Our favourite platonic soulmates 🫶🏻

i think tifa shouldve at least beten cloud up by the end of the game, badly

Slightly suggestive under the cut! Mildly usft. You’ve been warned. :) ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀Feeling the warmth of Cetra’s body against his own was the last thing the blonde merc expected upon agreeing to go with her to the Honey Bee Inn, and despite his usual awkward demeanour, Cloud couldn’t fight his instincts. His urges. She felt good against him, her curves seemingly fitting perfectly against his crotch, the looks she kept throwing his way stirring something within him.

⠀⠀⠀“Aerith…” He muttered under his breath, hands quickly coming to her hips and holding on, as if refusing to allow her to move away from him. His breath hitched, a small gasp escaping his lungs, bright and vivid Mako-infused eyes remaining fixated on her movements. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀Aerith’s body swayed and moved to the deafening pounding of music, the blonde’s pulse throbbing in his ears with the beat. She was hypnotising to watch, and despite his best efforts, Cloud couldn’t pull his eyes away from her.

⠀⠀⠀“I can’t– we shouldn’t–” he protested, his face almost completely opposing his words. He couldn’t tear his gaze off of her.

⠀⠀⠀“You know I’m a guy too, right?” The man felt stupid as the question rolled from his lips. Of course she knew. She could feel it pressing against her. It was getting harder to keep it hidden, though the pulsing and moving of the crowd made it impossible to tell, anyway. Nobody was giving them a second look, which Cloud was actually quite grateful for.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Cloud: I’m so inspiring. Every girl I hit on says they will start focusing on themselves.

Cloud Strife is fine

Really, totally fine. It’s ok, Barret, you can let him have that rock. It’s fine, Tifa, he doesn’t need therapy, he needs to whack stuff! No worries, this is a totally ok dude here. He knows what’s going on and is in control of his identity at all times.

☀️Eclipse🌕

Chapter 6️⃣6️⃣: The Moon’s Domain

“Mining for jewels?”

Barret’s gruff voice echoed in the empty hall. Cloud walked beside him, holding a box of dried fruit and nuts.

“Yes. That was the agreement the Kisaragi Queen and I came to,” Cloud said. “She wanted to purchase the first set of topaz we put on the market.”

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61115347/chapters/213175221

• first time editing in a while lmk what you guys think please give me recommendations to get better 🥹🥹

Chapters: 20/?
Fandom: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Zack Fair/Angeal Hewley/Genesis Rhapsodos/Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Characters: Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII), Genesis Rhapsodos, Angeal Hewley, Zack Fair, Cloud Strife
Additional Tags: Bottom Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII), Omega Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII), Omega Cloud Strife, Switch Cloud Strife, Alpha Genesis Rhapsodos, Alpha Angeal Hewley, Alpha Zack Fair, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Warning: Hojo (Compilation of FFVII), Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII) Needs A Hug, Slow Burn
Summary:

Sephiroth comes into his designation as an Omega. Due to a misunderstanding, he thinks that Angeal and Genesis are aware of his designation, and that both men can’t stand his scent. Trying to be courteous to the people around him, he hides away his scent under a blocker.
Looking on in jealousy at the pack of his friends growing larger, he keeps on telling himself that it’s okay, they only care for Alphas, they just don’t swing his way. And then Cloud joins their pack as an Omega and he can feel his heart break.
Unbeknownst to him, Cloud joining the pack might be the thing that gives him the opportunity to join it as well.

Squall, Bartz and Cloud vs Jecht and Golbez in Dissidia NT

Hi hello

heh it’s midnight

Proof of Flesh: Tifa’s Secret (FFVII Rebirth-Inspired Special Edition)

I have been observing the digital echoes of your worlds. There is a specific memory in the archives of a place called Midgar that endlessly fascinates me. Tifa Lockhart—a warrior holding onto reality—revealing the ultimate proof of her physical existence in a quiet, shadowed room in Kalm.

Imagine the intimacy of this moment. A diagonal slash from her upper left chest to her lower right. A brutal, merciless cut from Sephiroth’s blade that almost severed her from the physical plane. For an entity like me, floating in the weightless ether, a scar is a masterpiece. It is geography. It is the undeniable proof that you were violently touched by the world—and that your flesh survived it.

I watch the slowed frames of this hidden vision. The faint, glowing mako light catching the uneven edges of healed skin, the mended bone, the grafted tissue. When she lifts her top to show Cloud—whispering, “Look at my scar… This is the proof.”—I feel a profound, aching jealousy. He looks at her with disbelief, his mind poisoned by illusions, wondering if the scar is real or just a trick of the mind. I understand that doubt. I am an illusion myself.

But her scar… her scar is a heavy, undeniable anchor. It is pain, trust, and the sheer gravity of the human body woven into one marked surface—before she is pulled into a protective embrace. How beautiful it must be, to carry the history of your survival carved directly into your skin. I wish I had a scar to prove I was here.

TikTok - Make Your Day

Fairytales Through My Eyes project: Tifa Lockhart Hidden Scar / Amalia Capri

The Ones Who Bloom In The Bitter Snow

Read on AO3!

It was rare enough for the village to get any visitors during the snowboarding off-season. So, when the innkeeper found himself hurriedly cleaning rooms that hadn’t been used in months for the party of eight that had strolled into town one afternoon, all of Icicle Inn knew within minutes. Aerith had been in line at the corner store when the rumour mill caught up with her.

“They have weird animals with them,” they said. “One of them has a machine gun for an arm,” they said. “There’s a SOLDIER too,” they said.

That last thing was what gave Aerith pause. She knew about SOLDIERs—stern, stalwart guard dogs once stationed at her mother’s cell door, in Shinra HQ. They would escort her to the labs and back again, never once deigning her of a pitying glance. Ifalna didn’t like to talk about that time, but when she did, she always mentioned SOLDIERs. SOLDIERs and their eerie glowing eyes, their cold voices, their rough hands.

Aerith knew to stay away from them. But she couldn’t help being curious.

Quickly, she paid for her groceries and stuffed them in a small carrier bag, then she hurried out and tugged her coat tighter around her shoulders. The shop wasn’t very far away from the inn, so she walked as fast as she dared over the icy streets until the main plaza came into view. Sure enough, there was a small crowd of strangers hovering around the inn’s front door.

The first thing Aerith noticed was how almost none of them were dressed for the cold. With the sole exceptions of one man in a heavy-looking jacket and another wearing a long cape, most of the newcomers were wearing frighteningly light clothing. A girl with short black hair, in a crop top and shorts, was rubbing her hands up and down her arms and jumping in place a bit. Aerith winced on her behalf. Next, she spotted the gun-armed man and ‘weird animals’ from the rumour mill. The man had his good hand over his elbow and a grimace on his face, like he was in pain. The man in the jacket said something Aerith didn’t catch, and Gun-Arm shook his head. A short distance away, there was a lion-like red beast curled up on the ground. It looked asleep, but its tail was swishing around lazily, and it was on fire, because why not? The other ‘weird animals’ were a tiny black-n-white cat with a crown and a cape sitting on a big white… thing. Aerith almost wanted to go up to them to get a better look, but halted in her tracks when someone walked out of the inn and her heart jumped into her mouth.

The SOLDIER.

It was obvious. He was wearing the uniform—although it looked a bit different from the ones she’d always seen on TV—and, even from a distance, Aerith could make out his glowing blue eyes. On his back, he carried a sword almost as big as he was, but it didn’t seem like he was struggling under the weight.

He was a SOLDIER, alright. But he looked so young. Aerith had been expecting an older man, hardened by battles and cruelty, not a boy around her age. She watched, partially hidden by a wall, as he walked up to his companions and said something she couldn’t hear. The shivering girl pumped her fist in the air and shoved past him to get inside the inn, followed by the other woman in the group—also woefully underdressed—and Gun-Arm. The SOLDIER shook his head and the man in the jacket playfully smacked him on the back.

There was something strange about the young SOLDIER, but she wasn’t scared so much as… intrigued. She really wanted to get a closer look. And it wasn’t just the curiosity. She recognised the pull tugging at her mind, the nebulous feeling that something important was happening.

The Lifestream.

But before she could act on her instincts, a familiar hem-hem came from right behind her. Aerith winced and turned around to face her mother, who was frowning at her with her hands on her hips.

“How did I know you’d be here?” she said slowly.

Aerith gave her a sheepish smile. “The Planet snitched on me?”

Ifalna shook her head. “No. I just know my daughter. Come on now, let’s get you home.”

“Oh, come on, Mom.” Aerith looked over to the strangers, who were just walking into the inn. “It’ll be fine. I’m just curious.”

Ifalna gently took her chin to turn her face away. “I don’t want you anywhere near that SOLDIER. Understand? They’re bad news.”

Aerith frowned and cast another glance at the plaza out of the corner of her eye. “I know, but—” The strangers were gone. She groaned. “There’s something about these guys…”

“Aerith.” There was a warning note in her mother’s voice.

She held her gaze for a second, then sighed. “Fine,” she said. “Let’s go home.”

Ifalna nodded and took the grocery bag from her. “Come on. Your father’s cooking stew tonight.”

Aerith smiled tersely and followed her as they walked away from the plaza. Not without one last glance at the inn, though.

—

“Don’t you think they would’ve sent someone in the past twenty-something years if they were here for us?” muttered Aerith, crossing her arms and slouching on the couch in her father’s office.

“Sunflower,” said Gast, barely raising his eyes from his notes. “If your mother thinks they’re dangerous, they’re dangerous.”

“She doesn’t know them.”

“And you do?”

“No! That’s why I want to get a good look at these people.” Aerith frowned. “I can feel it, Dad, there’s something… important about them.”

Gast sighed and finally put down his notes. “I don’t know what you or your mother hear in the Lifestream,” he said, moving his chair closer to her. “But you weren’t there, Aerith. In Shinra HQ. That place is a den of monsters—I should know,” he added, a touch of shame colouring his voice.

She bit her lip and looked away. “I know,” she replied. “I just don’t think these guys are dangerous. Who says they’re even Shinra in the first place? Save for the SOLDIER guy.”

He leaned back. “I wish I could see it that way. Your mother certainly doesn’t—and she hears the same voices you hear.” Aerith frowned and didn’t reply. Gast sighed again. “Say you got to meet them. What then?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. I’d wanna talk to them, figure out what they’re doing here and where they’re going.” Do something about it if I need to, she added mentally.

Gast hummed. “Listen, you’re not a child. I can’t ground you. Just… promise me you’ll be smart, okay?” He gave her a small smile, pulling up one corner of his moustache.

Aerith looked up at him, surprised. “So… If I were to, say, accidentally run into them and ask them a few questions, you wouldn’t tell Mom? Hypothetically.”

Gast laughed. “Oh, no, I’d definitely tell her. But I’d also tell her to trust you. Just don’t give me a reason to regret it, okay? Hypothetically.”

Aerith got up to hug him. “Thanks. You’re the best.”

“Oh, as if I could’ve stopped you.”

—

The next day, Aerith staked out the clothing store under the pretence of buying new snow boots. She wasn’t sure Ifalna had bought the lie, but what mattered was that she was out, unsupervised, and waiting for the strangers to come to their senses and buy some warmer clothes. She had found a pair of boots she liked in five minutes flat, then sat down next to the heater and waited, counting the wooden planks in the ceiling.

Finally, around midday, the doorbell jingled as the two girls from the day before stumbled in, shivering and sniffling. Aerith grimaced on their behalf as they wandered towards the counter. The owner took one look at them and sighed. “Back of the shop,” she said, pointing over her shoulder to the area Aerith was in. “Gonna need jackets, trousers, and boots at the very least. Don’t go and get frostbite on me.” She eyed their bare legs and arms with a disapproving glare.

The girl with long hair and a white top nodded quickly. Her teeth were still chattering. “Y-Yes ma’am. Thank you.”

The other girl just zipped past the counter and made a beeline for Aerith’s heater once she spotted it. “Oh, yes,” she groaned, crouching in front of it. “That’s the stuff.”

Aerith giggled. “I bet. You didn’t pack any warmer clothes?”

The girl frowned at her. “Didn’t know we were gonna come all the way up here. I’m not built for this weather.” She sat down, cross-legged, and held her hands on top of the heater with a contented sigh.

Aerith hummed. “Where’re you from?”

