[It's the middle of the day. He should be asleep, but honestly, he's slept so much the past month that his balance is more screwed up than it has any right to be.
As he'd healed from the reason he'd been bedridden for the past month, the inopportune (but fitting...) scar of something which should have killed him reopening, almost killing him over again, he didn't transform. The instinct hadn't even come even when the full moon had. Even if it had, he figured, his body wouldn't be able to handle it.
...Probably a good thing he hadn't. That's something.
The coven, of course, had resealed the wound. And then all that remained was recovery. It was slow going, for sure. Some days were better than others, some worse, but progress had come. And as he lifts himself from his bed, today he feels ...strength, or at least a fraction of it.
That's something, too.
He gingerly makes his way to the greatsword resting against his wall. His hand closes around the handle and he hefts it, or tries to, and-
Pain. Searing. He lets go. ...Maybe in a couple of days. Sighing, he looks to his door. And he moves to it, opening it quietly, and looking across the hallway.
...He can get some coffee, at least. So he moves, carefully- uncaring that he's barefoot, uncaring that he's in his sleeping clothes still. ...Uncaring that he should probably wash before anything else. He makes his way to the kitchen, a small, stone room overwhelmed by a large hearth.
And... wings? Someone's standing there. With wings. Dissimilar to Sephiroth's, of course. They're not black.]
...
[He lingers by the doorway. But looking closer, he knows who it is. Like anyone else could have that hair.]
[ It's been a long month, and not only because of Cloud's illness, though that had been a huge contributing factor. The journey down into the Underground and all it had entailed had also taken a lot out of Zack, but it turns out it had all been worth it. The Cwyldheart has been purified, the dryads saved, and there's talk that the Cwyld's presence out in the Wilde has even lessened.
That means that Zack's worries have all shifted back onto Cloud. He's called plenty of Coven healers here over the course of the past month, and all of them had assured him that it would simply take time and rest for Cloud to recover from the pain of his lost Bond, but...
Well, Zack's never been all that patient.
Yet when he hears a voice — strained though it is — call out from behind him, Zack isn't expecting it at all. He spins around from the eggs he'd been frying up, both relieved to see Cloud on his feet and struck by how he still looks like a strong wind might topple him over. His new wings (brown, not black) twitch behind him. ]
Cloud! How are you feeling?
[ He gestures him toward the kitchen table. ]
Here, have a seat. I'll get you some breakfast.
[ He is not the best cook, but he's getting better out of necessity. ]
Zack, of course, had poked his head inside his door to see him, to talk with him, when he hadn't been working throughout the past month. Frequently, actually. Which was something he was grateful for, of course- but something that regardless had left Cloud alone more often than not. It couldn't be helped. Not when he had to work double time to cover Cloud's lack of earnings, and not when the task in the Underground was so important.
...And yeah. Maybe his social skill had dipped further following the month spent mostly by himself. So he tries to adjust.]
-uh, better. Thanks.
[As focused as he is on correcting that, he likewise moves affably enough (though tentatively) into the gestured chair at the gestured table, his eyes curious as he looks toward him.]
...Wings? They new? I- uh, hadn't noticed. ...You okay?
[Were they new? Or had he not noticed because of the multitude of things the coven's healers had given him to both handle the pain and accelerate his healing addling him? He doesn't know. And additionally, that faint confusion means he doesn't immediately refuse the offer of food.
And strangely, Or strangely for someone meant to be carnivorous, the smell of the cooking eggs doesn't disgust him.]
...And how did that... thing go? The Underground... thing?
[Please forgive him, Zack. He might not remember you coming in to let him know. He raises a hand, gingerly, to toy with his (flat) hair.]
[ It's not like Zack had expected Cloud to remember everything he told him while he was "sick" and confined to his bed. In a lot of ways, it had reminded him of when Cloud had been under the effects of mako poisoning. That's not a time he ever really wants to be taken back to, even if it wasn't really the same thing.
Seeing Cloud up and about, though, is going a long way to making sure Zack feels better about all that. And he certainly doesn't mind reiterating some of what he'd already told him. ]
They are, yeah! [ He glances back over his shoulder at the wings, still not used to when he catches the large appendages in his peripheral vision. Not to mention the extra weight on his back. He did at least pre-buy some clothes that would accommodate them, knowing this day would come, though he'll need to grab more soon. ] They showed up when I was in the Underground. As if there wasn't enough going on...
[ He places one hand on his hip and sighs, but doesn't grouse for long, turning back to the cooking food to make sure that it doesn't burn. ]
It went well. We managed to take the seeds from this dragon and plant them down there, and it cleared out the whole infection. The Underground is completely free of Cwyld now, and they're even going to share some of their secrets with us about how to stave off the infection.
[ So all in all, a successful endeavor, even if it had been rough going at times. Zack isn't going to shove all of those details onto Cloud, though, not when he's only just recovering.
A moment later, Zack slides the scrambled eggs onto plates and approaches the table with them, handing one to Cloud before settling down with his own. And it's then that he realizes for all that he's gained, Cloud has lost something. ]
Wait — what happened to your ears? [ He jabs a finger into his own hair to make his point. ]
[The retelling of Zack's experience in the Underground is something listened to both with wide eyes and something that has his mouth agape at points. It sounds... like something straight out of a fairy tale, actually.
With magical seeds and dragons, and all. And the way Zack's moving. He must have had those things a while. They're large looking. And heavy looking, and unwieldy, actually. But they don't clatter into anything when he moves. They're folded in perfectly, and despite their size, they're not even brushing the floor.
Sephiroth had taken a couple of weeks to not- No. His gaze lowers, a breath escaping him, and his gaze only rises when he hears the sound of the plate scraping the table.]
...Huh?
[His own hand moves, in an exploring fashion, to where a very curved, very insensitive, and very pierced human ear was attached. It retracts- instantly, his eyes widening all the more. Then he stands, his eyebrows furrowed, it only just occurring to him how he'd been able to slide into the offered seat with no event.]
...I guess I've changed. Didn't change at the last full moon, either.
[No shit. His brow creases, and he intakes his breath.]
Good. I hated 'em anyway.
[He moves back into the seat. And, he lifts his fork, cutting off a small triangle of egg white with the side of it. Then he stabs it, lifting it to his mouth. It's...
...Not fleshy. It's all one solid consistency, some way between squishy and solid. There's no grain to it, like muscle. Likewise, there's no rough, chewy tendons or strange, slimy parts that seem to burst in some kind of watery substance, no heavy, earthy aftertaste. And it doesn't bleed.
...It's a mediocrely cooked egg. And after so long with meat, it's fantastic. He swallows it. And when he's certain it's not going to come right back up (No reflection on Zack. Being a carnivore for so long, non-meat food items tended to.) his eyes move to Zack.]
...And you learned how to cook. This is really good.
[And.]
Did you keep any of the seeds? They could be really useful up here.
