Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’d been two years since Zack disappeared.

Officially he was listed as missing in action. Possibly dead.

Rumors among SOLDIER and infantry men were that he deserted. Genesis and Angeal already did. Why wouldn’t Zack? The loss left a sense of confusion and dread within the remaining troops. Their superiors had all but abandoned them, supplying vague answers and empty reassurances that everything was under control.

“But I don’t believe any of it!” Kunsel affirmed out loud.

“Sounds like you guys have your hands full.”

Sitting next to him on the church pew was Aerith. Kunsel glanced over at the girl, idly playing with the ends of her long braid. Despite her supposed indifference, Kunsel knew she didn’t believe the rumors either--If the letters she continued to send the missing man were any indication. He scratched the back of his neck bashfully.

“Sorry--Shouldn’t be runnin' my mouth off on company stuff on your birthday.”

“I don’t mind, I’m the one who asked,” Aerith jumped to her feet and crouched by her flowers. “We can keep a secret.”

He watched as she nudged the delicate buds with her hands like they were kittens. If flowers could make noise, he imagined they’d purr with the way she treated them.

“Didn’t Zack make you a flower wagon?” Kunsel asked. “Told me about it. Sounded like you really put him through the wringer, too.”

“It was nice,” Aerith answered flately, “But it broke.”

She kept her back to him.

“Want me to fix it? I’m pretty good with my hands! Consider it a birthday favor.”

“No, thank you.”

Kunsel tilted his head. “Wouldn’t it make it easier to carry your flowers around?”

She didn’t answer.

This happened a lot, Kunsel realized. Underneath her playful exterior was an aloofness he’d only seen from his superiors--all of whom had long since abandoned Shinra. It hadn’t slipped his notice either that wherever she went, a black suit followed. She must've closer to the company than he imagined. Did Zack know?

There had to be a story for all that, but he wasn’t sure if he was in a position to hear it.

The wagon in question stood untouched in the corner of the church. Kunsel got off the pew to inspect it. At a glance, the wagon seemed fine. But with a gentle push forward and back, one of the wheels rolled off with a resounding clank. The contraption was still in good condition otherwise,  and an easy enough fix. Why was Aerith so adamant on leaving it the way it was?

“I’m waiting for Zack to fix it.” Aerith told him, completely unprompted. Kunsel jumped.

“O-oh, y-you are?”

“He made it, so he has to take responsibility.”

Kunsel scratched his chin.

How should he say this?

“What if he… doesn’t come back?”

Aerith looked up. Bright green eyes piercing right through him. They hadn't known each other long, but he could never get used to how intense her stare could be. Thinking it a mistake, Kunsel opened his mouth to apologize. But then she stomped her foot and screeched.

“Then I just won’t use it!”

Her voice cracked.

For her sake, he pretended not to notice.

*

The wagon remained in the corner as they chatted abut other things. The slums, Kunsel's missions. He didn't bring up Zack again.

“Can I ask a birthday favor?” Aerith asked abrutply.

He blinked. He'd nearly forgotten.

“Shoot.”

“Can I see your face?”

He blinked again.

“I... guess I don’t mind?”

Frankly the idea of taking his helmet off in front of her made him nervous. The Turks were definitely watching. What if they took a shot at him the second he made himself vulnerable? Nah, they wouldn’t do that in front of her, would they?

Slowly, he slipped his head out of the safety of his helmet, feeling completely naked.

Aerith looked him up and down. Again, those green eyes pierced right through him like she knew exactly what he was thinking. Her expression was serious. Thoughtful. Then she smiled.

“I’ll remember you, Kunsel. Thank you.”

He put his helmet back on, grateful he still had a head to wear one.

“Happy birthday, Aerith. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you.”

“You’ve done plenty.”

After parting ways, Kunsel took out his mobile phone and pushed Zack's name on his list of contacts.

He should let him know that Aerith was expecting him, so he'd better come back. There would be hell to pay otherwise.

Chapter Text

Nothing seemed to frighten Aerith when Elmyra first met her.

In spite of the unfortunate circumstances that resulted in taking in the young girl, Aerith opened up quickly, not once hesitating to tell her stories about the Planet and the experience of growing up in a highly monitored lab. Frankly, it all sounded beyond Elmyra’s comprehension.

Even when the dark suited man found them, spoke the truth of Aerith’s origins, it only made Aerith angry. She lost her temper and screamed at him. Demanded him to leave. Elmyra had never seen her like that before.

But thunderstorms. Thunderstorms frightened her.

They scared her so much she’d hide inside closets, under tables, under the bed--Elmyra found her hiding in a kitchen cabinet once. Just the beginnings of distant rumbling was enough to make Aerith jump out of her seat. Those nights when it stormed, she’d bury herself in Elmyra’s bed.

“Why is the sky so loud?” Aerith’s muffled voice came through the blankets. “Is the Planet angry?”

Elmyra pet her head over the covers. “It’s not as complicated as that, honey.”

