeks are wet with tears again. "But you're Aurora now. You've got friends and family of your own that have nothing to do with who you used to be. Don't throw that away for a past that can never come back to life. Trust me with this, I know all about it."

"But I…I have to help you," she sniffs, a tear dripping down her chin. "I have to make you happy!"

It hurts how much she clings to him, her small fingers digging into his palms. Still Cloud manages a smile for her, albeit filled with a little sadness.

"I am happy — I'm okay," he assures her. "So now it's your turn. Don't forget to find your own happiness just because of me. I couldn't bear it."

Aurora shakes her head. Her eyes dart upwards as if in search for a response, her mouth is sealed in confusion. Cloud pulls her into a hug and she presses into him. Her face easily rests against his shoulder, the altar upon which she is standing making up for the difference in height. The sobs are rocking through her body and he gently strokes her back.

"You helped me years ago, you just couldn't see it. You helped me to help myself."

Her hands squeeze into the fabric of his shirt and he holds onto her while she's letting it all out. It takes some time but eventually he thinks her breath is calming down. Her tears are going silent or maybe even drying up — he cannot tell, because her face is pressed against his shoulder and way out of his sight.

"It's alright. I'm not alone and neither are you." Cloud references the last conversation they had when he caught a final glimpse of Aerith here in this church. He doesn't know if Aurora remembers that part as well, but even if she doesn't she should be able to understand. That's why he can tell her gently: "You can let go now."

Aurora clings to him tightly. If possible, she wraps her arms around him a little harder.

"It hurts," she says, her voice quiet with a hint of her pain. "It hurts to let go."

"I know."

So he doesn't force her, he doesn't break away from the embrace. She has to be ready to release him. She needs the time to do it at her own pace, that way the pain heals the best. It took him two years, but he wants to have faith that Aurora can do better. Getting to say goodbye makes all the difference.

Cloud doesn't count the seconds, he doesn't guess the minutes. His focus is on holding Aurora and giving her comfort until she breaks away. Once she lets go of him she does it slowly and he deliberately doesn't try to speed up the process. When they're facing each other again, she wipes away the remnants of her tears even though they seem dried up for the most part.

"Better?" Cloud wants to know and she nods. They exchange a small smile, both still recovering from the load of the emotions they just worked through.

It is getting late, the light outside dimming as the sun closes in on the horizon and the air cooling off. Soon it will be dark and no parent likes for their child to be out alone at night, not even in summer. If Aurora's parents haven't been wondering where she's gone off to yet, then they sure must be starting to worry about now.

"I should take you home," Cloud notes, remembering his responsibility as an adult. "Your parents must be worried."

Aurora nods and he stretches out his arms in a silent offer to lift her from the altar. As she leans in and supports herself on his shoulders, he picks her up and puts her gently on the uneven ground. Without question she slips her hand into his and lets him leads the way back towards the entrance. Once they reach the end of the flower bed however, she slows her steps and comes to a halt. Noticing that she's no longer following, he stops and turns around to check on her.

"Can we stay just a moment longer?" Aurora requests and Cloud notices not for the first time that he finds it hard to resist the pleading eyes of a child.

With concern he looks at the darkening sky through the open wall, the last glimmer of sunlight no longer reaching into the nave. He shouldn't allow any more delays, he's the adult and Aurora should get back to her family as soon as possible. But when he looks at her again he finds his resolve melt. After all he wanted to give her the time that she needs to let go, maybe she wants to say goodbye to this place as well.

"Alright," Cloud agrees, though the word leaves his lips with an audible breath. "But really just for a bit."

Aurora nods in affirmation and releases his hand so that she can sit down at the edge of the floorboards, her feet sticking into the flower bed. He watches her with scepticism at first, thinking that the floor is dirty enough to ruin her dress, but she doesn't seem to mind. Then he smiles. It's a little thing like that which makes him think that the carefree days of childhood aren't completely lost on her yet, even if memories of her past life have been on her mind.

Oblivious of his thoughts Aurora looks at him over her shoulder and pats the floor beside her. "Come, sit down."

Cloud wasn't going to, but like this he can hardly refuse. So he settles in beside her and takes in the view of the semi-dark interior of the church. When she leans against his arm, he looks down at her, startled yet again by how familiar she acts with him. But he's willing to let her have this as well.

The shadows have stretched throughout the entire ruin. Cloud decides that once he cannot see any silver lining on the horizon from where he's sitting the time is up. It won't be long before then, but it's the most he feels comfortable to allow at this point. He knows someone must be waiting for Aurora to return home.