[ So Cloud hadn't even realized? The change must have happened fairly recently, or Zack would have noticed sooner, right? Then again, with Cloud curled up in bed in a dim room, his head often half under a pillow or covers, it would have been hard to see that his ears had reverted.
When Cloud stands out of his seat, Zack shifts in his own to get a look. Yeah, tail seems to be gone soon. And he hadn't turned? What does it all mean? ]
Have you heard of this kind of thing happening before? A monster changing back?
[ Cloud's mid-bite as Zack asks the question, and while he hadn't been on the edge of his seat waiting to hear the verdict, he's a little shocked when he gets a good review. The eggs can't be that good, he doesn't do anything special with them, so Cloud maybe is just being nice. Or, after a month of being sick, anything would taste good to him. Still, he didn't spit it out or make a face, so Zack's taking it as a win. He grins and nods. ]
I'll keep practicing, I guess. [ Having someone else to cook for made a big difference when it came to his motivation. That, and it saved money. ] And no, we were only given a seed per person. I'm guessing there's only so many? Sounds like there are probably other Cwyldhearts out there. Now that we know how to deal with them, we can keep working on beating back the infection.
[ It's good news. Maybe this even has something to do with Cloud changing back? Zack has no idea. He finally digs into his own food, chowing down on the eggs at a record pace. His metabolism as a monster has only increased, and while he also prefers meat these days, the eggs do provide some cheap protein. ]
[A brief shake of his head answers the question. Part of him wondered if he should check in with the coven, perhaps get examined (as awful as more pokes and more prods is, especially to him.) but honestly? He's fine. It's not like he's feeling good. He'd lost a year-long bond. Feeling anything close to how he did before it was severed was impossible without forming another one. But he's up, he's about. It's enough. ]
Last bond that got cut... I lost some things. [He doesn't want to explain what. Something which is shown only by his eyes lowering, a turn of his fork in the egg.] ...Maybe this is like that. Only this time, I lost some things that weren't me.
[Honestly? Who the fuck knew. He raises his eyes again, just in time to see Zack's grin, fortunately enough, because... yeah. He kind of needed it- thinking about those things. He turns his fork again. And he exhales, pushing it from his mind.
He listens, vaguely, to the sound of Zack attacking his eggs before he responds.]
One each.
[That's... a crock of shit if ever he heard one. Probably... it's for the best he sat that one out. He very much doubted he'd have been able to handle that one as graciously as Zack must have. He eats a little more.]
...That's... good though, right? If more seeds can be cultivated, then whatever they do'll wipe 'em out.
[And this world could be exactly what Zack had described it as, all those months ago. A second chance for him, and for Aerith. And that, obviously, is something worth working toward. He turns his fork again, before pushing away his plate.
...What's on his mind... Makes him decidedly less hungry.]
...I wanted to ask you something. About Sephiroth.
[ Is that how losing a bond works? Zack imagines that it probably differs from bond to bond, and he's almost relieved that he and Aerith hadn't bonded prior to her disappearing. That's probably the bond that Cloud's referring to, the one he lost before, and while Zack doesn't know what was lost, he's not sure he should ask. Even if it is Aerith.
Either way, he intends to keep an eye on Cloud, just to make sure that this doesn't imply something about his health or well-being. He does have two steady bonds left, one with him and one with Tifa, so there's that. Hopefully that had helped him through the past month, at least a little.
At the question, Zack nods, waiting to swallow down his current bite of eggs before he responds. ]
That's the idea, I think. If we can search out more of these Cwyldhearts and purify them, we can keep beating back the infection.
[ It provides them with some hope to grasp onto, and Zack will never say no to that. Though he's soon enough distracted by Cloud's pivot in the conversation, his brow furrowing for a moment as he stares down at the abandoned serving of eggs. Maybe Cloud will go back to them, but within a few minutes they'll have gone cold and rubbery. ]
Yeah, of course. What about him?
[ This is a shaky subject, there's no getting around that, but Zack's open in both his tone and body language. His wings aren't folded in close against his back. He doesn't want Cloud to feel like they can't talk about this or... well, anything, really. ]
Sounds like a better idea than sitting around doing nothing. Next one, sign me up. ...I screwed up not being there that time you got hurt. [...It's a month ago. Or two? It feels like forever ago.] ...And I want to help you make this place worth a damn. ...So... I want to help.
[And be less of a burden too. For now though, maybe pushing his plate a little closer to Zack (...Did free eggs count for anything given that Zack had made them? Who knew.) would suffice. When Zack answers, he instinctively curls his leg underneath him on the chair, looping his arms around his other leg- pulled close, heel on the seat.
His gaze is away, focused somewhere else. But he's fully there. And tellingly, with more than a few flicks of his eyes to Zack, he's intently gauging his reaction. ]
...You can sense him too, right? After... [His voice lowers.] Uh, ...Nibelheim.
[He doesn't exactly want to linger on the manor. Or what he can recall of what happened there. ...Ever, actually. But. In his mind, if he could sense Sephiroth because of what happened there, surely Zack would too. Right?
He's got no idea the same experiments with Zack resulted in nothing of the sort. So, something else which is surprising should come after it.]
...I still can. But even if they've removed his mirror, he's got to be here. Something's not right- I think the coven are lying to us. And if he's here, everyone else that disappeared could be, too.
[...To him, it's fact. He could sense Sephiroth, he feels a subconscious pull out, away.
But of course, he's got no idea it's less actually sensing him, and more the cells in his body acting on what they've been programmed with. Rejoining, a reunion. Feeling out, reaching, for something that isn't there.
Anyone else, he wouldn't mention it. He'd sound crazy, or worse. But he looks at him, finally, trust in his eyes.]
[ Zack inclines his head forward and shoots Cloud a knowing smile. If they're going to work to make this world better, why shouldn't they do it side-by-side? It's not a chance they were really afforded back home, and Zack won't let the opportunity pass him by now. He could think of nothing better than having a trusted friend like Cloud at his side as they face the current threat.
Even though the eggs are nudged toward him, Zack doesn't pay them much mind, more focused in on Cloud and judging his body language and the minute changes in his expression. Anxious, unsure, all of which is often the norm for him, much as Zack wishes that weren't the case.
Cloud's question isn't anything that Zack is expecting, though, and his eyes darken with a frown as he tries to make sense of it. Zack can't sense Sephiroth, not like what Cloud seems to be hinting at, but he does remember something from his single conversation with Yazoo. He'd referred to him as "brother," seeming to inherently understand something about him without asking.
When Cloud prods him, Zack straightens in his chair. ] I... think so. It's something to do with the cells you were given, right? I think what was done to us worked differently in each of us, though. I can't sense anything, not like you can.