But her efforts to explain the natural effects of the ever-changing weather to soothe and comfort the young girl didn’t make her any less afraid. At the very least, talking distracted Aerith enough that she’d eventually sleep through the storm. Watching her in those moments, undisturbed and drifting peacefully, Elmyra’s heart ached. There was still so little she knew about her and where she came from.

So against her better judgment, she got in touch with the dark suited man. Perhaps hearing what Aerith’s upbringing was like from someone who knew her would help put it into perspective.

“The Ancient was already under Shinra’s jurisdiction by the time I was made aware of her, so I don’t know the details myself.” The Turk named Tseng told her over the phone. “Based on the reports she was often confined to her room, although occasionally she was allowed to explore the floor of her lab for recreational purposes, so long as she remained under constant surveillance.”

“That sounds awful.”

“The company did what it needed to protect her.”

“By locking up an innocent girl?” Elmyra’s voice strained. “Ancient or not, she’s only a child!”

Tseng was unmoved. “Regardless of the company’s past choices, the Ancient is under your care now. You should do well to remember that if any harm came to her, we will know.”

“The only intentions I have are to protect her!” she spat. “What are yours, Turk?”

“My job is to keep her safe.”

“You would put your job over her life?”

Static filled the receiver as the man exhaled.

“It would have to be enough, if you want my help.”

Elmyra hoped she would never have to ask him for anything.

Unfortunately, the Planet must not have held her in high regard, as several weeks later a sudden downpour caught the slums by surprise. The forecast had only mentioned cloudy weather. Perhaps the rain caught up with them quicker than expected.

Engrossed with making dinner, she missed the first distant rumbles when they came. It was only when she felt the tremors through the earth, through her chest, when she looked up with a jolt.

Thunder.

*

It was exactly 8PM when Tseng’s mobile phone rang. The number on the caller ID wasn’t on his list of contacts.

Normally he would’ve let it go to voicemail. But for no particular reason, he picked up.

“I can’t find Aerith!”

The voice on the other end was breathing heavily. Tseng recognized them as panicked breaths.

“Ms. Gainsborough?”

“If you’re true to your word, then help me!”

Tseng stood there, half leaning at his desk in shock.

“Turk!”

He straightened, standing at attention.

“Tell me what happened.”

*

Elmyra paced back and forth in the dining room of her home.

After searching town for Aerith and coming up empty handed, she’d used a neighbor’s phone to call Tseng. She feared that the girl had gone outside town. After listening to her anxious rambling with astonishing patience, the Turk instructed her to wait at home while he searched for Aerith, just in case she happened to come back first.

But Aerith hadn’t come back.

Elmyra sunk onto the dining table, head in her hands as the thunder and rain raged on outside.

She was close to breaking into sobs when she suddenly heard Tseng’s voice from outside the door, nearly tripping over her feet to let him in. The sight when she did nearly had her falling to her knees in shame.

Cradled in his arms was Aerith, fast asleep and drenched in rain.

She’d let this happen.

If Tseng could see what she was feeling, he didn’t say.

“She was in the abandoned church in sector 5,” he explained, placing her in Elmyra’s arms. “There was no immediate danger to her life.”

“Oh… oh, thank goodness.”

Aerith shivered from the cold but remained asleep. The thunder had moved on to muffled rumbling, though the rain continued to pound almost mercilessly against the roof of the house. Elmyra carefully wiped the water from the girl’s face with her apron, feeling the Turk watch her as she did. Perhaps he was reconsidering that she wasn’t capable of caring for Aerith. If she was to be honest with herself, she was afraid she wasn’t either.

“The…” Elmyra heard him start and stop abruptly. From her peripheral, she could see his posture relax. “Aerith, she… she kept asking for her mother.”

It stung to hear that, but she smiled all the same.

“I see…”

“You misunderstand. She was referring to you .”

At that, Elmyra looked up. But Tseng had already turned his back and left.

*

No amount of trouble scared Aerith enough to stay home. She continued to get herself trapped in a number of situations that Elmyra would call Tseng in for. It was enough to drive the woman mad! There was one thing she noticed though, one morning on the cusp of an oncoming storm.

Aerith wasn’t afraid anymore.

Had Tseng told her something that day he found her in the church? Or was her newfound bravery something she discovered on her own?

Maybe it was neither and she was simply experiencing the normalcies of growing up, as every child should.

Elmyra hoped so, anyway.

Chapter Text

The large LOVELESS billboard overlooking sector 8 was a beloved staple of the district. Surrounding the perimeter were antique shops, jazz clubs, and an assorted culture of art and food that complemented the image of the classic play as their centerpiece. If the various sectors of Midgar acted as the arms and body, the rhythmic hum of sector 8 was surely the heart. 

Thinking that way used to comfort Genesis, once.

Now, looking up at the billboard that used to fill him with so much purpose, he could only feel empty.

“Hellooooo?” a bright voice interrupted.

He pried his eyes off the billboard and looked. A lone girl stood on the sidewalk in front of him, waving her hand in candid greeting. Hooked around the elbow of her opposite arm was a basket of flowers. Fake ones? That was an odd thing to carry around. Genesis jerked his chin.