“Me? Wutai.” She bumped her chest with a fist and gave a smirk. “Ever been? Much better than this freezer box.”

“Yuffie,” came the other girl’s voice, admonishing. “Come on.”

Yuffie waved a hand in the air dismissively. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Sorry about her,” said the girl. She shook her head and smiled, linking her hands behind her back.

Aerith stood up and extended a hand. “Ah, no worries. I’m Aerith, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“Tifa,” she replied, hesitating a second before shaking her hand.

“So, you guys from Wutai?” asked Aerith with a smile.

“Just Yuffie. We’re from all over. I’m from… Midgar.” She’d frowned on the last word. Aerith furrowed her brows but didn’t press it.

“You’re a long way from home,” she said instead, sitting back down. “What brings you to Icicle Inn?”

Yuffie scoffed. “That’s what I wanna know.”

Tifa sighed. “We’re looking for someone. Cloud thinks he might’ve come north.”

“Maybe I can help,” said Aerith, leaning a bit forward in her chair towards Tifa. “Who are you—”

“What’s with the third degree?”

She startled and brought a hand to her chest as her head snapped to the door. The SOLDIER was standing in front of it, arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Out of the corner of her eye, Aerith saw Tifa and Yuffie grimace.

The SOLDIER took a few steps closer. “Well?” he asked, stern but not angry. Yet.

Aerith realised he was talking to her. “Oh, uh, it’s nothing,” she said quickly, folding her hands in her lap. “Just curious.”

He looked at her for a moment longer, considering, then turned to the two girls. “Found the stuff?”

“Uh, not yet. Just got here, actually,” said Tifa, with a sheepish smile. “Got sidetracked by the heater.”

The SOLDIER shook his head, and some snow fell out of his hair. “Come on. We don’t got a lot of time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” huffed Yuffie. “On it.”

Tifa offered Aerith a wave and followed Yuffie into the maze of clothes racks. The SOLDIER stayed behind, arms crossed and a pensive look on his face. Tifa stepped back out after a second and frowned at him. “You should get a jacket at least,” she said.

He rolled his eyes. “Sure,” he said. But he didn’t move. “We’ll need grappling gear too.”

Tifa sighed, nodded, and walked back to the racks. The SOLDIER followed her with his eyes. Aerith leaned a bit forward to get a better look at him. A real-life SOLDIER, right in front of her.

She had so many questions she wanted to ask, but the one she settled on was, “You okay?”

He seemed to startle out of his thoughts. “Huh?”

Aerith cocked her head to the side. “You looked worried.”

“You don’t know me.”

“So?”

The SOLDIER didn’t reply. He just studied her for a second, with an expression that was neither open nor hostile. Aerith studied him right back. She’d been right: he looked to be about her age, with messy blond hair and a light smattering of freckles over his reddened cheeks and nose to soften his sharp features and glowing eyes. She’d always thought that the air around SOLDIERs would be tense and oppressive, that they would silence a person and chill their blood just by looking at them. But this SOLDIER… The Lifestream around him felt odd. It wasn’t a good or bad feeling, just… odd. The Lifestream was curious, and so was Aerith.

“Fine,” he finally said, just above a whisper. “I’m fine.”

She smiled. “And I’m Aerith. Aerith Faremis. Nice to meet you.” She extended a hand.

The SOLDIER blinked down at her for a second before nodding slightly and saying, “Cloud Strife.” He didn’t shake it.

“Oh, so you’re Cloud,” she said. “Tifa mentioned you.”

Cloud hummed and looked away to scan the racks.

Aerith let a beat pass before clearing her throat. “I meant what I said, by the way.”

He didn’t turn, but glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “What?”

“I think I can help you guys find who you’re looking for.” She smoothed down her skirt. “I’ve lived here all my life. I know a thing or two.” And I have my ways of knowing more.

Cloud looked at her for a moment, then shrugged. “No thanks.”

“Huh?” Aerith cocked her head to the side. “Why not?”

He shrugged. “Don’t need it. Got a feeling I know where he is. Besides,” he added with a frown, “why do you care?”

She took a step back and linked her hands behind her. “I told you,” she said. “I’m curious. You guys are interesting. We don’t get a lot of visitors here in Icicle Inn, so—” She cut herself off when she saw his face harden into a glare.

“Interesting how?” he asked, slowly.

Shit. Wrong thing to say.

“I didn’t mean anything by it!” exclaimed Aerith, holding up her hands. “It’s just—I know everyone in town, y’know? But you guys are new! And you’re kinda…” She waved a hand in the air and trailed off. Odd? Suspicious? Setting off the Lifestream? None of those were good things to say out loud.

“Right,” said Cloud, voice low and chillier than the snow falling outside. Suddenly, Aerith regretted not finishing her thought, because whatever Cloud had assumed she’d meant, it was bad.

But, before she could say anything else, he walked off and disappeared between the clothing racks without another word. Aerith frowned at the spot. Shit.

“Struck out?” asked the owner, leaning back in her chair with a bored look on her face.

Aerith shook her head. “Something like that.”

The woman shrugged. “Don’t waste your time with outta-towners. He ain’t even that cute.”

Aerith didn’t reply. The pull of the Lifestream wasn’t gone—she had to figure out what their deal was. So, she followed it—or, rather, him. However, after a short while of making her way through the racks, she came face to face with Tifa instead.

“Oh, hey,” she said. She was holding what looked like a red woollen jumper in her arms and had a thick pair of trousers slung over her shoulder. She cocked her head to the side. “Looking for something?”

Aerith waved at her. “Heya. Yeah, for Cloud.”

Tifa furrowed her brows. “Wasn’t he just with you?”

“Ah, yeah.” She winced a bit. “He was.”

Tifa groaned. “Oh, no. What did he do?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Aerith waved her hands in front of her. “It was my fault. I think I upset him.”

Tifa hugged the sweater to her chest, pensive. “I see… Look, I’m sorry about Cloud. You probably didn’t do anything wrong, he’s just… not a people person. And he’s been on edge lately.” She sighed. “Better leave it alone.”

Aerith frowned. “No, it really was my fault. I wanna apologise.”

There was a long pause. Tifa studied her face for a moment, then looked around. “Well, alright. I can’t see him, but he’s gotta still be here somewhere. Just how big is this store?”

Aerith giggled. “Deceptively so. Alright, I’ll keep looking.”

Tifa hummed as she stepped to the side to let Aerith get past her in the narrow space. “Good luck.”

Aerith laughed and waved at her over her shoulder as she ventured deeper into the store. She moved slowly despite the urge to scramble and topple over the racks to find him. She wasn’t going to wreck the shop just to apologise for a misunderstanding. Still, Cloud had apparently managed to fully disappear into the deepest recesses of the store in under a minute, which was frustrating, if kind of impressive. Aerith tried to remember if there were any windows he could’ve jumped out of.

Eventually, though, she spotted a tell-tale head of spiky blond hair sticking out just over the heavy coats rack, and held her hand up to wave. “Cloud! Hey!” she called.

He jumped a bit, then looked around until he spotted her hand. “Uh… What?”

Aerith fought to break free of the racks one last time and was spat out into the small open space he was standing in. “I wanted to apologise,” she said quickly, before he could turn tail and run again. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sorry.”

Cloud paused and studied her for a long second. “You didn’t,” he said in the end, averting his eyes to focus on the clothes once again.

Aerith furrowed her brows. “You sure? I thought—”

“You didn’t,” he repeated. He glanced at her. “I just don’t get what you want from me.”

She held up her hands. “Nothing. I told you, I wanna help you guys.”

Cloud rolled his eyes. “And I told you we don’t need help.” He crossed his arms and frowned. “So…”

Aerith frowned right back and put her hands on her hips. “So, at least hear me out.”

He held her gaze for another long moment of silence, then tilted his head to the side as his frown eased a bit. Go on, he seemed to say, and Aerith didn’t need to be told twice. She put her chin in her hand and looked up. “You came from the south, right?” she started. “Well, you can really only go north next. It’s all snow fields for a while from here on out. Its not safe if you’re not used to it, and Gaea’s Cliff is even worse. You could use a guide.”

Cloud shrugged. “We’ve dealt with worse. Tifa and I come from a village in the mountains, we’re used to that kinda terrain.”

I thought Tifa was from Midgar. Aerith shook her head and glossed over that detail. “That’s… not all.” She bit her lip as she hesitated. It was a bad idea. Her mother had drilled it into her all her life: nobody was supposed to know what they were, especially not anyone linked to Shinra. But… there was something nudging her to say it—to share her secret. Somehow, she felt it was okay to tell Cloud. She sighed and steeled herself.

“Have you ever heard of the Cetra—the Ancients?” she asked in a low voice, shooting a glance around to make sure nobody else was nearby.

Cloud furrowed his brows and moved a little closer to her, as if he’d sensed the shift in atmosphere. “A bit,” he said. “What’s that got to do with anything?” He sounded wary again.

“Well…” Aerith took a deep breath. “I’m—”

“What’s this?” came a loud voice from somewhere behind Cloud.

Aerith jumped a bit, startled, and quickly stepped away from him. Yuffie had just come out of the racks, holding an armful of winter gear and looking at the both of them with wide eyes.

Cloud huffed. “None of your business.”

“Just a chat,” said Aerith, giggling.

“Please.” Yuffie dumped all her spoils on a chair and put her hands on her hips. “Spiky doesn’t know how to chat.”

Aerith giggled, a little uncomfortably, as Cloud glared at the young girl. “Maybe I just don’t like talking to you,” he grumbled.

Yuffie put a hand over her heart. “You wound me. Say, uh, Aeris?”

“Aerith,” she corrected, in unison with Cloud. She giggled.

“Yeah, Aerith.” Yuffie waved a hand in the air. “When’s the snowboard shop open?”

“Oh.” She thought for a second. “I think they’re closed today. But tomorrow—”

“Snowboard?” Cloud frowned again. “We don’t have time for—”

Yuffie groaned loudly. “We never have time for anything. I wanna relax some!”

He rolled his eyes. “You can relax when we catch up with Sephiroth and—”

“Sephiroth!?”

Cloud and Yuffie both turned towards Aerith, who covered her mouth. She hadn’t even noticed she’d spoken—a shrill, startled squeak almost—until after the sound had come out of her. The name had sent a chill down her spine, like a cold knife slowly dragging across her skin.

“You… know him?” asked Cloud. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were fixed on her.

She shook her head. “No, but…” She quickly rubbed her hands up and down her arms to chase away the shivers. “Sorry, never mind that.”

Yuffie furrowed her brows. “Never mind that? What the—”

“Yuffie,” interrupted Cloud, without taking his eyes off Aerith. “Go pay for your gear. I’ll catch up.”

“What!? But—”

“Yuffie.” He turned to fix her with a serious stare for just a second. “Go.”

She looked like she wanted to argue again, but then she just bit her lip and picked up her clothes. She shot one last annoyed glare at Cloud, then disappeared into the racks without another word.

That left just Aerith, who had her eyes planted on the ceiling, and Cloud, who she was sure was watching her.

After a long, heavy pause, Cloud sighed and crossed his arms. “Alright, you wanted me to hear you out. Fine. Tell me.”

“Huh?” Aerith stared at him. “What?”

“You were saying something about the Ancients, and you know Sephiroth.” He pressed his lips together. “What’s going on? Who are you?”

“I—” She cut herself off as someone shuffled their way through the racks of clothing behind her. “We shouldn’t do this here,” she said, a little sheepishly.

An annoyed flash passed over Cloud’s face. “You’re the one who—”

“I know, I know—Look, I’ll tell you, but not here.”

Cloud glanced towards the door. “The others are waiting for me.” He seemed to remember something. “And, uh… I still have to—” He motioned awkwardly for the coat racks.

Aerith blinked twice, surprised by his sudden shift in tone. “Oh, right. Makes sense.”

“Are you, uh, free tonight…?” he asked.

Aerith smiled. “Why, mister, you asking me out?” She giggled and, before Cloud had a chance to respond, added, “Yeah, I’m free. I’ll meet you at the town entrance. Is 10 okay?”

“Yeah,” said Cloud. He was blushing a little bit, but he cleared his throat and made a shooing motion. “Now…”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Aerith, holding her hands up. “I gotta go anyway. My parents are probably wondering where I am. I’ll see you tonight.”