[ Is that good or bad? He doesn't know. ]
One of his remnants seemed to be able to sense something about me, though. [ Zack lifts both of his hands, the tips of his fingers and nails now curled into talons, and looks them over. ]
... So you really think he's still here? [ Because that changes things. ]
[A small, almost split-second look of relief crosses his face then- fleeting, but nonetheless there. He... wouldn't admit it. Of course, he wouldn't- but part of him had suspected the 'we' referred to something else. Other people, the allies that Zack had made. But he doesn't mean that. Or exclusively that- so just for a second, slight relief is visible.
And he exhales. His features turn slightly pinched once more- small microexpressions denoting a good deal of strain making themselves apparent.]
Right. That... makes sense. You're not like the others.
[He flicks his gaze up. And, seeing no flicker of recognition...]
The villagers all got [Experimented on. It's... such a horrible term. Even voicing it seems impossible.] ...held... too. All of 'em, apart from Tifa. She got out first. And they got numbered. Some of them travelled around the world, looking for him 'cause it was all they knew. A lot of what I wanted, getting even with him, finishing things... it was me doing the same thing.
[But Zack wasn't like that. If anything, he went right toward Midgar. It runs through his mind, briefly, if all that was, was going for Jenova where it would have been after Nibelheim, but...
No. His memories are hazy, mired in fog, but that girl he spoke about in the bed of the pickup truck... the mother...
That was Aerith, right?]
....That guy. Yeah, same here. There was... uh, another one- his name was Kadaj- who was here before you. They're nothing to do with us.
[A slight exhale at the memory. Him. Yeah, he was batshit.]
Apparently... they were parts of Sephiroth, that splintered off in the Lifestream and... came out... later. None of 'em were human. ...Or even complete beings- just that one part of him and nothing else.
[...He tried, with Kadaj. The other one... Yazoo? No.]
They called us that 'cause they sensed parts of him in us and tried to put some sort of meaning to it. That's... all it was. We're different. We're not just some echo of him.
[That well and truly explained, he lifts his eyes up again.]
I think so. I haven't felt like this in a long time, but it feels like something's pulling me. I, uh...
[An inhale.]
...I want to find him. To prove it- 'cause I can't expect other people to take some feeling seriously. But it's gonna take a long time. I don't know where he is. So...
[ All of the villagers too? Zack hadn't had the opportunity to spend much time looking around the perfectly rebuilt Nibelheim after escaping from the bowels of the mansion, but the few townspeople he'd seen had all been unfamiliar to him. A lot could change in five years, sure, but he knows the reality of what Shinra did.
At least Tifa got out. That's one small mercy among all of the other terrible things that took place that day.
You're not like the others, Cloud insists. And maybe he's right. Zack hadn't felt anything particularly different, being around Sephiroth here. But why? Did it have to do with the type of cells he was given?
The 'remnants' have been explained to Zack before, but he doesn't mind hearing it again, because it still doesn't make much sense to him. Not complete beings? How could such a thing even exist? Then again, between Sephiroth and Jenova, a lot of rules had been broken, and Zack couldn't expect to comprehend all of it.
If Cloud's convinced Sephiroth is still here somewhere on this world and he's set on finding him, Zack's obviously going to come too. He figures that goes without saying. So at the mention of a favor, he's quick to nod, already assuming he knows what Cloud's getting at. ]
I can come with you, sure. If he's here, I want to track him down too. I may not be able to sense anything, but... I could sometimes guess at what he might say or do. [ He shrugs one shoulder and takes a sip from his glass of water. ] Though I wonder if he was taken against his will, in which case we'll just have to follow your instincts, right?
[Zack's not wrong in assuming, or figuring. But a brief moment of silence, as well as a shift, the movement of his eyes away, would indicate not.]
...Like I said, it's gonna take a while. This place was supposed to be another chance for you and Aerith, right? So you shouldn't be away from her. Ever.
[His eyes linger at the side. And perhaps, tellingly- what leaves him next is a lot.]
Can't take Tifa with me either. She won't get it- why I'm going for him, or why it's important. I tried, telling her everything, but I can't expect her to put what wound up doing to her aside. ...So, I need to nullify our bonds. All of 'em. I don't want the both of you to wind up hurt if something happens- and even if something doesn't- I don't want to test out what happens if we're not around each other.
[A breath. His fingertips have buried themselves in his opposing arm's forearm, and his body language is stiff. He can't meet Zack in the eyes.]
...And, uh... The favour. I need you to bond with her. She's a witch, you're a monster. You can cover her while I'm away.
[ Well, Cloud does have a point about Aerith. Zack's first instinct is to suggest that she come along as well, as he suspects that she'd insist on it anyway, if both he and Cloud are going. But he doesn't know what Aerith's feelings toward Sephiroth are, other than "complicated." The subject of her death is something that he's avoided, mainly because he's not sure if Aerith herself is even aware of what her future holds.
Telling her, and forcing that to hang over her head — it doesn't seem fair.
Before Zack can get a word in either way, though, Cloud comes out with his ridiculous plan. Annul all his bonds? What is he thinking? It sounds like the sort of self-sacrificial behavior that has almost become a bad habit for Cloud, and Zack pushes up from the table before Cloud's even done speaking. ]
No. [ His voice is firm, his jaw set. ] Look what losing one bond did to you. Imagine what losing all of them would do. You probably wouldn't be in any state to track him down anyway. If you're going to go out looking for him, you'll need those Bonds more than ever.
[ After getting that out in a flurry of words, Zack heaves out a sigh and crosses his arms over his chest. ]
... Aerith could come with us. She'd be doing it for you, not for him. And I don't think she'd be okay with you going alone, or with us both going without her.
[Some days after Cloud had found his feet again, he's out. He's... a little worse for wear though. He's paler than his usual light tan for the experience- and he's not exactly brimming with a combination of turnskin strength and his own any longer. But the most apparent thing, probably, is the lack of ears and tail.
A bond breaking was characterized by a loss, after all. And his losses weren't strictly internal. Still. He can't exactly feel anything about it. He hated them anyway.
But for what he does feel... It's not strength from the flowers having some kind of power because they're shaped and coloured a certain way, that's for sure. He's... never really put stock into that kind of thing. Called it superstitious bullshit and... weathered Aerith's fascination with it. But this? ...It's different.
He feels something. It's gratitude.
And it's for that reason, on a faintly sunny day, in the middle of the day, that he's visiting Aerith's house. Hopefully she's in.]