“Prop store’s that way.”

“Hey!” the girl pouted. “I’ll have you know these are genuine, high quality products!”

She shoved a yellow bud into his face.

“See!”

Genesis stared at it impassively. It looked real enough, if he had to consider it.

“Matches your jacket, don’t you think?” she cupped the flower close to her chest to demonstrate. “Red like mine, right? You’ve got good taste.”

The flower girl twirled, showing off her outfit: A modest pink dress, boots, and red army jacket. It was nothing particularly special, but her compliment spurred Genesis to keep talking to her.

“Mine was custom made,” he told her. “Using the highest quality leather and silk from Wutai.”

“Mine was thrifted!” She pumped her fist and did a little jump. “With some added embellishments by yours truly! Oh, but… Looks like yours is in need of some TLC.” She gestured to the tears and dust along the edges of his coat.

Genesis ran his hands down the sides of his coat, appreciating the wrinkles in the fabric. For a long time he was particular about the presentation of his appearance. Every fiber of his clothes, every strand of his hair, had to be in its place. Anything less was unbefitting of his character. But those hours spent thinking and making up his image were hardly relevant anymore.

He dusted the white ash from his coat  “Doesn’t need any. I wear it because I like it.”

With a finger to her lips, the girl hummed and circled him. Taking her time to look him up and down. The pink ribbon in her hair bounced with her movements, and she didn’t seem to care that he was staring at her as much as she stared at him.

She was an odd one. Not as odd as the fools he used to work with, though.

“Hmm, it does add character.” she finally conceded. “You’re a SOLDIER, right?”

“Not anymore.” He hated how bitter he sounded.

“So why keep the uniform?”

Genesis bit the inside of his cheek. The answer was far too complicated to tell some flower girl on the street. For as much as Shinra betrayed him, this uniform was a part of him now. When he finally staked his claim on the planet, he wanted to be recognized in this uniform not as a SOLDIER of Shinra, but a legend.

In short, he wanted nothing less than to be seen as a hero.

Her role was irrelevant in the grand scheme of his ideals, but something about the girl compelled his mouth to keep flapping. Maybe it was those green eyes of hers that looked so much like the color of mako.

“Don’t know,” he said with a flourish of his jacket. ”It’s a proper look for a hero though, wouldn’t you say?”

“A hero?”

Genesis smirked and passed a hand through his hair, putting the other on his hip and posed for her.

“What do you think?”

The girl’s eyes were inquisitive as she looked up at him, considering him with utter seriousness. They really did look like the color of mako, only without any artificial corruption. Genesis had the faintest sense that he was seeing the purest glimpse of the lifestream through them.

She looked away, kicking her feet along the sidewalk.

“I dunno what a hero should look like. Never met one.”

Then she spun back with her arms outstretched.

“What about me? Do I look like a hero?” Daintily she pulled the skirt of her dress with the tips of her fingers and curtsied. “Well?”

He shrugged. “If you were a hero, what’s the purpose of the outfit?”

“What do you mean?”

“How do you want your enemies to feel?”

The tips of her lips curled into a sly smirk that surprised him. A playful look that, in hindsight, seemed fitting for a girl with eyes reflecting the elusive ebb and flow of the lifestream.

“I just hope they think I’m cute!”

Genesis blinked, strangely awed.

“An admirable goal.”

The girl appeared satisfied with that response.

*

The doors to the theater opened as the show ended, and a flood of people poured into the streets. Going home, going drinking. Things Genesis was no longer familiar with. He watched as the flower girl greeted potential customers with the same enthusiasm she greeted him, then he turned and slipped into the crowd.

This city had nothing for him anymore.

Maybe for that girl, her heroic story was only beginning.

Of that he was sure. She wore a red jacket like he did, after all. And only heroes wore red.

Chapter Text

Rufus’ body ached on the helicopter ride to Mdgar. The healing rain had cured his geostigma but the lasting effects it had on his body remained to be another uphill battle. Physical therapy and prescribed bed rest helped, but he was growing impatient with the slow progress he was making.

So when the WRO proposed a plan to salvage the remaining debris in Midgar for the continuing construction of Edge, Rufus volunteered to join the Turks in their search for the most viable area to start. They were highly against it, of course.

“I suppose I’ll sit around waiting to get kidnapped a fourth time.”

He was fully aware of how childish that sounded. Since when did Rufus Shinra resort to passive aggressive manipulation? Not that he was ever above it, but he’d been more eloquent about it in the past. The world had changed and so had he, he guessed.

Exasperated glances were exchanged, but they allowed him to come with little argument after that.

*

There were few places to land a helicopter in Midgar’s current state. Tseng noted that once excavation began, more sectors would begin to open up. For now, most had closed off and become unstable.

“Is there a path to sector 0 from here?” Rufus grunted, settling into his wheelchair. The journey here was much more taxing than he thought. They’d entered what remained of sector 8 but none of the streets Rufus had become so familiar with looked anything like he remembered.