Cloud remembers that he couldn't look at Elmyra when bringing her the news of Aerith's death. Tifa did most of the talking and when the tears started to flow he felt dizzy and claustrophobic around everyone in the small living room. Though the worst was probably explaining it to Marlene who asked about the nice lady who protected her from the bad men. Once again he felt tongue tied and had to leave things to Tifa.

It was a strange feeling, like he needed to apologise to them both for letting Aerith die but the words never came over his lips. In the end his guilt was something that couldn't be absolved by anyone but himself. It was Aerith that helped him see that, but it seems she never realised that she succeeded. Maybe that's why Aurora was drawn here, so that she could meet him and let go of the past herself.

Cloud looks down at Aurora who is gazing into the semi-darkness as if it didn't bother her. Her face is shrouded in shadows so he can't make out her expression, but he thinks her sorrow has subsided. He's not sure what's going to happen once he has brought her home. Should he ask her to forget about him, to ignore that he lives in the same city so she can focus on the people in her new life? Could he even do that? He cannot shake the thought that it might be for the better, he cannot shake the feeling that he doesn't really want to.

There's a wish to see Aurora grow up, to watch over her. It stings a little to acknowledge that maybe this wouldn't be in her best interest. After all, how can he expect her to move on from the past when he's around to remind her of it? That wouldn't be fair, as much as he already finds himself attached to her. (He's not sure how much of that is tied to knowing that she used to be Aerith. While his head acknowledges that she's her own person, his heart may not have gotten the memo.)

Closing his eyes, Cloud suppresses a sigh. He'll just have to go with it. When it comes to kids he's doing his best not to be selfish. He told Aurora not to throw away the people in her life for Aerith's past and he's going to stand by it. So if keeping away from her helps with that then he's going to do it. It's not his responsibility to stick around and ensure her happiness, like it isn't her responsibility to do the same for him. He'll have to trust that she will find her way without him.

"Hey Cloud?" Aurora interrupts his musings.

Cloud opens his eyes to find the horizon has gone completely dark. He pushes it aside for the sake of responding to Aurora who seems to have something on her mind. With a low humming sound he indicates that he's listening while he stares ahead, letting his eyes adapt to the dark.

"Can I see you again?"

There's little point in trying to read Aurora's expression, still he turns his head towards her. It's ironic she should ask him this just as he was trying to strengthen his resolve to say goodbye forever. Now she threatens to make it all crumble again with one question.

Cloud needs to buy time to think. There's no prior knowledge he can fall back on about people being reborn. No one can tell him if one is ever supposed to be able to remember one's past life or if that is a dilemma in itself. He can only guess if continued contact to elements of one's previous life did more harm than good. It makes him feel like his choice now carries so much more weight.

"Do you really want to?" Cloud asks in return.

It's hard to tell in the dark engulfing them, but he thinks Aurora gives a nod.

"I want to," she insists. "I promise I won't ignore my family and friends like you said, but that doesn't mean I have to ignore you instead, does it?"

"I suppose it doesn't," Cloud agrees without making any promises.

He wants to say yes. As much as he tells himself to trust in Aurora growing up well and leading a good life, he'd like to be around and see it happen. There are no guarantees it will work out, but he tells himself that if he would turn out to be a disturbing factor then he could still explain to Aurora that it's better if he stays out of her life. Like that he at least would have tried to make it work.

"Alright," Cloud concludes. "Let's give it a shot."

"Yay!" Aurora leans in and gives him a hug from the side, squashing his arm between their bodies. In her excitement she starts babbling: "I'm going to introduce you to my parents. And the baby. Well, it isn't born yet but you can feel it kick in mommy's tummy. And wait till you meet Emil! He's a bit silly sometimes but it's kind of cute."

Cloud smiles at her enthusiasm and lets her lean into him as Aurora rambles. There's a mental image he gets of her introducing him to everyone as her friend from her past life. He should probably ask her to stick to having met him by chance and letting him take her home. The whole truth would probably be a bit too much for most people.

"Okay." Aurora releases him and gets to her feet. "I'm ready to leave now."

His nod is probably lost on her in the dark, but once he stands up beside her, she finds his hand with her own again.

"Let's get you home then," Cloud announces and carefully leads her towards the open door.

Neither of them is looking back as they head out, the near undisturbed scenery inside the church covered in darkness and only interrupted by their footsteps on the wooden tiles. Not even the beams remaining beneath the roof are creaking in the wind tonight. Cloud figures he worried a bit too much about Aurora's safety, but better safe than sorry aside, it was what got them to talk in the first place.

It may have been coincidence or fate which brought them together in this place — he isn't sure how much influence he ascribes to the former and how much he believes in the latter — but it doesn't really matter. Aurora found what she was looking for and he got to return a kindness which was offered to him long ago. What will come of it now, only time will tell.