( she's tried to keep her worrying to a minimum. cloud has zack, after all, and she trusts zack, knows that he'll help where he can, that he'll keep cloud safe, that--well, that things will be okay as much as they can be, now. she's tried to support tifa where she can, focused so hard on everyone else that she hasn't really found much time for her own thoughts; they're forced into the back of her mind to be dealt with later, instead. despite knowing that he's woken, at least, she hasn't thought to go see him, figuring that he would contact her in his own time; it's maybe the one time she hasn't just immediately barged into cloud's life, into his things, started moving thoughts and feelings around into disarray.
but she misses him. it's worrisome, and it weighs on her, in private, when she doesn't feel like she has to put up such a bright exterior.
in fact, she's just considering sending more flowers to cloud's door when she hears the faint footsteps, coming down the path to the cottage. embarrassingly, or perhaps classically, she's on her hands and knees in the garden, clad in a new dress that's still pink and stained, also classically, with a bit of mud and dirt. her flowers aren't much yet--she'd made cloud the first bouquet, at her little part-time gig at the flower shop--but she's tending to them steadily, planting a few new seeds when she lifts her head and looks, suddenly, upon the head of flattened yellow hair.
for a second she just stays there, seated on her folded legs, looking at him--her mouth is already fit into a smile, but it falters; where are those ears she played with? and he's so pale, he looks... )
Cloud. ( she's coming up onto her feet immediately, trying to brush the dust off her skirt and then hurry down the little cobblestone path so that she can unlatch the gate. she meets him at it, at least, draws it open and then--sorry, cloud, she's throwing both arms around his neck, hugging him in tightly, but briefly.
oh, the tail is gone, too...
she takes a few steps back, looks him over for a moment, and then beams a smile up at him. )
Guess I'll have to play with your normal ears now, huh? ( gently. ) Are you okay? Do you want a glass of water? You should drink a glass of water.
( and she should really wash her hands--she takes them and hides them behind her back, at least, out of sight and maybe out of mind. )
[Along with his ears and tail, other things, more useful things- like his enhanced sense of scent had up and vanished too. So it's slightly surprising to see Aerith suddenly appear from where she'd allocated space for a flowerpatch, behind something else green, and ...well, leafy enough to have obscured her as she'd crouched.
He says nothing though, not when he should warn her against running, not when he should voice his concern that dress and all the soil on it is pressed up against him... and not when he should say something flippant when she mentions his (decidedly non-canine) ears.
Instead, he brings his arms around her. Perhaps a little too long, because he can distinctly feel her pulling away. ...Shit. Well, that's awkward. He loosens his hold, immediately at that, and exhales faintly, bringing a hand to rest on the back of his neck- his eyes turning to her fence.]
...Yeah.
[It's a lie. If anything, Zack had been more than keen to make sure he ate, and he drank. Honestly, it was like he'd had two days worth of food in one sitting.]
That sounds good. But, uh-
[He brings his eyes back.]
I came to say thanks. For what you left. It, uh- worked. Maybe. ...Didn't hurt, anyway. And I wanted to ask you something. You got time, yeah?
( it's not like he's really different: in fact, funnily enough, the way that cloud awkwardly averts his gaze and seems to struggle with his words is much more reminiscent of the cloud she left behind, at the edge of a path that could break them off in so many different directions. stubborn, quiet, uncertain--he's not like the cloud that met her, when she first arrived here, who was a bit more sure-footed, with a bit more confidence. is that how hard this has been on him? she smiles, when his gaze returns to her, but she's uncertain of it all herself. )
You don't have to thank me for something like that. I'm glad they worked.
( cloud certainly doesn't believe in all that like she does: but the fact that he doesn't make fun of her for it, or even scoff about it, must mean that it really did do something, despite his doubts. she won't lean onto it any more than he does. )
But yeah, I've got time. Plenty of it! Do you mind if we go inside? I'll want to wash my hands, and you should sit down.
( she brings her hands back, wiggling her fingers playfully in the air between them to indicate--but then, despite them, she carefully loops her arm in to the crook of one of cloud's, pinning herself at his side to walk with him together up the path to the cottage door. it's not that she necessarily thinks he needs the assistance, but it makes her feel better to be next to him, and to match her steps with his. )
[He offers no resistance in body or voice when she loops her arm around his. Not so long ago, he'd have become rigid, probably. He'd never have (violently) severed it, ever- but... a while ago, longer than when he first envisioned, he'd have jerked his arm right back. Now? Not the case.
It feels... kind of good to listen to a voice. To feel sunlight, to feel faint warmth from a vaguely dirt-crusted arm, to look down and see her (perhaps childishly but certainly endearingly) mirroring every one of his steps. He does sever it though. Carefully- just enough to open the door for her to step through into her home first.
And as the warm weight of sunlight on his back ceases, as he's through, and after his eyes have adjusted... the questions start. By priority, mostly.]
Tifa's okay, yeah? Nothing's happened with her, since... [Well.] we got bonded? ...And that grove, in the woods? Has anything changed?
( there's a teasing, gentle bow of her head when he opens the door for her. privately, she thinks what a gentleman~, but it's not the time to tease him--so she keeps quiet, and simply steps inside so that she can bend to unbuckle her boots and then leave them on the mat by the door. tifa will not be pleased if she tracks in more mud, after all, though it does leave her both shorter--and barefoot--as she moves into the kitchen ahead of him.
there's a table just outside of it, perfect for cloud to sit at, as she takes her hands to the sink to start to rinse them, quiet as she lathers them up with soap. it's a bit of an excuse, while she tries to pick her words carefully. has tifa been okay? well, yes--and no. but she's not sure if that's something she should say; tifa should be the one to talk about it, not her. )
Tifa is safe, nothing's happened like before. ( she dabs her hands off on a towel, and then takes a breath, steeling her face into a smile as she turns to look at cloud again. ) She's a little shaken up about you, though...I think she's just been worried.
( we all have. ) Maybe when you're feeling a bit better... It would be good to have some time together, just the two of you.
( it's hard to keep the discomfort out of her gaze, so she drops it. ) Ah, and as for the seeds, you mean? I'm going to check on them with the next phase of the moon. Er, I was going to, anyway, if that's okay. I'll need to take something warm to sleep in, but... ( well, she hadn't really planned that far ahead yet. typical. ) Cloud? Will you close your eyes for a second?
[Spoken after, in turn, he's taken his boots off (with a lot less grace than Aerith, actually. For him, its just a matter of using alternating feet to peel them off rather than unbuckling or untying, and they stay where they are.) and after he's followed her to the boundary of that small little kitchen.
Rather than invade that tiny room and encroach on her space, he lingers by the aforementioned table, choosing to lean against the wall rather than actually sit. But he does keep his gaze on her as she answers, perhaps watching the mundane act of her washing and drying her hands a little too closely.
It's strange. Everything Aerith seemed to do seemed so delicate, when her personality was anything but. He's... vaguely fascinated by it, in the strangest sense. Yet still. He should expand on that apology.]
...I've been through bonds ending before. Bonds that- [Meant everything. Presences that were still those he most valued above any other. Important feelings, the most important person, he swore to himself he'd never forget. The reason for many things, including that grove.]
... [Try again.]
Look. That one, Sephiroth, I-
[Come on.] - It was a long time. Him going back's a good thing, if he remembers any of this, ...somewhere, at some point in time, some version of us isn't gonna go through what's happened to us. But... I think with this magic, the longer it's active, the worse it is when it ends. So I'm sorry, for putting the both of you through that. Really sorry.