“Even if there was, s’probably not safe.” Reno declared. “Most of Midgar looks like this now, thanks to what we did to it.”

“Reno!” Elena jabbed the red-head in the back, eliciting a yelp.

“It’s alright, Elena,” Rufus chuckled darkly. “Quite the legacy to leave behind, isn’t it?” He gestured to the rubble around them. “My father built an empire to revolutionize the human race, and I nearly ended it.”

He wasn’t looking for empathy. He simply said how he felt, which often troubled the people around him, too polite to tell him otherwise. The Turks looked unimpressed, however. Perhaps the only people he tolerated to look at him like that.

“I mean, it was a good look for us.” Reno humored with a wide grin. “What do you say, boss? Wanna shake things up a little like old times? Give the WRO something to sweat about?”

Elena’s mouth dropped at the suggestion. Rude and Tseng were also taken aback. Even for a joke, it was a dangerous thought. Rufus couldn’t say he hadn’t entertained the idea before. It was so much easier to take things by force. The process of gaining trust and adoration the legitimate way was so incredibly slow.

But the reason Rufus found himself in this wheelchair in the first place was exactly because of his own hubris.

The planet wouldn’t be so merciful next time.

“I think we give the WRO enough trouble as is,” Rufus smirked. “I’m funding their project, after all.”

The others shook their heads as Reno joined him in laughter.

*

The next hour was spent making notes and drawing plans for future construction work. Any metal parts and steel beams still in good condition could be cut and reused as spare material, and the same process could be applied to the concrete in the rubble. The process had to be extremely particular however, due to the nature of the unstable structures. They couldn’t just bring in any number of people without considering the genuine risk of their safety.

Rufus would bring this up in the next WRO meeting. If needed, the entire project could be abandoned completely.

This he affirmed as he looked out at the empty sky. And when he brought his gaze down, noticed something peculiar in the shadow of a fallen building.

“What is it, boss?” Elena walked to his side.

“Is that what I think it is?” Rufus couldn’t take his eyes off it. Elena followed his gaze and gasped.

“A flower?”

The others looked as well, each exclaiming their own unique reaction of surprise.

No doubt, it was a flower.

Rude inspected the area around the plant. There was no way forward, but one could possibly squeeze their way through.

“I want to see what’s past there.” Rufus told them. The Turks shifted uncomfortably.

“We’ll go.” Tseng said. “Elena, stay with--”

“No.” Rufus pushed out of the wheelchair. It hurt to stand at his full height, but it was enough. “I’m going too.”

*

It always surprised Rufus how easily his stamina drained over the simplest of tasks. Squeezing through the rubble nearly knocked the wind out of him. He blamed it on the lack of airflow, and understood now why SOLDIERS voluntarily exposed themselves to mako for superhuman strength.

When he finally made it out he collapsed to his knees. Rude, who’d gone first to make sure it was safe, ran to his side as the others caught up. The air here felt different as he breathed through his mouth, catching his breath. Inhaling and exhaling something that tasted sweet as it was stuffy. The sensation seemed to numb his head from the pain, and when he sat back and looked up, understood why.

They’d somehow made their way to sector 0. And there, surrounding the perimeter of where the Shinra building once stood tall, was a scattered field of yellow flowers.

The sight quieted his breathing in a moment of awe.

“Hooooly shit!” Reno exclaimed as his head popped out of the narrow path. “Holy shit!”

“I know, right?” Rude smiled as his partner bounced towards him.

“Oh!” Elena came next, blonde hair covered in dirt and sticking up on odd ends. “This is--”

Tseng pushed out last, passively taking in the scene before him. Though his eyes glimmered with the same look of bewilderment as the others did.

Like children, Elena and Reno jumped and ran excitedly around Rude. Pulling his sleeve, climbing on him, climbing each other. It was an excitement that couldn't be vocalized except in whoops and shouts, bursting with energy that had to be let out somehow.

The three looked ahead as Rufus sat with Tseng, processing the scene before him. They were just flowers, he would’ve trampled over them once. But something about them now felt precious and sacred. Maybe he was more exhausted than he thought.

“These are hers, aren’t they?” Rufus asked in a low voice. “That Ancient.”

“Yes.” Tseng answered without looking at him. “These were Aerith’s.”

“You knew her well.”

“She was my charge.”

“As was I. So I know how seriously you must’ve taken it.”

“I hardly took my work with you seriously.”

Rufus guffawed, throwing his head back. Tseng smirked playfully.

Truthfully, Rufus knew little about Aerith aside from scientific reports and research notes. The girl hardly seemed human in his eyes. It never made sense to him the amount of money and effort his father threw away in the hopes that she would open some magical portal to the lifestream. Efforts that surely made her hate his family, and even more so when he took his father’s mantle and began to hurt her friends directly.

By that logic, her flowers shouldn’t be growing in a place that was a source of so much pain.

“Is this forgiveness?” Rufus wondered aloud.

Tseng tilted his head, thinking. “I don’t believe it is.”