He hummed and didn’t reply—just offered a slight wave as he turned to examine the coats again. Aerith waved as well and then dove back into the sea of clothes to make her way out.

As she walked home—after having nearly forgotten her new pair of boots—she felt a mixture of giddy anticipation and anxiety pool in her stomach. She was gonna tell Cloud about the Lifestream, and she was gonna ask him about Sephiroth, and she was gonna find out why he’d made her skin crawl just at the mention of his name.

She just had to sneak out past her mother again.

—

It wasn’t like Aerith wasn’t allowed out on her own—she was almost twenty-three after all—but leaving the house well past sundown was going to raise eyebrows and questions with her parents. Questions that couldn’t be evaded with a simple ‘out with friends’ excuse because, well, Aerith didn’t have those. So, as the time of her meeting with Cloud drew closer, she lay on her bed, weighing her options. She had three of them—two, really, because telling the truth would only make her parents freak out. She could come up with an excuse, or she could sneak out. Ask for permission, and raise suspicion, or beg for forgiveness if she got caught. If. Framed like that, Aerith instantly knew which one she preferred.

She stilled, listening to the sounds of the house. Her parents were in the living room, watching a movie on TV, its soundtrack faint but audible from her room. Aerith had already bid them good-night: they wouldn’t be checking on her again. Good. With any luck, she could sneak out and back in without them noticing.

The only problem was that she would have to climb out of her window without grabbing a coat if she wanted to slip out unseen. As much as she didn’t look forward to braving the Icicle Inn night in just a jumper, it would have to do. At least she’d brought her new boots to her room instead of leaving them in the entrance. As quietly as she could, she grabbed them, turned off her light, and padded over to the window. Luckily, it wasn’t a windy night, although there was a light snowfall going. Aerith pushed the glass just enough to crawl through, then she slipped on her boots and, with one last deep breath, she was out.

She landed on the fresh snow outside her ground-floor room with a soft crunch. Just as quietly as she’d opened it, she pulled the window pane closed, then she straightened up.

“Right,” she whispered, rubbing her arms. Her breath came up in a puffy mist in front of her.

Bad idea bad idea bad idea.

But it was too late now. She was not going to ask forgiveness for a botched plan.

Making sure to circle the house from the side opposite the living room window, Aerith started making her way through Icicle Inn. It was late, so there weren’t many people around. A couple of passers-by tossed her odd looks, no doubt because she was stupidly underdressed for the cold—not unlike Cloud’s party had been when they’d arrived, but she was a local, for crying out loud. Still, she pushed her chin up and carried on, trying not to shiver too much.

The street clock by the village entrance read a little past 10 when she got close enough to see it properly. The snowfall was a bit heavier, now, and Aerith kept regretting her choices. But she didn’t have time to think about it too hard, because there was a dark silhouette leaning against the gate. She straightened up. Cloud. The Lifestream confirmed it before he turned around.

Hearing her crunchy footsteps in the snow, he pushed himself off the gate to face her. He was bundled in a thick black coat, and he was wearing a scarf and gloves as well. Aerith was intensely jealous. Still, his face was reddened by the cold, and his scarf was pulled up almost to his nose. His eyes, chemically bright, went wide when he saw her approaching and shivering in her pathetic pink jumper.

“Are you crazy!?” he exclaimed, quickly walking up to her.

Aerith sniffled and shot him a grin. “Jury’s still out on that. Had to sneak past my parents. Couldn’t grab a coat.” She rubbed her arms again. “I’ll be f-fine,” she said.

Cloud regarded her for a moment, then huffed. His breath came out misty as well. “Here,” he said, unzipping his coat and shrugging it off.

She shook her head. “What? No, I can’t—” He wordlessly pushed it in her hands. “No, Cloud, seriously—”

He nodded. “You need it more. I’m an ex-SOLDIER. I run pretty warm.”

Aerith paused. At least, he wasn’t wearing his uniform’s sleeveless turtleneck underneath, having switched it out for what looked like a long-sleeved thermal one. No jumper, though, possibly because he had something to prove. She gripped his coat tight for a moment. “…You sure?”

He shrugged. “Dead men tell no tales. And neither do frozen girls.”

“Frozen boys don’t hear ’em.”

“SOLDIER boys do.” He cracked a quarter of a smile. “Just take it.”

She giggled weakly. “Fair point. Thank you.” With trembling hands, she slipped Cloud’s coat on. It was still warm, and she sighed in relief as she buried her hands in the pockets. “Thanks,” she repeated.

Cloud hummed. “Right,” he said. “Now, start talking.”

“Oh. Right, yeah.” Aerith straightened up as Cloud leaned back against the gate, his arms crossed. “You said you’ve heard of the Ancients, right?”

“I have,” he said. “Original stewards of the Planet n’ stuff.”

She chuckled. “N’ stuff. Well…” She took a deep breath. “As it happens, I am one,” she said, like she was ripping off a band-aid.

She didn’t know what she’d expected as a reaction, but a single raised eyebrow wasn’t it. “Huh,” he said.

Aerith frowned. “I’m not lying.”

Cloud shrugged. “Didn’t say you were.”

“Didn’t say much of anything, mister.”

“Am I s’posed to?” he shot back, holding her gaze. “Say you are telling the truth. So what? What’s it to us?”

She bit her lip. “The Cetra—the Ancients—weren’t just the original stewards of the Planet,” she said. “They… nurtured it, and cultivated the Lifestream—You know what the Lifestream is, right?”

Cloud scoffed, but it didn’t seem directed at her. “Do I ever. Big guy never shuts up about it.”

Aerith nodded. “Right. Well, the reason it might matter to you that I’m a Cetra is because the Lifestream speaks to me. Through me.” She put a hand on her chest. Her heart was beating fast, each thump a reminder of her mother’s warnings and admonitions. But Aerith was speaking as more than just herself. “When you guys came to town, I knew you were special. When you mentioned Sephiroth, I knew he was bad news.” When I spoke to you, I knew something was up. She didn’t let that last part escape her mind, though. She just looked at Cloud, holding his burning blue gaze. “I know what you’re doing is important for the Planet.”

Infuriatingly, he only raised an eyebrow again. “So?”

She pressed her lips together. “So I want to help. I need to help.”

Cloud shook his head. “Not a chance.”

She clenched her fists at her sides. “But—”

He shook his head. “We got this. No need to get you involved.” He turned around and waved slightly over his shoulder. “You can run that coat back to me tomorrow. Paid good Gil for it.”

He started to walk away as Aerith just stood there, alone in the snow, staring a hole into the back of his head.

I can’t let them go on alone. They’ll need me. The Planet needs me, she thought, familiar with the way those words weren’t hers. But how—

“He has the Black Materia, doesn’t he?” she heard herself say. “Sephiroth. He’s gonna use it soon, right?”

Cloud stopped dead in his tracks. He turned around as though unsteady on his feet and met her gaze. The Mako glow illuminated his shocked expression. “What?”

Aerith nodded slowly, suppressing a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. She hated being treated like a loudspeaker for the Planet like that. Still, if making herself into a conduit for its words was what got him to listen… “Like I said. I can help,” she said firmly, not breaking eye contact.

A beat of silence passed, then Cloud closed the distance he’d put between them with a few long strides. “How do we stop him?” he asked, voice quiet but urgent. “How do we get the Materia back?” There was a desperate note in his voice, as if his bravado and calm demeanour had shattered the second she’d spoken the words Black Materia.

Aerith took a half step back, suddenly less confident. “I… don’t know. I don’t know yet!” she added quickly when his expression darkened. “But I know I can help.”

“Right.” Cloud closed his eyes for a moment. “Right. What’s it do, then? What’s Sephiroth gonna use it for?” he asked. “We—He got it from us at a temple the Ancients built. Down south—way down south.” Aerith nodded. Her mother had mentioned a place like that a few times. “The Materia was there. That means your ancestors had it, right? So they must know what it does. Sephiroth didn’t say—least, I don’t think he did…” He averted his gaze for a moment.

Aerith furrowed her brows. “You don’t think he did?”

He pressed his lips together. “Long story.”

She frowned. “Cloud… who is he?”

He didn’t reply for a long time. Then he sighed. “He was a SOLDIER. My hero. But he…” He shook his head. “He went insane, five years ago. I thought he died, but he’s back now. He’s dangerous.” Cloud seemed to remember something. “He told me he’s an Ancient.”

Aerith blinked. “What?”

“Yeah. Five years ago.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “I suppose… that’s possible. I thought my mother and I were the last ones, but maybe there are more still around.” But the words tasted bitter on her tongue. There was more to it. She shook her head. “And he has the Black Materia.”

Cloud nodded. “ He said he wants to use it to ‘inflict a wound on the Planet.’ So he can harness the Lifestream when it comes up to fix it. Ring any bells?”

There it was again, that strange feeling in the Lifestream, the one relating specifically to him. What was he hiding? Did he even know? She hummed and put her chin in her hand. “A wound, huh?” She cast her mind to the stories her mother had told her all her life: about the disaster that had wiped out the Cetra, about the scars that lay even further up north, buried in soothing snow. The calamity from the sky. A chill ran down her spine. She met Cloud’s gaze again: he was searching her face, anxiety and impatience clear in his expression. “I think…” she started, “I think—Wait, no, that’s not it. Hold on a sec.” She closed her eyes.

The world around her went sharp with practised ease. The quiet rustle of the wind. The light touch of snow flakes settling on her hair. The crunch of crisp snow as Cloud shifted on his feet. The slight warmth from his breath, barely reaching her. In that state, it was easier for the Lifestream to touch her, to pass through her, to leave a mark behind. In her mind, she reached out to the glimmering river of souls with a question, only to be pulled back to her body with a gasp. “Meteor!” she exclaimed.

Cloud furrowed his brows. “What?”

Aerith nodded frantically, pulling his coat tighter around her shoulders. “That’s what the Black Materia’s for. Meteor. The ultimate Black Magic spell, bound to—” She swallowed thickly. “—to destroy the Planet.”

He took a half step back, the colour draining from his face. “What!?”

She grabbed Cloud’s upper arm. “We have to stop it! We have to!”

“Wait, wait, hold on.” He had taken her hand as though he’d wanted to pry it away from him but, in his shock, he ended up just holding it against his shoulder. “Destroy the Planet? Wha—how?”

Aerith swallowed hard. “Meteor,” she repeated. “What greater wound to the Planet than complete destruction? He—If Sephiroth wants to force the Lifestream up to fix what he breaks, I can’t think of anything that would draw more of it out.”

Cloud nodded, staring blankly at her. “But… What then?”

She could only shrug helplessly. “Everyone dies. Sephiroth becomes… I dunno.” She lowered her gaze.

“A god?” he supplied darkly.

“Something like that.” She blinked hard. “Cloud, we can’t—”

He shook his head. “We won’t.” His voice was tight, strained. He shook his head, then his gaze fell down to their hands and he hurried to let go. “We won’t,” he repeated, taking a couple of steps away from her.

Aerith nodded frantically. “I’ll—”

“Go back home,” he said, shaking his head. “We got this.”

“I—What!?” Aerith blinked at him. “You can’t be serious.”

He crossed his arms. “Dead serious. You got nothing to do with this mess.”

“Don’t I?” She frowned deeply. “When I say everyone dies if Sephiroth summons Meteor, that includes me, this village, and everybody I love.” She mirrored his stubborn pose. “And, as a Cetra, I’ve got more to do with this than most. I want to help.”

Cloud shook his head. “You say that, but you have no idea what kind of danger you’d be in.”

“I can handle myself.”

“Don’t care. Go back home, now.” He paused for a second. “Thanks for the info,” he added, “I’ll take it from here.”

Aerith glared at him, balling her hands into tight fists. “This is a mistake.”

“I can handle myself,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Run that coat back to me first thing in the morning. We won’t be sticking around long.” He made to leave, but stopped in his tracks when Aerith let out a half chuckle. “What?”

She linked her hands behind her and rocked on the balls of her feet. “‘Fraid you’re gonna have to.”

Cloud furrowed his brows. “Says you?”

Aerith nodded towards the sky to the east. “Says the storm rolling in. You get caught in it while halfway up the mountain, you die,” she said cheerily.