[And time with Tifa. He nods, yet perhaps his reservation is showing in his face. It's... not like he doesn't give a shit. It's the opposite, entirely.] Yeah, maybe.
[The grove though.] I'll go with you. Maybe something's happened... and even if it hasn't-
[He wants to see. Desperately. Just once before- The request confuses him. So his expression turns from something thoughtful, seemingly vulnerable, into one nothing shy of quizzical.]
You don't have to be sorry. No one wants you to be sorry.
( she won't act like it isn't hard to hear: but she does try to temper down her reaction, just enough. the sound of his name makes her shoulders go stiff, but she understands it, in a way--just as she could understand how much tifa couldn't understand, couldn't forgive, couldn't do anything now. so there's a soft nod, but she's finding it hard to say anything reassuring. she cares for cloud, more than she may want to say, but--well, she nods again and leaves it there. he's right: maybe somewhere, some version, in some universe...
the fact that he won't close his eyes, though, she can at least focus on that. it makes her smile despite herself, a playfully scoffing breath as she moves to close some of the distance between them. fine, he can have it his way--but she's not going to shy away from it, then, reaching with clean hands to the part of this particular dress that ties in at the back of her waist, undoing the bow to loosen the material, and then she's reaching for the collar to start to tug it right off over her head, in front of him.
she has on a plain cotton slip underneath, of course, so it's not revealing anything--except maybe some embarrassment, for him, but she's always enjoyed that a little; she bundles up the dirty dress in her arms and smiles up at him, her hair a little tousled from the effort. )
Do you want to meet there? ( at the grove. she's just carrying on like nothing happened. ) Or do you want to come pick me up and go together? You don't have to stay there all night, especially not when you're... Not when it's better for you to be in a bed, getting rest.
[See now, he expected something like getting water flicked at him for being so sentimental, or... something else which was weird and unexpected and that'd only be ...vaguely okay if Aerith did it, but that?
That?!
He doesn't know where to look. When she approaches and she undoes the ties at the back of it, his expression is one of curiosity, but as soon as she lifts it over her head, he straight-up retreats- or tries to, his back thudding against the wall and his head pointing... above her height, and to the side.
And yes. Slip or not, his cheeks are burning. And even pointed away, his eyes close. As hard as he can close them. Some years have been taken off his life, he's almost certain.]
Uh- Yeah. I'll pick you-
[His eyes open. And... She's still only wearing that thin piece of fabric. They shut again.]
... I'll come get you. And ...it's fine. It healed. I'm...
( there's really nowhere for cloud to escape to: that's not really by her design, given that he's backed himself into this proverbial corner himself, but there is some amusement to it, to the way that his eyes squeeze shut and then open, as if he's willing himself to believe it some kind of dream, or maybe even nightmare. she doesn't force him to look: but she does, eventually, take a step forward, gently encouraging his arms up because she's passing over the bundle of her dirty dress whether he's ready for it or not. )
You're not good, and I'm not going to stop worrying. I'll let you come, but I'm going to take you home after an hour or two.
( or she'll ask zack to come get him--but either way, she's not going to let him push himself, not going to let him stay out there all night. )
Come sit down. Let me get you that water.
( that's why she's passed off the dress to him, after all: he can put it somewhere if he wants, or hold it, but she's seemingly unconcerned with trailing the kitchen in her slip, standing up on bare toes to pry a glass from the cabinet and bring it down. with water and ice put into it, she turns back around, ready to come to the table and set it down for him--and he better be sitting, or else. )
You're in no state to be sleeping outside, you know.
[Suddenly that dress? In his arms? He's... so confused, honestly, and still more than slightly mortified and... honestly, Aerith. Please. He sighs, just faintly, before he follows her into the kitchen, just to dump the rolled up, wrinkled mass of ...actually kind of soft fabric down onto the nearest available surface. There's a click of his tongue and he walks back out.
...And yeah, he takes a seat. When she comes over...]
I ain't gonna argue with you. But really. I'm okay now. It's not like I'd be able to get past Zack if I wasn't.
[His hand moves, and it seems, just for a moment, like he was considering covering Aerith's smaller, far more slender, far more elegant one with it. ...But he reconsiders, instead curling it on the table.]
...Besides. If what we did last time worked? ...I want to see it. Gotta admit, it's all I've been thinking about.
( ideally, if cloud had actually listened and shut his eyes for a bit of privacy, she could have gone to dump the dress into the laundry and tug on something else cleaner--there are some of her clothes, and tifa's, out on the drying rack past the kitchen, but given that he's chosen to be stubborn, she's choosing to be stubborn, too. at least he's sitting at the table, which is a good step, though he looks uncomfortable, and her gaze falls on the way his hand twitches, fingers curling back in like they think better of something.
she looks from it, to him, and then shakes her head a little. sure, she trusts zack, trusts him so much that she's stayed purposefully out of both of their ways, during all the healing time, but--zack and cloud can be similar in the way that they push themselves past points they don't even realize they have. then again, she's like that too, isn't she? )
I hope it did. ( there's a small smile, but it's obvious she's a little uncertain--she wrings it out, though, and continues on a little brighter. ) If it didn't, though, I'll try again. I really do think that we got it right, though, so...
( she reaches across the table, and clasps both of her hands down on top of cloud's, giving it a firm squeeze. )
If it works, then what do we do? They'll just stay blooming like that, right? Will they ever grow more?
[It's a lesson that's been learned. When Aerith suggests something bizarre next time, he's doing it without asking any questions. If anything, so something more bizarre doesn't happen immediately afterward. (...And with this newfound lesson comes an opportunity for Aerith to use it to mess with him in the future, possibly.)
Regardless. Her question, as well as her hands on his, causes him to look up, his gaze moving to the side. ...He should brush it off. Because... well, it's sentimental. Personal, too. But... For everything she's doing, everything she's done, she deserves to know.]
...I don't know what's going to happen.
But the guy that... uh, owned the shack that was there. I knew him. ...He was important to me. Still is. And what I gave you was important to him. They... came from the world he came from. ...And he worked on 'em for months. It never worked out, but it never stopped him. He just used to toss the flowers as soon as they bloomed into this lake nearby, picked new seeds out of the dirt, and tried again.
[He's staring into the distance now. His gaze lowers to his hands, and the small ones over the top. Aerith's wrists are so small compared to his own.]
...He told me, in his world, he gave up his right to exist. That he didn't just die there, that what he did there, meant he was never born. So... when he went back, he stopped existing again.
...And... I guess I'm the only person that knows he existed now. So I wanted to finish it. Then, that way- anyone that saw it would know he did that. ...Even if they didn't know who. Then, I guess, more people would've known him, because that kind of thing... [He shakes his head.] ...It was him.
[...It's sentimental. Stupid, even. But to him, it seems nothing but.]