“Then why?” Rufus valued Tseng’s opinion far more than his own sometimes. He hummed and sighed.

“A number of Shinra personnel were also affected by the decisions the company made. This could be Aerith’s way of remembering them.”

“In layman's terms, please, Tseng.” Rufus rolled his eyes. The man always resorted to professionalism when he wasn't comfortable speaking his mind. Tseng grunted.

“The flowers are for Midgar, not for Shinra.”

“I see…” He could accept that answer.

“We can’t know for sure.”

“I’ll trust your memory of her.”

After resting a little longer and taking in more of the view, they returned to the helicopter and made their way back to the city. Rufus slept through the whole ride, his bones aching less than when they arrived. In his dreams he saw flower fields and a brown-haired girl.

The church in sector 5--he should bring that up in the next WRO meeting too. Have that place protected and repaired.

It was for the good of the people, and even better for his image.

It was certainly not a favor to Aerith.

Chapter Text

Unless it was a direct order from the President, Veld didn’t concern himself with other matters within the company. A self-imposed rule to keep his sanity in a fast-paced, unpredictable environment that used to thrill and excite him for the very same reasons. But for as much as he tried to stay out of everyone’s business, they always pulled him into theirs.

Veld was passing through the research floor when he spotted a woman standing anxiously by the doors leading to the stairs. Judging by the lab coat she wore, she must’ve been one of the researchers.

“What seems to be the problem?” he asked. It was rude not to when he’d already noticed.

The woman hesitated, eyes shifting. Then she leaned in and whispered, “Please don’t tell Professor Hojo, but one of his subjects has gone missing.”

Veld raised an eyebrow. It wouldn’t do to have something dangerous running loose in Shinra building. It would be pandemonium. For now, he needed more information.

“Has the subject breached the other floors?”

The woman shook her head.

“As you know, a keycard is required to access the stairs and elevators, so we believe it’s hiding on the current floor. Some of us are still looking, but we’d like to solve this as quietly as possible…”

“Or Hojo would have your head severed and examined.”

The woman paled and looked away. “Y-yes, sir.”

Veld exhaled. There were no pressing matters that required his immediate attention. He supposed he could help. It would mean less work for him and his Turks down the line too, should this end up coming to light on Hojo’s end.

“What does it look like?” Veld looked down at his watch. He could spare 10 minutes.

“The subject is a small child, about five years old.”

He looked up, brows furrowing. The woman continued as if she hadn’t noticed.

“Her name is Aerith. She’s likely hiding under a desk, behind lab equipment… we’re not sure. But if she isn’t found soon--”

Veld held up his hand.

“I’ll find her.”

*

There couldn’t be many places for a child to hide. Veld checked under tables, desks, inside packing boxes. The whole endeavor felt vaguely like a game of hide-and-seek.

Well, she was only five. It was possible she believed that’s what this whole thing was, an extravagant game.

Veld paused and rubbed the stubble on his chin. He used to play hide-and-seek with his daughter, but that felt like a lifetime ago. She also had the privilege of hiding in places other than the house, in the yard behind bushes, atop trees. The subject--Aerith--only had as far as the research floor allowed her. What trees would she climb here? She hadn’t gotten into the vents in any case. He made sure to check for that as he went from room to room.

There was one place in particular that Veld wasn’t sure if anyone had looked.

He called a white coat over and pointed to a metallic door.

“What’s in there?”

“Oh, that’s cold storage.” The employee explained, “We keep cell samples in there, but it’s normally locked for security purposes.”

Veld walked up to the door and tugged the handle. It opened.

“What!” The white coat exclaimed. “That’s impossible, it should’ve--”

Veld stepped inside. As he suspected, Aerith was there. Curled up and unconscious on the floor, but breathing. How long had she been in here? The door wasn’t locked, so she likely slipped inside when no one was looking. Perhaps to hide, or simple curiosity. Veld pushed the matter aside and quickly wrapped her in his coat.

There was a clamor of gratitude and apologies when he returned her to the researchers, but he remained deaf to it all as he watched them wheel her away on a stretcher. The weight of her that he felt in his arms faded along with the cold.

That night he dreamed of his daughter, curled up and unconscious on the ground as Aerith had been. Only instead of a slow, cold death, she was wrapped in a blaze of inferno.

*

Temperatures were rising between Midgar and Wutai. War was imminent. The company worked the Turks like dogs in retrieving intelligence from enemies and allies alike. No one was to be trusted. Veld remembered a time when the Turks used to be valued, but his memories of such things seemed to become more and more like fables from an old man.

“There seems to be some commotion on the floor above us.” Tseng, his newest recruit, placed a cup of coffee on his desk. “Should I look into it, sir?”

The floor above theirs was the research lab. Veld thought of Aerith. She would be seven by now.

He took a long sip of his coffee before addressing the young Turk.

“You’ve read the reports about the child they keep here, haven’t you?”

“Yes. She and her mother are to lead us to the Promised Land.”

“Do you believe that?”