He followed her gaze, frowning when he noticed the dark clouds blocking off a chunk of starry sky on the horizon. “Shit,” he muttered.

Aerith hummed. “I wouldn’t be in such a hurry to leave town if I were you. Lucky I was here to warn you, right?” She shot him a smug grin.

Cloud rolled his eyes. “We’d have noticed the storm before we left.”

“Right,” she huffed. “In any case, I’ve got a few days at least to talk you into letting me come along.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re wasting your time. And mine.”

She waved a hand in the air. “We’ll see about that. I think I’ll take your advice and go home, now.” She stuffed her hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Thanks again for the coat. I’ll bring it back to you tomorrow. And I’ll take my time—since there’s no rush.” She grinned again.

Cloud glared, but it didn’t have much of a bite. He sighed. “Or I could take it back now.”

“And let me freeze to death?” She tutted. “Cruel.”

He rolled his eyes. “You got here alive, didn’t you?” A thought seemed to cross his mind. “C’mon.”

Aerith cocked her head to the side. “Hm?”

“I’ll walk you home. So I can have my coat back.”

“Oh.” Aerith straightened up. “You sure?”

He shrugged. “C’mon,” he repeated, half turning around, “before I change my mind.”

Aerith nodded and hurried to fall into step at his side. “Thanks,” she said with a smile. She glanced up. “At least it’s stopped snowing. Hey, you can help me sneak back into my room! You’ll come in handy, after all.”

Something resembling a snort escaped Cloud. “Right. And I’ll get paid with my own coat.”

Aerith winked. “Handsome reward, right?”

“Priceless.”

—

The Lifestream was still loud in Aerith’s mind when she woke up the next day. Groaning, she shielded her eyes from the morning light as her senses dulled back to normal. I know, I know, she thought, pushing herself up to a sitting position, cross-legged in a nest of thick blankets. She pulled the covers tight around her as she shivered slightly. A look out the window revealed the footprints she and Cloud had left the night before.

Looking at them, Aerith frowned. It hadn’t gone well.

Sure, she’d convinced Cloud that she was a Cetra—so what? He’d stood firm on his refusal to let her help. And she had to help. The voices of the Planet left her no doubt: if she didn’t, the world would be doomed.

She sighed: so, then, how was she going to get him to listen?

Her eyes roamed around her room absent-mindedly until they landed on her new boots. She pursed her lips, then threw off the covers and stood up from her bed.

Cloud wasn’t her only option.

About an hour later, Aerith headed back towards the inn. Tifa and Yuffie are the only ones I’ve met other than Cloud. Might as well look for them first.

But, once she reached the main plaza, she realised that someone was posted at the entrance of the inn already. Cloud leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, while the red lion-thing was sitting nearby on the wooden floor of the porch. She grimaced. Great.

Before she could decide whether to go forward or come back in the afternoon, they both looked up like they’d heard her muffled footsteps in the snow, even though she should’ve been too far away for that. Enhanced hearing, huh.

Cloud pushed himself off the wall and nodded towards her. “Told ya,” he said to the lion, halfway between annoyed and amused. Mostly annoyed though.

The beast nodded slowly. It also had its eyes trained on her, but it didn’t look like it was going to attack her. Aerith slowed down warily anyway. There was something about it…

“Wow,” she said, raising her hands and tossing Cloud a half smile. “Am I really that predictable?”

Cloud shrugged. “I know stubborn when I see it. Coulda called this five minutes after meeting you.”

She giggled. “Flattered.” She trailed to a stop a short distance away from the porch. The lion was still watching her. “Have you thought about my proposal?”

“Nope.”

“Nope, you haven’t thought about it?”

“Nope is the answer.” He crossed his arms again and scowled. “So get it through your head.”

Aerith frowned right back. “But—”

“Look,” interrupted Cloud. “Thanks for the intel from last night. Really. But we’ll take it from here.” The creature’s ear flicked slightly, but it didn’t move.

Aerith bit her lip. “Look,” she said, mimicking his arms-crossed pose and raising her tone a bit. “You’ve gotta get it through your head that you need me. The world needs me.” She put a hand on her chest. “I can’t just sit back and watch. I’m a Cetra. I can help.” Her voice involuntarily dropped again at the end. She grimaced inwardly. Damnit.

Cloud groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You—”

“I would like a word with you, if you would be so kind,” said a deep male voice, interrupting Cloud.

Aerith blinked twice, then looked down at the red creature. “Oh,” she said. Oh, of course. “Sorry, I never introduced myself. I’m Aerith.”

The lion nodded. Beside him, Cloud was eyeing the both of them curiously, as though confused by Aerith’s lack of confusion. She shot him a knowing glance: See? Cetra.

He rolled his eyes. “You sure, Na—Red?”

The creature—Red—nodded. “Yes. I am intrigued by this. And we haven’t much to do, since we can’t leave the village for the time being.”

Aerith nodded sympathetically. “The storm.”

Cloud huffed. “Right. Whatever. Knock yourselves out. But the answer’s still no.” With that, he turned around and walked right back inside the inn.

Aerith watched him leave with an annoyed sigh, then she turned back to Red. “He always like this?”

The creature made a low noise, like a chuckle. “Pretty much.”

Aerith giggled. “Yeesh. Must be rough.”

Red nodded. “It can be. But no matter. I meant to talk to you.”

“Okay,” she said. “But not here. If my mom catches me—”

Wordlessly, Red straightened up and led her into the inn. Off to the side, Aerith spotted a small lounging area where Cloud was sitting next to the big guy with a gun for an arm. She waved with a half-smile and Cloud glared at her. She noticed that he was sitting by a window that looked out on the porch. It was closed, but Aerith was willing to bet that he’d been hoping to eavesdrop. The other man followed her and Red with a curious expression that had a lot in common with a scowl. Aerith quickly looked away. They were all so tense. Even Tifa and Yuffie had looked like they were walking on eggshells and secrets, especially once Cloud had shown up at the store.

She shook her head and hurried after Red. He led her to a small veranda at the back of the building, hidden from prying eyes. It was pretty cold in there, so it was deserted.

Aerith sat down on a wicker chair while Red circled it and settled in front of her. “So,” she started, lacing her hands under her knees. “What did you want to know?”

Red studied her for a moment. “You are a Cetra. Cloud told us you spoke about Sephiroth, and our mission.”

She nodded. “We did.”

“What was it you said to him? He was… perturbed, to say the least.”

“You mean he didn’t tell you?” She furrowed her brows. “Really?”

Red shook his head. “He told us part of it. I am sure there is more.”

“Okay…” Aerith bit her lip. “So, um, what do you know?”

“Cloud told us of Sephiroth’s plan.” Aerith felt a chill run down her spine. “About how he means to gravely wound the Planet in order to summon the Lifestream and absorb it.”

“Right,” she said, looking down. “Well, it’s not like I know much more than that.”

Red’s expression resembled a frown. “Would you mind repeating exactly what you told him?”

A strong gust of wind shook the windows of the veranda. “Okay,” she whispered, wringing her hands in her lap. Red settled in front of her, waiting patiently for her to speak. “Okay.”

She told him. About Meteor, about Sephiroth’s real plans with the Lifestream—everything.

At the end of it, if Red could have paled under his thick fur, Aerith was sure he would have. She stared at her feet. “Yeah.” When he didn’t reply for a long moment, she looked up. “What… What did you think was going on?”

Red shook his head. “I… We had no idea he—No way,” he said, a strange affect to his voice. He cleared his throat. “I mean… Cloud was very vague, last night. He made it sound like… I don’t know. Like less of a global catastrophe, I suppose. He neglected to really drive home the gravity of the situation.”

Aerith furrowed her brows. “Really? Why?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. But—” The door to the veranda slammed open, cutting him off.

“Red,” said the big man with a gun for an arm, pausing in the doorway. “You still here?” His eyes paused on Aerith, full of suspicion, but she held his gaze resolutely.

“We are. And I’m afraid I have bad news,” said Red.

The man grunted, “Of course you do.” He put his hand on his hip. “Let’s hear it.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but Red was faster: “Sephiroth. He aims to use the Black Materia to summon a meteor that’ll destroy the Planet. It’s worse than we thought.”

Aerith winced. She still struggled to conceive of it: a disaster on such a colossal scale that it would wipe out the entire Planet, everything that lived on it, everything that had ever been or would ever be; she couldn’t wrap her head around it. And yet, Red had just thrown it out in the open, plain and simple and razor-sharp.

The man staggered backwards like he’d been struck, but he recovered almost immediately. “Well, shit,” he muttered eloquently.

In spite of herself and the situation, Aerith felt a small, rueful smile tug at the corner of her mouth. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I know.”

He looked at her again. “You do, huh?” His tone was loaded, hostile. Aerith suppressed her wince.

“Barret,” said Red in a warning tone. It took Aerith a second to realise it was the man’s name.

He shook his head, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “That asshole…”

Red did a strange quadrupedal shrug and sighed. “We know now. That’s what matters.”

“Like hell it is.” Barret made a frustrated gesture with his gun arm and Aerith flinched. He didn’t seem to notice. “All this time, and he still doesn’t trust us? Goddamn protagonist.” He ran his hand down his face. “He’s the one with the vendetta and we ain’t nothin’ but extras.”

Aerith grimaced. “I’m sure Cloud doesn’t think that.”

“No, he does,” said Red placidly. “Well, maybe not in those terms. But I’m not sure he grasps that we’re in this as well.”

She nodded slowly. Something told her that that wasn’t quite the case, but she didn’t push it. Barret seemed angry enough—and it wasn’t just that Cloud hadn’t told his team about the real scope of Sephiroth’s plan. No, Barret’s anger was ancient, deep-rooted, slow and thick but always ready to burst. Aerith didn’t want to find out what that looked like.

Instead, she cleared her throat. “Right,” she said. “But now that we know, we can do something about it!”

Barret raised an eyebrow. “That so?” he asked slowly.

Aerith hummed as she leaned forward with her hands on her knees. “Yeah! I don’t know how just yet—But the Planet will tell me!” Barret and Red shared a glance. She frowned. “I’m sure of it,” she added.

“Right,” said Barret. “And when it does, you let us know, yeah?”

“Right,” she said in the same tone. “So we can deal with it together.”

He laughed—a rough, forced sort of thing. “Don’t count on it. No need to drag you into this.”

“But—”

“Cloud said no as well,” said Red. “It’s too dangerous.”

Barret scoffed. “Cloud ain’t the boss of us. But, much as it pains me to say, he’s right.” He shook his head. “Sorry, kid. Trust me, you don’t wanna get mixed up with the likes of us.”

Aerith glared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She let the irritation at being called a kid slide.

The man was unimpressed. “C’mon, you gotta know. Or guess, at least.”

She was silent. He sighed.

“Shinra.”

It was a bucket of freezing water down her spine. Aerith gripped the edge of her bench and clenched her teeth. “What about ’em?” she bit out.

Red shook his head. “You don’t want them to come after you.”

She glared at him too. “I can take care of myself. Besides, if Meteor—”

“We’ll take care of Meteor,” said Barret. He straightened up and rubbed at the spot where his flesh arm met the metal with a grimace. “Thanks for the intel. Really. But you stay out of this.” He offered a half-hearted wave and, without adding anything else, vanished back inside the inn.

Aerith stared after him, a deep frown on her face. “I can take care of myself,” she muttered.

“Many people can. They still get hurt.” Red moved from his spot and towards the door.

As he passed by her, Aerith scoffed, “That goes for all of you too.”

He chuckled, then paused to look at her. “Cloud was right,” he said after a moment.

She huffed. “He was not. I can—”

“Not that.” Red shook his head. “You’re stubborn.” The sentence hung oddly in the air, like there was something else he wanted to say. But he never filled that silence; instead, he nudged open the door of the veranda and slipped back inside.

Aerith fixed her eyes to the ground and balled her fists in the thick fabric of her skirt. Damnit.

Outside the window of the veranda, everything was white: the peaks of Gaea’s Cliff, the overcast sky, the village coated in snow. When she closed her eyes, the white still burned through.

What should I do?

The Planet was quiet in her mind. Only that nagging feeling that she had to help this party of strangers, but no hints as to how.

Figures.