( she's quiet, as she listens: this is another moment where she just seems to know, intuitively, that it's not the time to press, or even try to pull. the words come tumbling out of cloud's mouth on their own, in his own time, and she has all the time in the world, now, to listen to them. her gaze moves to the table, at first, but then it stays on cloud's face, instead: she wants to know what she can read of his emotions there, wants to see how they shape the words, and the story, into something deeper, something else.
careful, her thumbs brush against the back of his hand, steady, encouraging.
already she's getting an idea for what to do. oh, she knows that cloud told her that if they all bloom at the same time, then they'll grant wishes, but she doesn't care about that part. cloud can have them, if he wants them; but it's not about that for him, either. it's about this person, so important to him, and about making sure someone remembered him. making sure that he left a mark, somewhere. so-- )
I think I have something that we could do, with the flowers. A few things, anyway, if they'll last long enough. I'll show you when I'm done.
( with a small smile, tentative, her gaze still on cloud's face. )
But if we did it right... I think that maybe, each seed will sprout, in order, and then bloom together, on the full moon. I'm just not sure if we got the order right. ( and then, softer: ) But I promise I won't give up, okay? I'll make it work for you.
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✰ zack;
As he'd healed from the reason he'd been bedridden for the past month, the inopportune (but fitting...) scar of something which should have killed him reopening, almost killing him over again, he didn't transform. The instinct hadn't even come even when the full moon had. Even if it had, he figured, his body wouldn't be able to handle it.
...Probably a good thing he hadn't.
That's something.
The coven, of course, had resealed the wound. And then all that remained was recovery. It was slow going, for sure. Some days were better than others, some worse, but progress had come. And as he lifts himself from his bed, today he feels ...strength, or at least a fraction of it.
That's something, too.
He gingerly makes his way to the greatsword resting against his wall. His hand closes around the handle and he hefts it, or tries to, and-
Pain.
Searing.
He lets go.
...Maybe in a couple of days. Sighing, he looks to his door. And he moves to it, opening it quietly, and looking across the hallway.
...He can get some coffee, at least.
So he moves, carefully- uncaring that he's barefoot, uncaring that he's in his sleeping clothes still. ...Uncaring that he should probably wash before anything else. He makes his way to the kitchen, a small, stone room overwhelmed by a large hearth.
And... wings?
Someone's standing there. With wings. Dissimilar to Sephiroth's, of course. They're not black.]
...
[He lingers by the doorway. But looking closer, he knows who it is. Like anyone else could have that hair.]
Zack?
[His voice cracks through lack of use.]
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That means that Zack's worries have all shifted back onto Cloud. He's called plenty of Coven healers here over the course of the past month, and all of them had assured him that it would simply take time and rest for Cloud to recover from the pain of his lost Bond, but...
Well, Zack's never been all that patient.
Yet when he hears a voice — strained though it is — call out from behind him, Zack isn't expecting it at all. He spins around from the eggs he'd been frying up, both relieved to see Cloud on his feet and struck by how he still looks like a strong wind might topple him over. His new wings (brown, not black) twitch behind him. ]
Cloud! How are you feeling?
[ He gestures him toward the kitchen table. ]
Here, have a seat. I'll get you some breakfast.
[ He is not the best cook, but he's getting better out of necessity. ]
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[Wait, that sounds a little... brusque?]
Zack, of course, had poked his head inside his door to see him, to talk with him, when he hadn't been working throughout the past month. Frequently, actually. Which was something he was grateful for, of course- but something that regardless had left Cloud alone more often than not. It couldn't be helped. Not when he had to work double time to cover Cloud's lack of earnings, and not when the task in the Underground was so important.
...And yeah. Maybe his social skill had dipped further following the month spent mostly by himself. So he tries to adjust.]
-uh, better. Thanks.
[As focused as he is on correcting that, he likewise moves affably enough (though tentatively) into the gestured chair at the gestured table, his eyes curious as he looks toward him.]
...Wings? They new? I- uh, hadn't noticed. ...You okay?
[Were they new? Or had he not noticed because of the multitude of things the coven's healers had given him to both handle the pain and accelerate his healing addling him? He doesn't know. And additionally, that faint confusion means he doesn't immediately refuse the offer of food.
And strangely, Or strangely for someone meant to be carnivorous, the smell of the cooking eggs doesn't disgust him.]
...And how did that... thing go? The Underground... thing?
[Please forgive him, Zack. He might not remember you coming in to let him know. He raises a hand, gingerly, to toy with his (flat) hair.]
You've been, right?
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Seeing Cloud up and about, though, is going a long way to making sure Zack feels better about all that. And he certainly doesn't mind reiterating some of what he'd already told him. ]
They are, yeah! [ He glances back over his shoulder at the wings, still not used to when he catches the large appendages in his peripheral vision. Not to mention the extra weight on his back. He did at least pre-buy some clothes that would accommodate them, knowing this day would come, though he'll need to grab more soon. ] They showed up when I was in the Underground. As if there wasn't enough going on...
[ He places one hand on his hip and sighs, but doesn't grouse for long, turning back to the cooking food to make sure that it doesn't burn. ]
It went well. We managed to take the seeds from this dragon and plant them down there, and it cleared out the whole infection. The Underground is completely free of Cwyld now, and they're even going to share some of their secrets with us about how to stave off the infection.
[ So all in all, a successful endeavor, even if it had been rough going at times. Zack isn't going to shove all of those details onto Cloud, though, not when he's only just recovering.
A moment later, Zack slides the scrambled eggs onto plates and approaches the table with them, handing one to Cloud before settling down with his own. And it's then that he realizes for all that he's gained, Cloud has lost something. ]
Wait — what happened to your ears? [ He jabs a finger into his own hair to make his point. ]
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With magical seeds and dragons, and all. And the way Zack's moving. He must have had those things a while. They're large looking. And heavy looking, and unwieldy, actually. But they don't clatter into anything when he moves. They're folded in perfectly, and despite their size, they're not even brushing the floor.
Sephiroth had taken a couple of weeks to not-
No. His gaze lowers, a breath escaping him, and his gaze only rises when he hears the sound of the plate scraping the table.]
...Huh?
[His own hand moves, in an exploring fashion, to where a very curved, very insensitive, and very pierced human ear was attached. It retracts- instantly, his eyes widening all the more. Then he stands, his eyebrows furrowed, it only just occurring to him how he'd been able to slide into the offered seat with no event.]
...I guess I've changed. Didn't change at the last full moon, either.
[No shit. His brow creases, and he intakes his breath.]
Good. I hated 'em anyway.
[He moves back into the seat. And, he lifts his fork, cutting off a small triangle of egg white with the side of it. Then he stabs it, lifting it to his mouth. It's...
...Not fleshy. It's all one solid consistency, some way between squishy and solid. There's no grain to it, like muscle. Likewise, there's no rough, chewy tendons or strange, slimy parts that seem to burst in some kind of watery substance, no heavy, earthy aftertaste. And it doesn't bleed.