“It sounds improbable, but the evidence suggests it can be done.”

Veld chuckled into his coffee. Tseng tilted his head, confused.

“Have I said something wrong, sir?”

“No, no.” Veld leaned back and sighed. “You are exactly right.”

Like Aerith, Tseng was just another kid caught up in the system of unbalanced power. He wasn’t to blame for the drivel the company fed him. That blame lay solely with the adults.

*

Hojo’s favor with the President was slipping. Not only had he failed to deliver the Promised Land but the health of Aerith’s mother, Ifalna, was rapidly deteriorating. The loss of the last pureblooded Ancient would be a huge blow to the company's research.

Veld suspected that should the loss come, Hojo would prepare Aerith as the main candidate in the experiments going forward. The idea of it created mixed emotions in the pit of his gut. What could he do for her at this point? Had he not been complicit with her captivity all this time? Was he not complicit when his family died in Kalm? He may not have been the one to push the button, but his actions within the company had become the hand to do it.

“The President thinks taking the Promised Land will make him untouchable--Ha!” Mayor Domino cackled over his bottle of whiskey. Old as he was, the man was spirited and lively. Veld admired that about him. However his shrinking importance in the public’s eye often resulted in outbursts like these. The President was to thank for that. Veld lit his third cigarette.

“Hojo is just as disposable as the rest of us.”

The mayor threw his head back and laughed. He was always too frank when he was drunk.

“No! The President is too desperate to let Hojo go, and that mad man doesn’t care who funds his projects. It’s a symbiotic relationship… that’s all this company is…” he put his head down on his desk and sputtered. “At the end o’ the day... we’re all trapped in ‘ere by choice, or of our own cowardice...”

Veld exhaled, blurring his vision with smoke.

“Trapped by choice or cowardice, huh...”

There was a modicum of truth to those words. But what of Aerith and her mother? They didn’t have the means to do either. And what of Veld?

A resounding snore reminded him he was still in the mayor’s office.

For the time being, he made himself comfortable on the sofa and stretched his legs.

If the old man really wanted to make amends, then there was something he could help him with.

*

Aerith she woke to the sound of her mother’s voice. She was speaking to someone--a man, and she feared for a moment that it was Hojo.

“What do you want?” her mother demanded, holding Aerith close to her chest. It was too dark in the room to see anything, but the stranger stood by the door.

“I’m here to help,” he whispered calmly, and carefully placed a few things on the floor. “Put these on and leave. You should be able to get as far as the train station as long as you don’t draw attention to yourself.”

Her mother was shaking. Aerith stayed quiet.

“Why should I trust you?”

The man regarded them quietly before turning his back.

“I’m trapped here too.”

The door closed, but the sound of it locking did not come. Her mother cautiously inspected the items the man had left: A change of clothes and a keycard. Aerith could see for a moment the life return to her mother’s eyes as the realization sunk in.

“What did he give us, mommy?” Aerith finally asked.

Her mother wrapped her in a tight hug and wept.

“Freedom.”

Chapter Text

Cold, jagged, and warm dreams washed over Sephiroth like an ocean wave as his consciousness drifted through the lifestream, memories of betrayals and abandoned friendships. They mocked him from a place untouched even by the planet.

A voice no longer familiar to him recited poetry over training maneuvers. Another chastised him for pushing past his limit. Their laughter distorted in his ears and their hands on his shoulders evaporated to dust. In the past, these were the sort of dreams he was terrified of most, watching the people he cared about disappear before his eyes.

Now, he felt they deserved it.

What had they ever done for him? They’d disregarded the trust he placed in their hands and chose their own survival. No amount of artificial enhancement from Jenova’s cells separated their traitorous existence from the humans that now populated the planet.

And he aimed to take that privilege back.

When he opened his eyes he saw Cloud and his companions projected in the lifestream, traveling across the continent. When he blinked the image flickered to the next, like a still frame from a movie. Cloud was playing his part as the hero. The others were simply bit players to the narrative.

That Cetra however, was different.

“What is it, Mother?”

Jenova’s voice crooned from the back of head, reverberating through his entire body. Since falling into the lifestream, she spoke to him many times like this. He felt, rather than heard, the things she told him.

She wanted the girl killed.

“As you wish, Mother.”

As Sephiroth bowed his head he could feel her shifting restlessly within his body.

It felt faintly of fear.

*

Sephiroth went to see the Cetra in her dreams.

The lifestream glowed brilliantly as he searched for her, entering her consciousness as he’d done many times before with his clones. Her aura was white and clean when he found her, blinding like light at the end of a tunnel. The closer he came, the more her figure solidified within the brilliance.

Curiously she was kneeling with her hands clasped in front of her, eyes shut until he was within arm’s reach. When she looked up at him, her expression was passive. Had she been expecting him?

“Sephiroth.” She acknowledged dimly and let her hands fall to her lap.

“Cetra,” he stood, looking down on her, “Having sweet dreams?”

The girl smiled politely but her voice was careful and controlled when she replied, “I was, until you came along.”