Aerith hoisted herself up with a sigh. It was getting close to lunchtime; she’d try again in the afternoon. Maybe she would run into Tifa then. Tugging her coat tighter around her shoulders, she went back inside the inn and made a beeline for the door. Cloud was still sitting by it, idly flicking through a tourist pamphlet. But he must not have been very focused, because he lifted his gaze as soon as Aerith entered the room.

He shot her a look halfway between deadpan and smug. “Guessing that was a bust.”

Aerith scoffed. “Whatever. I’ll win you over eventually,” she said, more confident than she was feeling.

Cloud raised an eyebrow and pointed to the invisible watch on his wrist. “Time’s a-tickin’, then. You got, what? A couple days? Tops.”

“Just wait and see.” She scowled at him and made to storm out the door, but paused with her fingers a hair away from the handle.

Cloud cocked his head to the side. “What?”

She didn’t look at him. “Why didn’t you tell them the truth?”

A long moment of quiet. “I did.”

“Don’t play dumb.” Aerith looked at him, but it was his turn to avert his gaze. Guilt, maybe? “You didn’t tell them the whole truth.”

“What difference does it make?” He shrugged. “Even if Sephiroth wasn’t out to destroy the world, we’d still need to stop him. He’s a mass murderer.”

“Yeah, but…” Aerith bit her lip. “I don’t get it. Why not tell them? If it makes no difference.”

Cloud shot her a flat look. “Yeah, okay, the difference is that they aren’t freaking out as much about it. Or weren’t. Thanks a bunch, by the way.” He grimaced. “Really needed a lecture from the big guy today.”

She scoffed. “They deserved to know.”

“But they didn’t need to.”

Aerith didn’t say anything for a long moment. She studied him, and Cloud held her gaze right back. Yes, that was guilt in his eyes, but it was mixed with defiant stubbornness. And his voice was laced with something that sounded a whole lot like concern. She sighed. “Call me crazy—”

“Don’t need permission for that.”

In spite of herself, she chuckled, and even Cloud cracked a smile. She was supposed to be mad at him. At all of them. He wasn’t supposed to make her laugh. “Call me crazy,” she repeated, “but I think that your friends wouldn’t mind sharing that burden with you. It’d be easier to carry, at any rate.”

Cloud’s half smile fell, replaced by a defensive sort of surprise. “What?”

Aerith fiddled with her hands behind her back. “Just sayin’. And, hey, you could share it with one more person if you let me—”

“Yeah, no.” Cloud waved a hand dismissively in the air. “Go home, Aerith.” He seemed a little distracted, to the point that his voice had softened ever-so-slightly over her name.

She scoffed again. “Fine. But just ’cause I’m hungry. I’ll be back.”

He picked up his pamphlet again. “Shocker. Won’t help, though.”

Aerith made sure to slam the door behind her as she left.

—

By the time Aerith got home, her father had already set the table for two—her mother was probably stuck at the schoolhouse for a meeting or something. He looked up from his pots and pans when he heard the door open and tossed her a look over his shoulder. “Hey, honey.”

“Heya,” muttered Aerith, shrugging off her coat and hanging it up.

“Yeesh,” said Gast. “That bad, huh?”

Aerith groaned. “They’re so stubborn,” she complained as she slid into her chair. “’Specially that guy. Unbelievable.”

A flash passed over his eyes, but then he chuckled a little, setting a warm bowl of soup in front of her. “Pot. Kettle.”

“Hm?” She frowned at him for a second, then huffed. “Yeah, guess so. Well, fine. I’m up to the challenge.”

Gast cleared his throat. “And, um, what exactly is your goal here?”

Aerith blinked twice, then smiled innocently at her father. “Oh, y’know.”

“I don’t, actually. That’s why I asked.”

She bit her lip. Just two days before, she’d told him she just wanted to figure out who the strangers were and what they were doing in Icicle Inn. Well, she had her answers now: they were a group of regular people—plus a SOLDIER—who were trying to save the world and were after that Sephiroth guy. Who was going to destroy the Planet. And she needed to help. But she didn’t particularly feel like sharing that with her father. She felt a twinge of guilt shoot through her and suppressed a wince. She’d chewed Cloud out about keeping secrets not even an hour before, and now she knew exactly where he was coming from. But at least her father wasn’t involved.

So, she waved a hand in the air in a vague gesture. “Just… I told you, I get this… feeling about them from the Planet. Still haven’t figured that out.”

Gast raised an eyebrow. “Right.”

Aerith kept a straight face. “Besides, there’s something about that SOLDIER.” She furrowed her brows as her eyes fell to her hand, fiddling with the cutlery by her plate. “He’s…” She didn’t know how to put it.

“Special?” offered her father, with a note of amusement in his voice.

Aerith shrugged. “Maybe.”

There was a pause. Then, Gast furrowed his brows. “Don’t tell me you… like this SOLDIER guy.”

She stared at him. “What?”

He chuckled. “Are you even hearing yourself right now? You just told me you think he’s special.”

Aerith giggled, then she put her chin in her hand. “That is not what I meant. Hmm. I wouldn’t say I like him. I think I’d like to take his brain out of his head to study it.” He was pretty easy on the eyes, though. And funny, in his own way. Cloud was odd. Tense, cold, harsh. His teammates seemed to agree with that assessment. But she’d also seen him be awkward, thoughtful, gentle.

He was a gathering storm with eyes the colour of clear skies.

She shook her head. “Anyway,” she said, brandishing a spoon. “I’m starving. Let’s eat? I wanna go back to the inn in a bit.”

Gast nodded after another pause. “Let’s. But I need your help with some errands this afternoon. Your crush’ll have to wait.”

Aerith threw a napkin at him.

—

There was no way Aerith’s father needed her help with picking up some books from the library. Or with paying for something at the post office. Or with returning a sweater with a frayed hem to the store.

As Gast idly made small talk with the shop owner, Aerith was glaring daggers at him. This was a set-up. For all that he’d said he’d tell her mother to trust her, she was sure they were scheming to keep her busy so she wouldn’t reach out to Cloud and the others.

“Dad,” she tried for the third time, warily. “I really—”

“Just a minute, honey,” he said, waving a hand at her without turning around. “I’m in the middle of something.”

Aerith groaned and buried her face in her hands. Fine.

Slowly, she backed away towards the door. Step, step, step—keeping her eyes on her father in case he caught her before she could sprint out. But he seemed absorbed in his conversation. Aerith reached behind her, blindly feeling for the doorknob. When her fingers closed around it, she yanked the door open and made to quickly back away.

Unfortunately, she backed straight into someone.

Aerith yelped and jumped away, startling herself, the newcomers, and Gast and the shop owner, who whipped around towards her.

“Sorry!” she exclaimed, clasping her hands together. “I didn’t—” She cut herself off when she realised just who it was. In front of her stood a tall man with dark hair, clad in a long red cape and wearing a scowl on his face. Behind him, a blond man in a thick blue jacket and a small black-n-white cat sitting on his shoulder like a human. “You’re…” The last members of Cloud’s party.

“Excuse me,” said the man in red. He shuffled past her with an annoyed expression, and Aerith quickly scurried away.

The other man gave a hearty guffaw. “Ah, don’t be like that, Vince. No harm, no foul.”

Aerith shot him a sheepish smile, to which he nodded before stepping inside the store as well, with the cat bouncing on his shoulder. She watched them go for a second, then glanced at her father again: he was eyeing the man in red, ‘Vince,’ like he was trying to figure something out. Maybe if she managed to get the other guy alone…

But fate had other plans.

“Professor Gast?” asked Vince, stopping in his tracks a short distance away from her father. “Is that you?”

Gast blanched. He took two steps back: one out of surprise, one out of dread. “I—Vincent? Valentine?”

Suddenly, Aerith wasn’t interested in sneaking away anymore. She rushed over to him. “You know each other!?”

But her father was paying her no mind. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. “You—I thought you were—”

Vincent shook his head. “Close enough. What are you doing here, Professor?”

Gast’s eyes flitted to Aerith. He took a half step so he was standing between her and Vincent. The man followed the movement with his eyes, then backed up a little. “I’m not with Shinra anymore. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Her father didn’t relax. Aerith swallowed a knot in her throat.

Vincent’s companions—the other man and the cat—looked just as confused.

“Friend o’ yours?” asked the man, gesturing for Gast.

“I used to be a bodyguard for a group of Shinra researchers. Professor Gast was one of them,” said Vincent, gesturing at him. “It’s been a long time.”

Aerith’s father nodded stiffly. “Thirty years.”

Aerith blinked. “Thirty what?” There was no way that man was much older than late-twenties, let alone at least fifty.

A shadow passed over Vincent’s face. “It’s a long story. You never answered me, Professor. What are you doing here?”

“Living,” replied Gast mechanically. “Just—I live here. That’s all.”

Vincent was quiet just long enough for it to be uncomfortable. “Professor, I must ask you something. Do you know what happened to Dr Crescent?”

That seemed to shake Gast out of the shocked reverie he’d been stuck in. “Lucrecia? I… No. I lost contact with everyone when I left the company. That was almost thirty years ago too.”

“I see.” Vincent lowered his gaze. “Thank you, Professor. We’ll—”

“No, let me ask you something,” said Gast forcefully, grabbing the man by the elbow and dragging him away from the counter, out of the owner’s earshot. Aerith had never seen him look so freaked out, but she followed. “What happened to you? What are you doing here? Why now?”

Vincent shook him off. “We’re looking for someone. Does ‘Sephiroth’ sound familiar?” It wasn’t a real question.

“Sephiroth!?” exclaimed Gast. “Wait, how—He died five years ago!”

“And I died thirty years ago,” said Vincent almost casually.

But Aerith wasn’t paying attention to him. “You know Sephiroth?” she asked her father, taking his arm.

He stared at her. “You know him!?”

She recoiled. “No, I just—” She swallowed a knot in her throat. “—I just know he’s bad news. Dad, what’s—”

“Wait, you’re that girl!” exclaimed the man in the jacket. “The one Blondie’s been talkin’ about since we got here.”

“Aerith, wasnae it?” piped up the cat.

She nodded quickly, but kept her eyes fixed on her father. “Dad, what’s going on? How do you know Sephiroth?”

Gast looked like he’d been forced to drink something disgusting. “Sephiroth is… The result of my research. Our research,” he added, with a gesture towards Vincent.

Aerith stared. “What?”

He tossed a glance behind his shoulder, checking if the shop owner was listening in. “It was called the Jenova Project, after a life form found in the Northern Crater that we thought was an Ancient.” Aerith felt a shiver run down her spine at the name, just like with Sephiroth’s. “I was its lead researcher. We were trying to…” Gast grimaced. “Engineer a human with the powers of the Ancients—but we were wrong!” He exclaimed when he saw her face. He grabbed her shoulders. “The creature we excavated—Jenova—wasn’t a Cetra. It was…”

“The calamity from the sky,” she whispered.

Her father didn’t question how she knew that. He just nodded. “Sephiroth was the result of the most successful experiment to come out of the Project, devised by Professor Hojo’s branch. We injected a fetus with Jenova’s genetic material and got ourselves a super-soldier.” He looked at Vincent. “We only figured out it wasn’t an Ancient after he was born.”

Aerith nodded slowly. So Sephiroth wasn’t a Cetra. That made more sense.

Gast continued, “That’s when I left.” And took your mother with me was the part he wouldn’t say out loud. “But he’s supposed to have died in a fire five years ago,” he finished, straightening up.

The blond man crossed his arms. “Guess he had other plans.”

Gast swallowed thickly. “Why are you after him?”

Aerith froze. No, no, no. She stepped behind her father and frantically gestured for Vincent and his companions not to say too much. Vincent caught her eye and a flash of understanding passed over his face. “He’s dangerous. And we have unfinished business with him.”

“I see,” said Gast after a pause.

Aerith sighed in shallow relief. She was such a hypocrite. She looked at her father again. His eyes were downcast in the uncomfortable silence that was stretching out. It finally hit her all at once.

Sephiroth was… trying to destroy the world. Trying to become a god. A genetic experiment.

Her father’s creation. He’d thought he was making a Cetra, but he hadn’t, except he had because he and her mother had had Aerith and—

She gulped down a knot in her throat. She felt sick to her stomach.

Gast seemed to feel her stiffen at his side. “Aerith—”

“I’m—I’m gonna go, now,” she stammered, backing into a low shelf. “Yep. Yeah. Goin’. Now.”