...It's a mediocrely cooked egg. And after so long with meat, it's fantastic. He swallows it. And when he's certain it's not going to come right back up (No reflection on Zack. Being a carnivore for so long, non-meat food items tended to.) his eyes move to Zack.]
...And you learned how to cook. This is really good.
[And.]
Did you keep any of the seeds? They could be really useful up here.
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When Cloud stands out of his seat, Zack shifts in his own to get a look. Yeah, tail seems to be gone soon. And he hadn't turned? What does it all mean? ]
Have you heard of this kind of thing happening before? A monster changing back?
[ Cloud's mid-bite as Zack asks the question, and while he hadn't been on the edge of his seat waiting to hear the verdict, he's a little shocked when he gets a good review. The eggs can't be that good, he doesn't do anything special with them, so Cloud maybe is just being nice. Or, after a month of being sick, anything would taste good to him. Still, he didn't spit it out or make a face, so Zack's taking it as a win. He grins and nods. ]
I'll keep practicing, I guess. [ Having someone else to cook for made a big difference when it came to his motivation. That, and it saved money. ] And no, we were only given a seed per person. I'm guessing there's only so many? Sounds like there are probably other Cwyldhearts out there. Now that we know how to deal with them, we can keep working on beating back the infection.
[ It's good news. Maybe this even has something to do with Cloud changing back? Zack has no idea. He finally digs into his own food, chowing down on the eggs at a record pace. His metabolism as a monster has only increased, and while he also prefers meat these days, the eggs do provide some cheap protein. ]
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Last bond that got cut... I lost some things. [He doesn't want to explain what. Something which is shown only by his eyes lowering, a turn of his fork in the egg.] ...Maybe this is like that. Only this time, I lost some things that weren't me.
[Honestly? Who the fuck knew. He raises his eyes again, just in time to see Zack's grin, fortunately enough, because... yeah. He kind of needed it- thinking about those things. He turns his fork again. And he exhales, pushing it from his mind.
He listens, vaguely, to the sound of Zack attacking his eggs before he responds.]
One each.
[That's... a crock of shit if ever he heard one. Probably... it's for the best he sat that one out. He very much doubted he'd have been able to handle that one as graciously as Zack must have. He eats a little more.]
...That's... good though, right? If more seeds can be cultivated, then whatever they do'll wipe 'em out.
[And this world could be exactly what Zack had described it as, all those months ago. A second chance for him, and for Aerith. And that, obviously, is something worth working toward. He turns his fork again, before pushing away his plate.
...What's on his mind...
Makes him decidedly less hungry.]
...I wanted to ask you something. About Sephiroth.
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Either way, he intends to keep an eye on Cloud, just to make sure that this doesn't imply something about his health or well-being. He does have two steady bonds left, one with him and one with Tifa, so there's that. Hopefully that had helped him through the past month, at least a little.
At the question, Zack nods, waiting to swallow down his current bite of eggs before he responds. ]
That's the idea, I think. If we can search out more of these Cwyldhearts and purify them, we can keep beating back the infection.
[ It provides them with some hope to grasp onto, and Zack will never say no to that. Though he's soon enough distracted by Cloud's pivot in the conversation, his brow furrowing for a moment as he stares down at the abandoned serving of eggs. Maybe Cloud will go back to them, but within a few minutes they'll have gone cold and rubbery. ]
Yeah, of course. What about him?
[ This is a shaky subject, there's no getting around that, but Zack's open in both his tone and body language. His wings aren't folded in close against his back. He doesn't want Cloud to feel like they can't talk about this or... well, anything, really. ]
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[And be less of a burden too. For now though, maybe pushing his plate a little closer to Zack (...Did free eggs count for anything given that Zack had made them? Who knew.) would suffice. When Zack answers, he instinctively curls his leg underneath him on the chair, looping his arms around his other leg- pulled close, heel on the seat.
His gaze is away, focused somewhere else. But he's fully there. And tellingly, with more than a few flicks of his eyes to Zack, he's intently gauging his reaction. ]
...You can sense him too, right? After...
[His voice lowers.] Uh, ...Nibelheim.
[He doesn't exactly want to linger on the manor. Or what he can recall of what happened there. ...Ever, actually. But. In his mind, if he could sense Sephiroth because of what happened there, surely Zack would too.
Right?
He's got no idea the same experiments with Zack resulted in nothing of the sort. So, something else which is surprising should come after it.]
...I still can. But even if they've removed his mirror, he's got to be here. Something's not right- I think the coven are lying to us. And if he's here, everyone else that disappeared could be, too.
[...To him, it's fact.
He could sense Sephiroth, he feels a subconscious pull out, away.
But of course, he's got no idea it's less actually sensing him, and more the cells in his body acting on what they've been programmed with. Rejoining, a reunion. Feeling out, reaching, for something that isn't there.
Anyone else, he wouldn't mention it. He'd sound crazy, or worse.
But he looks at him, finally, trust in his eyes.]
...You...
You get it, right?
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[ Zack inclines his head forward and shoots Cloud a knowing smile. If they're going to work to make this world better, why shouldn't they do it side-by-side? It's not a chance they were really afforded back home, and Zack won't let the opportunity pass him by now. He could think of nothing better than having a trusted friend like Cloud at his side as they face the current threat.
Even though the eggs are nudged toward him, Zack doesn't pay them much mind, more focused in on Cloud and judging his body language and the minute changes in his expression. Anxious, unsure, all of which is often the norm for him, much as Zack wishes that weren't the case.
Cloud's question isn't anything that Zack is expecting, though, and his eyes darken with a frown as he tries to make sense of it. Zack can't sense Sephiroth, not like what Cloud seems to be hinting at, but he does remember something from his single conversation with Yazoo. He'd referred to him as "brother," seeming to inherently understand something about him without asking.
When Cloud prods him, Zack straightens in his chair. ] I... think so. It's something to do with the cells you were given, right? I think what was done to us worked differently in each of us, though. I can't sense anything, not like you can.
[ Is that good or bad? He doesn't know. ]
One of his remnants seemed to be able to sense something about me, though. [ Zack lifts both of his hands, the tips of his fingers and nails now curled into talons, and looks them over. ]
... So you really think he's still here? [ Because that changes things. ]
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[A small, almost split-second look of relief crosses his face then- fleeting, but nonetheless there. He... wouldn't admit it. Of course, he wouldn't- but part of him had suspected the 'we' referred to something else. Other people, the allies that Zack had made. But he doesn't mean that. Or exclusively that- so just for a second, slight relief is visible.
And he exhales. His features turn slightly pinched once more- small microexpressions denoting a good deal of strain making themselves apparent.]
Right. That... makes sense. You're not like the others.
[He flicks his gaze up. And, seeing no flicker of recognition...]
The villagers all got [Experimented on. It's... such a horrible term. Even voicing it seems impossible.] ...held... too. All of 'em, apart from Tifa. She got out first. And they got numbered. Some of them travelled around the world, looking for him 'cause it was all they knew. A lot of what I wanted, getting even with him, finishing things... it was me doing the same thing.