“And here I thought you were waiting for me to show up.”

“As if.”

She stood with a huff and straightened the wrinkles out of her dress. The bangles around her wrists chiming softly as she moved. Sephiroth waited, watching her with unblinking eyes. This girl was so small and frail. Vulnerable. Yet even now he could feel his mother urging for her elimination. He pushed the urges back, asking for her patience.

“Does the planet treat you well, Cetra?”

“Just Aerith is fine,” she regarded him coldly.

“Aerith.” Her name was like honey on his tongue. Her eyes glimmered as if she hadn’t expected him to actually say it. She recovered quickly, squinting suspiciously.

“Why are you here?”

Sephiroth stared at her.

“I’m interested in you.”

Aerith's eyes fluttered, bewildered.

“I didn’t think you were one for jokes, Sephiroth.”

She turned and walked away. Sephiroth followed. Each step she took emitted a faint light from her boots that faded beneath his. They walked in silence like that for a while, Aerith’s braid swinging back and forth like a pendulum in a space with no sense of time, and no one to speak to. It reminded him of what she was doing when he first arrived.

“What does the planet tell you when you pray?”

“Don’t you hear its voice?”

“I don’t.”

A set of large floating doors appeared. Aerith stopped in front of them.

“Maybe you should try praying.”

She pushed them open and stepped inside. Sephiroth looked in. The space through the doors was much larger than it appeared from the outside, opening up to a church building with a tall ceiling and old benches lined up neatly near the walls. It was her dream, so of course a number of infinite places she wanted to visit or create from fragmented memories was possible. That was how Sephiroth himself had been dreaming for the past several years, but in none of those dreams did he ever pray once. Did she take him here expecting him to?

The girl in question was crouched over a patch of flowers, humming to them sweetly.

“When you pray and devote yourself to something,” she said without looking back, “You discover new things, you hear new things.” She inclined her head pointedly. “Maybe you’ll hear a voice that doesn’t…”

“Doesn’t what?”

She turned halfway towards him, looking anxious.

“Doesn’t… make you hurt people.”

Sephiroth’s lips tilted into a crooked smile.

He’d never devoted his life to anyone or anything before. The Shinra company was all he knew, the things he’d done was merely a way of living. And the loyalty to his friends, that wasn’t devotion either. Perhaps it could have been if they hadn’t so utterly betrayed him.

But his mother, Jenova, and her wishes for the planet, that was something he devoted himself to. Even with his physical body torn apart, his will responded to her wants and desires entirely as if they were his own.

Yet Aerith was to be in the way of that.

His boots echoed heavily on the wooden floors as he stepped forward, crouching just enough to grab her chin and force her to look at him. Her expression grew hard and defiant as he did so. Amused with her contempt, his crooked smile widened.

“Do you hate me for hurting people, Aerith?” he asked in a whisper.

“I pity you.”

“You should be afraid of me.”

Her nostrils flared. “No. You’re afraid of me .”

Sephiroth’s pulse quickened, thrilled at her show of defiance. Jenova’s voice screamed from beyond his body, but he was numb to it as he bent down closer to the girl’s face and stroked a thumb over her lips. Aerith’s eyes wavered slightly from the sensation.

“Shall we find out in the waking world?” his grip on her chin tightened. “You’d best keep praying for your friends.”

“My friends have everything they need to get through this,” she growled. “I don’t pray for them.”

“Then what do you pray for, Cetra?”

Her eyes glimmered mischievously as she smirked into his gloved hand. In those green eyes he saw the reflection of his twisted smile falter.

“You'd like to know, wouldn’t you?”

A brilliant flash of light struck him in the chest.

When Sephiroth came to, he was back in the lifestream, and Aerith was gone.

*

His mother’s cells screamed and raged in the consciousness of his mind. It hurt.

But his irritation that the Cetra would prove to be far more troublesome overlapped all other emotion. His mother was right in fearing her.

“Trust me, Mother.” he reassured, “I’ll see this through.”

Which would win? His will or the Cetra’s defiance? He wanted to find out.

Perhaps discovering that answer was something worth devoting to.

Chapter Text

It took them a number of attempts, but Cloud and the others had finally managed to corral enough chocobos for everyone to cross the marshlands, save for Red XIII who was confident he’d be able to cross on his own four paws (he seemed very proud of it too).

The chocobos were fed and equipped for the challenge but there were still a number of preparations to make before setting off. Everyone agreed that facing the Midgar Zolom after a death-escaping chase from Shinra just a few days earlier did not sound very appealing to any of them. But similarly, they only had one shot at this.

“First off,” Cloud looked around the motley crew. “Can any of you ride a chocobo?”

Only Tifa raised her hand.

“Right…”

“Oh, it shouldn’t be too bad,” Aerith said. “They practically drive themselves!”

Cloud shook his head. “That’s why it’s so complicated. If you don’t direct a chocobo it’ll go wherever it wants, if you don’t control it you’ll risk getting thrown off, not to mention the speed--”

“What Cloud means is,” Tifa interjected gently. “There’s a bit more nuance to riding a chocobo than you’d think.”