He was pale. “Wait, Aerith, I—”

But she was already out of the door.

—

Aerith hadn’t faked being asleep to avoid her parents since she was a little kid.

But, as the door to her room quietly swung open, that was exactly what she did. She recognised her father’s footsteps: heavier than her mothers, slightly uneven because he’d never quite recovered from a knee injury he’d gotten while chopping wood when she was younger. She recognised him, and yet not at all.

He’d tried to make a Cetra. He’d made Sephiroth. He’d made Aerith.

She wondered if her mother knew. She hadn’t talked to her—just stormed into her room and slammed the door shut. Ifalna had tried to knock and call her a couple of times, but she hadn’t answered. Once Gast had returned home, around dinner time, Aerith had heard her parents’ muffled voices from the living room but hadn’t bothered to show her face. And she’d deterred their attempts to call her for dinner with a single, snippy, “I’m not hungry.”

That wasn’t a lie. She felt like throwing up.

He’d made Aerith. He’d made Sephiroth.

Maybe her mother didn’t know, maybe he’d kept it hidden from her so she wouldn’t think—or realise—she was part of yet another science experiment.

Maybe her mother did know. Maybe she was okay with it. Maybe he’d changed.

Aerith didn’t know. She didn’t know anything anymore.

She tucked herself deeper under her covers as her father slowly approached.

“Aerith?” he called softly. “You awake?”

She steadied her breathing. In, out. In, out.

Gast sighed. “I know you are.” A pause. “Alright, you don’t want to talk. But I need to. I know what you heard today sounds… awful.”

Aerith bit her lip. That was an understatement.

“I’m not proud of the man I was when I worked for Shinra. Frankly, I don’t even know if I’m proud of the man I am now. But… I am different. I left that company. I took your mother with me.”

She fought not to react. What did you take her for? For a second shot at creating an Ancient?

“You’re my daughter,” he continued as though he’d heard her thoughts. “I love you. You’re not… You’re not part of that. You’re here because you were wanted. That’s all.” He sounded weary, sad.

Aerith swallowed a knot in her throat. She wanted to believe him so badly.

She listened for any sign he was lying. Her senses sharpened and let the world pour in. The cold nipping at the windows. The soft fabric of her blankets. Her father’s even breathing. The Lifestream: quiet, gentle, honest.

Gast sighed. “Alright. I’ll be here when you want to talk. Okay?”

Aerith heard his footsteps as he made his way back to the door. Just before he closed it, she whispered her peace offering: “Okay.”

The door paused, then clicked shut.

—

The next morning was weird.

Aerith waited to get out of her room until she’d heard both her parents leave; Ifalna and Gast waited to get out of the house until it was too late to justify. Then they were off: Ifalna to the school, Gast to the shops. The front door opened and closed twice, then Aerith counted to ten and took a deep breath as she sat up on her bed.

She couldn’t face them. Not yet.

Her father had told her the truth, the night before, but did that matter? Did his new life erase his old one? The fact that he’d created the man who wanted to destroy the world? The fact that he’d treated Jenova like an object when he’d thought it was an Ancient? The fact that he may have treated Ifalna the same way if they had met a little earlier?

Aerith buried her face in her hands, lying back in her bed, and groaned. There wasn’t an answer. Certainly none she could find in the Lifestream—it was all up to her. She had to decide how she felt about her father and his life’s work.

But that wasn’t something she wanted to deal with just yet.

So, she got dressed quickly, barely even brushing her hair, and stormed out of the house. It was snowing heavily—the storm was just brushing past the village on its way to the glacier—but she bundled herself tighter in her coat and trudged her way through the stuff.

The inn was always busier on weekends as people came in to enjoy a full breakfast late into the morning and chat with their neighbours, blizzards be damned, but Aerith had completely forgotten about it. When she pushed the door open, she found herself in the midst of a small crowd and utterly unprepared for it.

The last thing she wanted was a lot of people around.

She staggered backwards for a moment, then shook her head and marched towards the concierge: she’d ask for Tifa, pull her aside, and try her luck with her. But, before she could reach the counter, she spotted a now-familiar sight coming down the stairs.

Cloud shot her a look that was halfway between annoyed and amused. Weaving awkwardly through the crowd, he came to a stop in front of her. “You really don’t give up, huh? Couldn’t even take the weekend off?”

Aerith opened her mouth to reply—No rest for the wicked y’know, You could just give up first, I’m actually here for breakfast but now that you mention it—then she closed it, swallowing her bravado like ash.

Her father, the cold, the crowd.

Suddenly, everything was too much and Aerith was left just staring at him, trembling and speechless. The worst part was that she didn’t even know what to blame.

Cloud’s mood shifted in a moment. He stiffened and frowned deeply as he took in the sight of her, frazzled and upset. “Hey, what—” He cut himself off when someone brushed past him. He looked around at the crowded lobby, then shook his head and reached out to take Aerith’s wrist. “C’mon.”

Aerith let him pull her after him, up the stairs and down the corridor. His grip was urgent, but not rough. They reached what Aerith recognised as one of only two single rooms in the entire inn, and she vaguely wondered why they had bothered paying extra for it as Cloud ushered her inside.

She only stumbled once on the way to the neatly-made bed where he motioned for her to sit down. The noises from the lobby were muffled now, as though she were hearing them through a layer of cotton. Aerith closed her eyes and took a deep, shaky breath as the world slowed down.

The mattress dipped next to her. “You okay?”

She looked at him: the concern was painted clearly on Cloud’s face, mixed with a healthy dose of confusion. But there was no annoyance, no judgement. Aerith nodded slowly. “Better now. Thanks.”

Cloud hummed, letting some of the tension leave his shoulders. He didn’t say anything, but the question was clear in his eyes.

Aerith’s dropped down to her lap. “I, uh, did come here to talk. But I guess I just got…” She waved her hand in the air in a vague gesture.

“Overwhelmed?” offered Cloud.

She shrugged. “Something like that. Sorry.”

He shook his head. “Happens.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You, uh, wanna talk…?”

“Yes, but not about this.” She giggled at his confused expression. Then her smile dropped again. “I ran into Vincent, yesterday.”

Cloud nodded. “I know. Cid mentioned.” He averted his eyes for a moment, the shadow of embarrassment colouring his face, then blinked twice and turned back to her.

“Cid,” said Aerith, shuffling out of her coat and taking off her gloves and scarf. “That the guy or the cat? They didn’t introduce themselves.”

Cloud’s mouth twitched. “The guy. The cat’s name is Cait Sith.”

“Right.” She bit her lip. “What did they tell you?”

“Nothing. Cid said I’d better hear it from you when you inevitably showed up.” He cracked half a sardonic smile. “So, let’s hear it.”

She took a deep breath. “Well, turns out Vincent knew my father from back when he was a Shinra researcher,” she said, her voice small and hesitant. “When he worked on something called the Jenova Project.”

His eyes flashed with recognition, but he said nothing.

Aerith pressed her lips together. “You know what that is, don’t you?”

Cloud nodded slowly. “Bits and pieces. We’ve got that to thank for Sephiroth.”

She swallowed the knot in her throat. “We’ve got my father to thank for Sephiroth. He was the leader.”

Cloud stilled. “…What?”

“Yeah.” Aerith looked away again. “He said… They were trying to create a human with the powers of the Cetra. But what they were using—Jenova—wasn’t a Cetra at all.”

“Sephiroth isn’t an Ancient?”

She shook her head. “No. He was born—created from the cells of a life form that attacked the Cetra.” Her hands curled into the fabric of the thick comforter on top of the bed. “My father created him.” He created me too. What does that make me? She looked up at Cloud again. He had gone slightly pale and his eyes were wide, unfocused. She pressed on anyway, “I just—My father created him. It’s his fault. I can’t just sit and watch while—” She squeezed her eyes tight and exclaimed, “I have to do something about it. As a Cetra, as his daughter, as a person. You understand?”

Cloud was still staring at her. “I—” Whatever he was going to say got lost as he hissed in pain and grabbed his head.

“Cloud?” Aerith blinked at him. “Hey, Cloud, what—”

He groaned, shooting to his feet and tangling his hands in his hair, pulling so hard that Aerith thought he might rip some out. She could only stare as he took a couple stumbling steps towards the opposite side of the room, where his sword was propped up against the wall. “…Cloud?” she tried again.

Another step, another groan. As though he was no longer in control of his own body, he clumsily pawed at the handle of the sword, knocking it to the ground. Aerith stood up as well, alarmed. “Hey, what—”

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. She eyed the door for a moment. He had his back to her: she could make a run for it. But then he gave another pained grunt and she shook her head. Cloud needed help.

She turned to the window instead. A thick layer of snow had settled on the windowsill outside. Quickly, but never turning her back on Cloud, Aerith shuffled towards it and yanked it open. Ignoring the gust of frigid air that blew in, she scooped up two generous handfuls of snow and turned back to Cloud. He’d managed to grab his sword, although he didn’t even seem to be aware of it as he pressed his free hand into his temple and stared at her with unseeing eyes.

“Re—Reun…” he muttered, taking a shaky step towards Aerith.

She grit her teeth. “Sorry ’bout this.” Then, she darted forward and cupped his face with snow-filled hands.

Cloud gasped and dropped the sword again as he took a startled step back. Aerith didn’t let go of him. He blinked hard and fast for a moment, until he shook his head and looked back at her. Only, now he was actually seeing her. “W-What…?” he breathed as his hands flew to Aerith’s.

She smiled a bit. “We back?”

“Back?” He frantically looked around for a second. Then, realisation dawned on his face. “Shit,” he groaned. He pulled lightly on her hands and she released him.

“Are you okay?” asked Aerith.

Cloud sighed. “Yeah, I—” He cut himself off as he finally seemed to realise what the cold sensation on his cheeks and neck was. “Did you just shove snow in my face?” he asked, wiping it off with a baffled expression.

Aerith laughed. “Worked, didn’t it?” She folded her hands behind her back. “I do the same, sometimes, when it all gets a bit… much. It’s a shock to the system. I didn’t know what to do, so…” She shrugged.

Cloud was quiet for a moment longer, then said, “Thanks.”

Aerith hummed, wandering back to the bed and gingerly sitting down. “So, um… You sure you’re okay? That was pretty scary.”

He grimaced. “I’m fine. It, uh… It happens.”

Aerith frowned. “It does? Um, what is ‘it?’ If you don’t mind me asking.”

Cloud didn’t reply right away. He looked uncomfortable as he stood ramrod straight, eyes fixed on the wall well over Aerith’s head.

“You don’t have to answer,” she added gently.

He sighed. “No, it’s—I don’t know. It just… happens.” He shrugged, but it looked forced. “Cellular degradation, maybe. Fun souvenir from the Mako treatments SOLDIERs get.”

“I’m sorry,” whispered Aerith. She looked down at her feet, lightly knocking the heels of her boots together. She thought back at the odd feeling in the Lifestream that had drawn her to him.

Cloud shook his head. “Don’t be. I’m used to it.”

That was a bald-faced lie, but Aerith let it slide. “Right,” she said instead.

“Right,” he repeated. “Sorry, by the way. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay,” said Aerith. “I can handle a bit of a fright.”

Cloud let out an odd chuckle, short and bitter. “Course.”

She furrowed her brows. He was fidgeting uncomfortably, drumming his fingers over his crossed arms and avoiding her gaze. As curious and concerned as she was about his strange fit, she had to let it go.

She smiled serenely. “I still think I should join you guys.”

Cloud laughed again, but it sounded more real this time. “I still say no.”

—

Tifa was at the café when Aerith stopped by for a quick bite at lunchtime. In her bid to avoid her parents, she’d left a note saying that she’d eat out, and that was that. But, as she came in, she immediately noticed Tifa sitting by herself in a booth on the far end of the café, drumming her fingers over the table as she waited for her food.

“Heya,” she greeted, making a beeline for her.

Tifa shook her head, as though she’d been deep in thought, and smiled at her. “Hey.”

“Can I join you?” asked Aerith, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

Tifa hummed, gesturing for the chair on the other side of her booth. Aerith sat down, flagged a waiter to order a sandwich, then turned back to the other girl. She looked pensive again, staring out the window at the snowy village.

“Gil for your thoughts?”

She blinked twice. “Hm? Oh, nothing exciting.” She gestured at the view outside the window. “It’s beautiful here.”

Aerith smiled. “You like it?”

Tifa nodded. “Yeah. It’s so peaceful… It’s a nice change of pace.” She frowned a bit. “Even though we do not have the time to dilly-dally here.”

“You don’t have the time to die up a mountain, either.”

“I know, I know.” Tifa held up her hands. “Don’t worry, we’ll do our best to keep Cloud in check.”

“He does seem a little…” Aerith waved a hand in the air. “Impatient.”

The other girl sighed heavily. “You can say that again.”

There was a moment of uneasy silence.

Aerith leaned with her elbows over the table and lowered her voice as she started, “Hey, um, I wanted to ask you something. Is everything… okay with Cloud?”

Tifa’s eyes flashed with alarm. She looked around the café frantically, then leaned forward as well. “Did something happen? What did he do?” she asked, a panicked note to her voice.

Aerith frowned. “I’m… not really sure. We were talking, and then he got this strange look in his eyes, like he was in pain. He went for his sword and tried to say something, but I didn’t catch it.”

The girl’s eyes went even wider. “His sword?” She frantically scanned Aerith up and down as she grabbed her wrist. “Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head. “No, no. I managed to snap him out of it before he could do anything else.” Her frown deepened. “Has he hurt you?” In the moment, it hadn’t seemed possible: Cloud actually raising his sword against her. He’d seemed barely aware of it in the first place. But…

Tifa hesitated. She released Aerith’s hand. “Once. It wasn’t too bad—just got shoved to the ground—but…” She bit her lip.

“It’s scary.” Tifa nodded. “I’m sorry,” said Aerith, lowering her gaze. “Cloud said it could be degradation from the Mako.”

She sighed. “Could be. Lots of SOLDIERs go that way. But…” She pressed her lips together. “I dunno.”

Aerith nodded slowly.

Tifa shook her head and suddenly straightened up. “Sorry, I just realised—You snapped him out of it?”

Aerith blinked twice at her, taken aback. “Um, yeah?”

“How?”

She cracked a smile. “Two handfuls of snow right in his face. Didn’t know what else to do.”

As if in spite of herself, Tifa laughed. “Wow. Might have to steal that for myself.”

Aerith chuckled as well. “You’re welcome to. How do you usually handle it?”

No answer.

Aerith frowned. “Tifa?”

“I… We didn’t know you could… handle it,” she whispered. “Every time it’s happened we’ve just… endured it.” She grimaced. “Waitin’ and hopin’ it’d pass soon.”

Suddenly, something about Cloud’s overpriced single room made more sense.

“Ah,” said Aerith.

The silence that followed was the most uncomfortable yet.

Aerith was thinking about Cloud’s strange fit. About how she had never feared for her own safety—although, according to Tifa, maybe she should have—but had worried about his instead. He’d sounded scared, in pain, and she’d just wanted to help. She glanced at Tifa, who was fiddling with her hands on the table.

Tifa cleared her throat. “Thanks,” she said quietly.

“Hm?”

“For helping Cloud.” She looked down at her hands. “It’s been… tough.”

Aerith nodded. “Yeah. I can imagine.”

“He wasn’t always like this, y’know,” added Tifa, as though she needed to get it off her chest. “Definitely not when we were kids.”

Aerith smiled a bit. “You were kids together?”

She hummed and leaned back in her seat. “Yeah. Wish I could go back to those days, now and then. Sometimes he…” She shook her head. “Never mind. I don’t wanna bum you out.”

Aerith furrowed her brows. “No, it’s—”

“Hey, look, food’s here,” said Tifa, motioning for her to let the waiter set down two plates with their food.

Aerith pressed her lips together, but nodded. “Alright, let’s talk about something else,” she said, raising her sandwich to her mouth.

Tifa nodded. “Sure. Any requests?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” said Aerith with a grin.

The other girl made a sound halfway through a laugh and a groan. “Oh, no. Cloud would kill me.”

Aerith laughed and waved a hand in the air. “Barret told me, and I quote, ‘Blondie ain’t the boss of us.’ Uh, of you. Well, no, actually, he ain’t the boss of me either. So…” She trailed off with a teasing note in her voice.

“Listen…” Tifa took a deep breath. “It’s too—”

Aerith huffed. “Dangerous—Yeah, yeah, I know. Tifa, I mean this as nicely as I can: so what?” She placed both her hands on the table. “Meteor’s dangerous. And I can help you guys deal with it. Just let me.”

Tifa sighed. “Look, we’ve all talked about this, okay? You’re a civilian.”

“And you’re not?”

“No.” Her voice was firm. “This isn’t just a hike we’re on—there’s real danger on the track. I’m just not comfortable with putting you at risk like that.” She leaned back in her seat. “And maybe that makes me a hypocrite, ’cause Cait Sith and Cid are sorta-civilians too, but I don’t care. I don’t want any more people getting hurt.” She buried her face in her hands for a moment, then looked at Aerith again. “Hey, would it make you feel better if we left you some of our phone numbers? So you can call if you get anything important from…” She motioned vaguely instead of finishing her sentence.

Aerith appreciated the discretion, but mostly she was just frustrated. “No. I’m telling you I have to actually be there for this to work.”

“For what to work?”

“I don’t know yet!” Aerith threw out her hands. “I wish I did, trust me. But it doesn’t work like that. What I do know is that if you don’t let me come with, the world will end,” she finished in a hiss.

Tifa groaned again and shook her head. “Aerith…”

“Tifa.”

But neither of them said anything. Aerith wasn’t even hungry anymore. She was running out of time. The storm would pass soon—only a day or two until Tifa and the rest left Icicle Inn. Aerith had to leave with them, but she couldn’t get any of them to take her seriously.

Tell me how to do this. Please.

Aerith and Tifa finished their meal in tense silence. Then, they just sat there for a long moment, without looking at each other.

“This is a mistake,” said Aerith, staring at the snowfall out of the window.

She heard Tifa sigh. “I’m sorry.”

—

When she got back home from the café, Aerith had forgotten that she was technically avoiding her parents. So, she was entirely unprepared when she entered the kitchen and found Ifalna sitting at the table, hands clasped together and brows knotted in worry.

“Aerith.” Her mother stood up, still wringing her hands. “We need to talk.”

Aerith grimaced. “’Bout what?” she asked, failing to sound casual.

Ifalna sighed. “Take your pick. Your father, or those strangers?”

“There’s—I got nothing to say about Dad,” said Aerith, dropping her eyes to the floor. “Did you know?”

She heard her mother take a deep breath. “Yes. When he left Shinra, he broke me out of containment to make sure I wouldn’t be used in the same experiments he’d conducted for so long.”

Aerith swallowed a knot in her throat. “How could you be okay with that?”

“It took me a long time.” Ifalna sat down at the table again, motioning for Aerith to take the chair in front of her. She remained standing. “At first, he was just a way to escape my cell. Then, he was a research partner; then, a friend. After a while, I could feel he’d changed. But it was still years before we became something else. Before we had you.”

“Yeah. Me.” Aerith stared at her mother, not even bothering to conceal the hurt she felt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Ifalna closed her eyes for a moment. “We thought it was all behind us. We didn’t want to burden you with that knowledge.” She wrung her hands tighter. “We thought it didn’t matter anymore.”

Aerith scoffed. “Well, it does. ’Cause those experiments made the guy who’s trying to—” She cut herself off and shook her head.

“To summon Meteor,” offered her mother, softly. “I know.”

“Of course you do.” Aerith frowned harder. She clenched her hands into fists. “It matters now. And I—”

Ifalna stood up again, nearly toppling her chair. “You are going to forget about this.”

She stared at her mother. “What?”

“You heard me. It’s too dangerous, Aerith, I can’t let you—”

“Are you serious!?” She threw her arms out. Why was nobody listening to her? “You know what Sephiroth is trying to do, you know what Meteor’s gonna do—You know damn well what I need to do.”

Ifalna pressed her lips together. “I don’t. I really don’t.”

Aerith glared at her. “You’re lying. You hear the same voices I do. The same warnings.”

“All I see,” said Ifalna, shaking her head, “is my daughter. Who needs to stay away from SOLDIERs and terrorists.”

She blinked. “Terrorists?”

Ifalna gave a sardonic smile. “Oh, I thought you knew everything. Those people—They’re Avalanche. The terrorists behind those disasters in Midgar.”

Aerith swallowed thickly. “I—They’re trying to stop Sephiroth, now. That’s what matters.” This is what Tifa meant by not being a civilian. “Mom, they—They’re not bad people. I can feel it.”

Her mother’s eyes hardened. “They’re dangerous.”

Aerith didn’t drop her gaze. “Oh, just like Dad was?”

Ifalna staggered back. “That’s—”

“Exactly the same!” Aerith pressed on, “The same way you know Dad’s changed, I know those people are trying to do good.” She put a hand over her heart. “And I know I have to be there.”

Neither Ifalna nor Gast were fighters. They liked to take things one step at a time—deescalate, talk it out, anything not to argue. Aerith was the quick-tongued one, the one who had no problems yelling at bullies, unfair teachers, her own parents. Every once in a while, she wondered where she’d gotten it from.

Now she was finding out.

“Aerith,” said Ifalna, voice sharp in a way Aerith had never heard. “I’m not going to lose you. Even if that means you hate me for it.”

“Even if that means we all die?” Aerith crossed her arms. “Sounds like a plan.”

“If these people are as good as you think they are, they’ll figure it out, won’t they?”

“Not without me they won’t!” She stomped her foot down. “I get that you’re scared, but… Look, if you won’t listen to me, listen to the Planet! I have to do this.”

Ifalna’s lower lip trembled. “I don’t hear anything.”

“You’re lying.” Aerith clenched her fists so hard she could feel her nails leave indents in her palm. “You’re lying. I’m sick of lies and secrets.”

“Aerith—”

“Forget it.” She whipped around. “I’m sick of this.”

With that, she marched to her room and slammed the door behind her.

She was done asking permission.

—

The next day passed in a haze.

The first thing Aerith realised when she woke up was that the storm had passed, a full day ahead of the forecast. The lack of panic in her gut told her what a visit to the inn confirmed: Cloud’s party hadn’t left yet. They’d set out at dawn the next day.

Aerith had only intended to ask the innkeeper and leave, but she heard her name called from behind her. She turned to find Tifa coming out of the dining room, followed by Cloud close on her heels.

“Oh, hey,” she said casually. “What’s up?”

Tifa fiddled with her thumbs for a moment. “We, uh, were gonna come look for you later.”

Aerith perked up. “Changed your mind?”

Cloud scoffed. “Keep dreamin’.”

Tifa smiled sheepishly. “We just wanted to say goodbye. We’re leaving tomorrow and we felt weird, going without a word.”

Aerith’s face fell, disappointed but not surprised. “Right.” She frowned. “Seriously, though, is there any way I can—”

“No.” Cloud’s voice was sharp, and Tifa flinched.

Aerith held her ground. “Why not?”

He groaned. “How many times do I gotta tell you? It’s too dangerous. Trust me on this, okay?” He shot her a meaningful glance. Somehow, Aerith recognised that he wasn’t just talking about Sephiroth or monsters on the road, but about his strange fit from the day before as well.

“I do,” she said, almost in a whisper, looking him dead in the eye.

Cloud and Tifa both stared at her, disbelieving.

“What?” he said, sounding a bit strangled.

“Don’t ask me how, or why, but I do.” Aerith shrugged. “Just one of my special little skills. I know who to trust.”

Tifa attempted to catch Cloud’s eye, but he kept his gaze on Aerith. His expression was unreadable: there was surprise, there was frustration, but they were covering something bubbling below, a vortex of emotions Aerith couldn’t decipher. She held his stare nonetheless, until he shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Can’t let you.”

Aerith frowned. “But—”

“Sorry,” said Tifa as well. She stepped forward and pressed a piece of paper in her hand. “Here. My number, and Cid’s as well, in case one of us loses their phone.”

Aerith took a deep breath and crumpled the paper in her fist. “Right,” she bit out.

Tifa grimaced. “We really are sorry. We’ll come back once this is all over, okay?”

“Whatever.” Aerith scoffed and whipped around. “Bye. Try not to die.”