Barret scoffed. He’d been skeptical about this whole thing from the start.

“These chickens really gon’ get us across the marsh?”

“They’re our best bet. You got this?” Tifa smiled at him encouragingly.

“Euuhh... Yeah. Like drivin’ a car, right?”

Their spikey-haired leader rubbed a hand down his face.

Midgar Zolom aside, they were in desperate need of some riding lessons.

*

Tifa ran laps around the group as demonstration. She expressed a bit of nervousness before she started, but the moment she got into her chocobo’s saddle her face lit up with a glow the others had rarely ever seen before. It looked exhilarating to be in her boots, running at full speed with the wind in her hair

When she finally returned to the others she was grinning from ear to ear as they flooded her with cheers and compliments.

“It’s nothing, really!” she laughed, out of breath. “My muscle memory just kicked in.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to go that fast!” Aerith swooned, looking across the plains.

Cloud reeled it in. “Hang on, we gotta start with the basics first.”

“Right, the basics. Sooo, where do we start?”

The two more experienced riders looked between each other. Cloud gestured for Tifa to take the reins on this one. Happy to have his approval, Tifa cheerily jumped off her chocobo and retrieved some gysahl greens from her saddle. The sight of it alerted the attention of their other chocobo that had been stationed nearby as she presented the treats to the newbie riders.

“We start by getting to know your chocobo!” she declared.

Barret groaned as Aerith excitedly tugged on his arm.

*

Red XIII huffed in amusement as the group paired off for individual instruction. Cloud and Barret weren’t faring as well as the girls, the burly man was too impatient. Aerith’s eagerness to learn gave her an edge for these things.

“Their beaks are so big!” Aerith giggled as her chocobo nudged her face. “It could bite my whole head off!”

Tifa laughed nervously. “Don’t encourage it, because it will.”

“Oh, Cloud Jr., you’re gonna do great out there!”

“Cloud Jr.?”

“That’s what I decided to call him just now.”

Tifa laughed again. “Okay, sounds like you’re ready to get in that saddle.”

“Really? Yay!”

“Just watch me first, okay?”

To prepare Aerith for her first big hurdle, Tifa got on and off her chocobo a few times while explaining the movements as she did them. It was the most basic maneuver one could learn but also the most important. Aerith watched with utmost concentration before attempting it herself, but despite her outward confidence Tifa could see that she was nervous.

“You’re doing great, Aerith,” she encouraged. “Foot in the stirrup, then pull!”

“It’s just… Cloud Jr.’s a lot bigger than I thought!”

“Which means the view from up top is gonna look amazing!”

Aerith took in a deep breath. “Okay… Okay, I’m ready!”

Carefully, she placed her foot in the stirrup and positioned her hands like Tifa showed her, then she pulled and swung her legs--but by law of gravity or some bad luck, her other leg slipped on the chocobo’s hip and the shock of it all caused her grip to loosen.

Aerith fell to the grass with a shriek.

“Oh my god, Aerith! Are you okay?” Tifa hurried to her side.

Aerith got on her knees and rubbed her butt.

“OOuugh, that hurt!”

From afar the two men were looking over anxiously.

“HEEEYY! Y’all good over there!?” Barret shouted.

“Is Aerith okay?” Came Cloud next. Even Red XIII ran over to check for injuries.

Aerith waved. “Just peachy!"

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tifa hated to keep asking but she wanted to be sure.

“Been in scrapes worse than this,” Aerith beamed, “Time for round two?”

Her enthusiasm was contagious. Who was Tifa to say no? Reinvigorated, she pulled Aerith up to her feet.

“Let’s show the boys how it’s done.”

*

It took a few more tries for Aerith to get it just right, but she eventually managed it. Even Barret was taking his lessons seriously, seeing how hard their flower girl was trying.

After some practice runs around the field, Cloud and Tifa agreed the two were comfortable enough to tackle the marsh. A longer training period would’ve been preferred but they were still running on limited time after all, and the problems that lay ahead weren’t going to just wait for them. Nor would it make the Midgar Zolom any slower.

They rested for one more night on the edge of the chocobo ranch. Tomorrow their journey would continue.

*

Their team would go on to acquire more members, and they would travel long distances by other methods besides chocobos. Barret nearly wept with joy when they received their first ground moving vehicle, and they were all equally awed at the ocean life they could see from a submarine they hijacked from Shinra.

The planet was so much bigger than they imagined, and they’d experienced much happiness and pain along the way.

Now, they were resting after their trip from the Temple of Ancients. Tifa slept curled up next to Aerith when she felt her stir.

“Tifa, are you awake?”

She hummed weakly. The day had been long and difficult.

“Do you remember… after Kalm? When you were teaching me to ride a chocobo? That was the most fun I’d ever had in my life.”

Aerith kissed her forehead. Tifa wasn't sure. It was so gentle, lulling her back to sleep.

“Don’t forget me, Tifa.”