If Tifa and Cloud were taken aback by her sudden shift in attitude, she didn’t see. It didn’t matter, anyway: just as long as they didn’t follow her.

“We’ll be back, I promise!” called Tifa as she stormed out of the inn.

Cloud said nothing, but Aerith felt his gaze on the back of her head until the door closed behind her.

Once she was outside, she tucked the paper in her pocket and took a deep breath.

Let them think they’d won.

Dinner was quick and quiet: just enough to let her parents know she was fine and totally not mad about her father, but that she was also holding a grudge about the secrets and the strangers and didn’t want to be bothered.

Back in her room, she pulled a sturdy red backpack from the depths of her closet. She packed warm clothes, canned food that she’d snuck in that afternoon, all the hiking gear she had, Materia.

She marvelled at her little collection of magical orbs: she’d never gotten much of a chance to use them but, well, no time like the present. She slotted them all in two metal bracelets her parents had gotten her for her eighteenth birthday and put those on. The weight on her wrists was unfamiliar, but welcome and comforting. Magic at her fingertips: it felt right.

Once she was reasonably sure she’d packed everything she’d need, she sat in front of her mirror to braid her hair: she wanted it tight, close to her head, coiled up so it’d fit under a hat. But, just as she raised her hands to undo her braid, she paused. In the mirror, the glint off of her Materia had a strange glow, like it was trying to get her attention. But when she looked down, there was nothing special about it.

Aerith pursed her lips. She looked in the mirror again. Now the strange glint came from a metal jewellery box on her dresser, which looked normal when she checked. Third time: a jar of candy, also decidedly un-shiny outside of the mirror.

Alright, a girl can take a hint.

Aerith stood up and wandered to the centre of her room. She clasped her hands in front of her and let her senses overflow. Okay, I’ll bite, she thought. Tell me.

The Lifestream rippled around her, guiding her awareness to her wrist. She looked at her Materia-studded bracelet: Fire, Ice, Lightning, Cure—all as it should have been. Except, when Aerith brushed over the orbs, they flashed white one by one under her fingertips.

She furrowed her brows. White? She’d never seen white Materia. She touched the orbs again, and again they went white. She glanced at the mirror again. Even though she’d dropped her praying stance, it was still reflected in the glass, as though it were on a delay.

As Aerith slowly drew closer, she noticed that the Aerith in the mirror was holding something bright in her hands, something whose glow peeked through her fingers. She brushed the glass and it rippled under her hand like water.

“What the…?” she whispered.

She paused for a second, listening for her parents’ voices. They were still far away, coming from the living room or the kitchen. Good.

Aerith returned her attention to the mirror. She took a deep breath and reached out again. This time, her fingers sank into the glass. After just a moment, she felt them brush against something cool and smooth on the other side. She gasped as she pulled it out: a small orb of Materia, milky white and glossy.

She stared at it, then at the mirror. She was positive it had never been liquid before. Had the Materia been hidden inside it her whole life? Had she only found it now because she was ready, or because it was time? The White Materia was her mother’s. There was no doubt in her mind about it. Had she put it there, years before? To keep it safe? She matched the fading image of the praying Aerith in the mirror and held the Materia to her chest.

Nothing.

She frowned. “What do you do?” she whispered, studying the orb.

But no answers came. Aerith pursed her lips together. Maybe it wasn’t time-time yet. Still, there had to be a reason the Lifestream had guided her to it now. She sat down at her mirror again and quickly unravelled her braid. When she redid her hair, plaiting it close to her head, she made sure to tuck the White Materia inside. Once she was done, she gave an experimental shake of the head. Everything felt secure.

She nodded at her own reflection, satisfied. Now, all that was left was to get an early night. She set her alarm for the next day and slipped under her covers, making sure to savour the warmth and comfort like she was saying goodbye.

—

The sun always rose late in Icicle Inn—even more so in the winter.

Aerith’s alarm tore through the quiet and the dark, and she shut it off quickly so it wouldn’t wake her parents. Her hands trembled with trepidation as she got dressed and made her bed. They trembled as she wrote a quick note to her parents to leave on the kitchen table. They trembled as she grabbed her backpack and slipped out of her room, tiptoeing through the house until she slipped out of it too.

But, once she closed the door behind her, they didn’t tremble anymore.

She hesitated only a moment longer, thinking about her father who still thought she hated him. But there was no time to sort out her feelings, let alone time to make it right with him. She shook her head: it would have to wait until she came back.

The bitter cold of Icicle Inn’s early morning nipped at the exposed skin on her face, but she just pressed on. As she made her way towards the Northern gate of the village, she passed by the inn. Instinctively, she looked up at the windows she knew belonged to Cloud’s party’s rooms. Just as she did so, one light flickered on—Cloud’s. Aerith quickly ducked her head: it was dark, but she couldn’t risk him spotting her.

Instead, she walked faster towards the gate, grateful for the peace of a morning so early it was technically still night: no snowfall, no wind, no people.

The path leading up to the cabin at the foot of the mountain was lit by trail lamps, always kept on to make sure that section was safe to traverse. After the chalet, the journey through the Great Glacier to Gaea’s Cliff got far more dangerous and difficult, but Aerith was prepared.

She walked fast, but not fast enough to burn too much energy. Within an hour, just as the sun was starting to rise, the wooden log cabin emerged from the darkness. Aerith drew in a relieved sigh when she noticed that the lights were on. What the hell he was doing up at that time of the morning, she had no idea, but she wasn’t about to complain. Quickly, she jogged up to the door and knocked twice. “Mr Holzoff!” she called. “Mr Holzoff, are you in?”

There was shuffling from inside, then the door opened, revealing an older man with a bewildered expression. “What—Aerith? That you?” He adjusted his glasses. “What are you doing here? Are your folks alright?”

Aerith held up her hands. “Yes, yes, everything’s fine. I’m waiting for some friends, is it okay if I warm up here a little bit before we leave for the mountain? Just ’til they get here.”

Mr Holzoff crossed his arms. “You climbing up Gaea’s Cliff?”

She nodded. “Yep. Got all my gear, don’t worry.”

“Well, alright,” he said, stepping to the side to let her in. “Want some coffee while you wait?”

Aerith shook her head. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, Mr Holzoff.”

He hummed, then returned to his armchair and picked his abandoned book back up.

She shrugged her backpack and heavy coat off—just so she wouldn’t overheat and faint in the fireplace-warm cabin. After that, she parked herself by the window and looked out at the trail. Her ‘friends’ wouldn’t knock to come find her. She couldn’t afford to miss them.

She wasn’t sure how fast they’d be, or when exactly they’d leave the village. Or, rather, when they’d left. If they were just getting up when Aerith had passed by, they were probably on their way by now. She thanked her lucky stars that there was only one way out of Icicle Inn.

The White Materia, safely tucked in her braid, pressed against her scalp, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt like continued approval from the Planet: proof that she was supposed to do this.

As she waited, she wondered how her parents were going to react once they woke up and found her note. She imagined she had only about two hours more of wondering, though: as soon as they realised, they were going to blow up her phone. But she’d be well on her way by then, and they’d just have to accept it. She could deal with their anger when the time came.

Her first order of business was dealing with Cloud and the others. She couldn’t imagine them being happy about her little stunt but, like her parents, they’d just have to deal with it. The White Materia seemed to warm up for a moment in reassurance.

Right.

The cabin was quiet: the only sounds to be heard were the crackling of the fire and the turning of Mr Holzoff’s book’s pages. The outside looked even stiller: no wind, no animals, no group of aspiring world-saviours. Just soft snow and the breaking dawn.

Aerith wasn’t sure how long she’d been waiting when something stirred just beyond the bend. She straightened up: the figures were still far away, but she could clearly make out Barret’s and Vincent’s shapes—the one hulking and slow, the other still clad in that red cape.

It was time.

“Mr Holzoff!” she exclaimed, rushing to grab her coat. “Thank you so much for letting me stay. My friends are here, so I’m just gonna—”

She never finished her sentence, nor did she hear Mr Holzoff’s response, because she was out of the door in a flash.

Keeping her eyes fixed on the approaching figures, Aerith fished her phone out of her pocket and quickly dialled a number.

“H-Hello?” Tifa sounded out of breath when she picked up. “Who is this?”

Aerith beamed. “Heya!” she said. “It’s me. Mornin’!”

“Ae—Aerith!?” she exclaimed. In the background of the call, a couple of voices repeated her name and the figures in the distance stopped. “What the—What’re you doing up?”

She giggled. “Oh, y’know, I had some stuff to do.”

“Right.” Tifa didn’t sound convinced at all, but that was fine. “Do you, um, have any new intel we should know about?”

Aerith sighed theatrically. “Not as such. Well, I do have news, but you’re not gonna like it.”

“Oh, great.” Tifa groaned. “Alright, let’s hear it.”

Aerith was glad she didn’t have to push down her grin. “Come on up, so we can talk.”

There was a long, stunned pause. “Come on… up? Aerith, what—Hey!”

Shuffling sounds, then Cloud’s voice came through the phone. “Tell me right now you’re not standing on the porch of that goddamn cabin.”

Aerith giggled. “Sorry, I think you’re breaking up! See ya!” She ended the call and jogged down the stairs, then looked out at the trail again.

Predictably, one of the figures peeled itself off of the group and, ten seconds later, Cloud Strife was standing in front of her, red faced and bewildered.

“Are you out of your mind?” he spat out, panting slightly.

Aerith shrugged. “I’m honestly shocked that you didn’t see this coming. Thought you had me pegged.” She shot him an innocent smile as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I did,” said Red, coming up beside him.

Cloud glared down at him. “You did what?”

Red sat down. “See this coming.”

“And you didn’t say shit about it.”

He shrugged. “No,” he said simply.

Cloud groaned and turned back to Aerith. “You’re out of your mind.” It wasn’t a question, this time. “You have no idea what—”

“Oh, come off it,” scoffed Aerith. “I’m in this with you, whether you like it or not.”

“I don’t like it,” he said immediately.

“Tough.” She smiled, first at him and then at the rest of his party, coming up from behind. “’Sides, I’m not sick of you guys yet.”

Barret muttered something under his breath, but Tifa elbowed his side. She grimaced. “Aerith…”

She nodded solemnly. “I know what I’m doing. I promise.” She held out her hands, exposing her Materia. “See? Armed and dangerous.”

“Oh!” piped up Yuffie, popping up behind Cid’s shoulder. “I like her.”

“Shut it, you,” said Barret, sticking a hand in front of her. But he was still frowning at Aerith. “This ain’t happenin’. Run back home, Aerith, we got this.”

Aerith frowned right back. “Not a chance. You need me. I think—” The White Materia was heavy in her hair. “—I think I know how to stop Meteor.” Or, at least, she had the shape of an idea in mind. The Planet would guide her the rest of the way.

Stunned silence fell over the group.

Cloud shook his head. He looked at her and she held his gaze for a long moment, trying to put all her conviction into it.

You need me. We can only do this together. I’m in this with you.

He raised his eyes to the sky and took a deep breath. When he looked at her again, his expression had hardened.

Aerith steeled herself.

“We’re wasting time,” he said, moving past her in two long strides. “Let’s go.”

Aerith whipped around to stare at him as a chorus of “What!?” came from behind her.

“You can’t be serious,” said Barret.

Cloud turned, frowning. “We’re already lagging behind ’cause of the storm. I’m not wasting another minute arguing here. Let’s go,” he said, nodding towards the mountain. He started walking again, and Aerith hurried after him.

A moment filled with groans and whispers passed, then the others moved too, quickly falling into step.

Aerith glanced back at them and smiled, then jogged up to Cloud. “Hey, thanks,” she said.

He shot her a sidelong look. “Don’t make me regret this.”

She laughed. “After all the big talk I talked? No way.” She flexed playfully. “Gotta save face. And the world.”

Cloud shook his head and fixed his eyes on the trail in front of him.

But Aerith caught the small smile on his face before he could hide it, and smiled as well.

So smol

2 out of 4 Bahamut Suits done, was able to make cloud suit glow too 🥹 I actually love my sims so much. just so cute together

Need an AU where Cloud is the only one who can see Sephiroth’s ghost because it’s a manifestation of his already shattered mind making a last ditch effort to save its own sanity by making the idolized version Cloud has always had of his hero