[But Zack wasn't like that. If anything, he went right toward Midgar.
It runs through his mind, briefly, if all that was, was going for Jenova where it would have been after Nibelheim, but...
No. His memories are hazy, mired in fog, but that girl he spoke about in the bed of the pickup truck... the mother...
That was Aerith, right?]
....That guy. Yeah, same here. There was... uh, another one- his name was Kadaj- who was here before you. They're nothing to do with us.
[A slight exhale at the memory. Him. Yeah, he was batshit.]
Apparently... they were parts of Sephiroth, that splintered off in the Lifestream and... came out... later. None of 'em were human. ...Or even complete beings- just that one part of him and nothing else.
[...He tried, with Kadaj. The other one... Yazoo? No.]
They called us that 'cause they sensed parts of him in us and tried to put some sort of meaning to it. That's... all it was. We're different. We're not just some echo of him.
[That well and truly explained, he lifts his eyes up again.]
I think so. I haven't felt like this in a long time, but it feels like something's pulling me. I, uh...
[An inhale.]
...I want to find him. To prove it- 'cause I can't expect other people to take some feeling seriously. But it's gonna take a long time. I don't know where he is. So...
[Another inhale?]
...I need a favour.
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At least Tifa got out. That's one small mercy among all of the other terrible things that took place that day.
You're not like the others, Cloud insists. And maybe he's right. Zack hadn't felt anything particularly different, being around Sephiroth here. But why? Did it have to do with the type of cells he was given?
The 'remnants' have been explained to Zack before, but he doesn't mind hearing it again, because it still doesn't make much sense to him. Not complete beings? How could such a thing even exist? Then again, between Sephiroth and Jenova, a lot of rules had been broken, and Zack couldn't expect to comprehend all of it.
If Cloud's convinced Sephiroth is still here somewhere on this world and he's set on finding him, Zack's obviously going to come too. He figures that goes without saying. So at the mention of a favor, he's quick to nod, already assuming he knows what Cloud's getting at. ]
I can come with you, sure. If he's here, I want to track him down too. I may not be able to sense anything, but... I could sometimes guess at what he might say or do. [ He shrugs one shoulder and takes a sip from his glass of water. ] Though I wonder if he was taken against his will, in which case we'll just have to follow your instincts, right?
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But a brief moment of silence, as well as a shift, the movement of his eyes away, would indicate not.]
...Like I said, it's gonna take a while. This place was supposed to be another chance for you and Aerith, right? So you shouldn't be away from her. Ever.
[His eyes linger at the side. And perhaps, tellingly- what leaves him next is a lot.]
Can't take Tifa with me either. She won't get it- why I'm going for him, or why it's important. I tried, telling her everything, but I can't expect her to put what wound up doing to her aside. ...So, I need to nullify our bonds. All of 'em. I don't want the both of you to wind up hurt if something happens- and even if something doesn't- I don't want to test out what happens if we're not around each other.
[A breath. His fingertips have buried themselves in his opposing arm's forearm, and his body language is stiff. He can't meet Zack in the eyes.]
...And, uh...
The favour. I need you to bond with her. She's a witch, you're a monster. You can cover her while I'm away.
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Telling her, and forcing that to hang over her head — it doesn't seem fair.
Before Zack can get a word in either way, though, Cloud comes out with his ridiculous plan. Annul all his bonds? What is he thinking? It sounds like the sort of self-sacrificial behavior that has almost become a bad habit for Cloud, and Zack pushes up from the table before Cloud's even done speaking. ]
No. [ His voice is firm, his jaw set. ] Look what losing one bond did to you. Imagine what losing all of them would do. You probably wouldn't be in any state to track him down anyway. If you're going to go out looking for him, you'll need those Bonds more than ever.
[ After getting that out in a flurry of words, Zack heaves out a sigh and crosses his arms over his chest. ]
... Aerith could come with us. She'd be doing it for you, not for him. And I don't think she'd be okay with you going alone, or with us both going without her.
[ So there. ]
✰ aerith;
A bond breaking was characterized by a loss, after all. And his losses weren't strictly internal. Still. He can't exactly feel anything about it. He hated them anyway.
But for what he does feel...
It's not strength from the flowers having some kind of power because they're shaped and coloured a certain way, that's for sure. He's... never really put stock into that kind of thing. Called it superstitious bullshit and... weathered Aerith's fascination with it. But this? ...It's different.
He feels something. It's gratitude.
And it's for that reason, on a faintly sunny day, in the middle of the day, that he's visiting Aerith's house. Hopefully she's in.]
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but she misses him. it's worrisome, and it weighs on her, in private, when she doesn't feel like she has to put up such a bright exterior.
in fact, she's just considering sending more flowers to cloud's door when she hears the faint footsteps, coming down the path to the cottage. embarrassingly, or perhaps classically, she's on her hands and knees in the garden, clad in a new dress that's still pink and stained, also classically, with a bit of mud and dirt. her flowers aren't much yet--she'd made cloud the first bouquet, at her little part-time gig at the flower shop--but she's tending to them steadily, planting a few new seeds when she lifts her head and looks, suddenly, upon the head of flattened yellow hair.
for a second she just stays there, seated on her folded legs, looking at him--her mouth is already fit into a smile, but it falters; where are those ears she played with? and he's so pale, he looks... )
Cloud. ( she's coming up onto her feet immediately, trying to brush the dust off her skirt and then hurry down the little cobblestone path so that she can unlatch the gate. she meets him at it, at least, draws it open and then--sorry, cloud, she's throwing both arms around his neck, hugging him in tightly, but briefly.
oh, the tail is gone, too...
she takes a few steps back, looks him over for a moment, and then beams a smile up at him. )
Guess I'll have to play with your normal ears now, huh? ( gently. ) Are you okay? Do you want a glass of water? You should drink a glass of water.
( and she should really wash her hands--she takes them and hides them behind her back, at least, out of sight and maybe out of mind. )
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He says nothing though, not when he should warn her against running, not when he should voice his concern that dress and all the soil on it is pressed up against him... and not when he should say something flippant when she mentions his (decidedly non-canine) ears.
Instead, he brings his arms around her. Perhaps a little too long, because he can distinctly feel her pulling away. ...Shit. Well, that's awkward. He loosens his hold, immediately at that, and exhales faintly, bringing a hand to rest on the back of his neck- his eyes turning to her fence.]
...Yeah.
[It's a lie. If anything, Zack had been more than keen to make sure he ate, and he drank. Honestly, it was like he'd had two days worth of food in one sitting.]
That sounds good. But, uh-
[He brings his eyes back.]
I came to say thanks. For what you left. It, uh- worked. Maybe. ...Didn't hurt, anyway. And I wanted to ask you something. You got time, yeah?
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You don't have to thank me for something like that. I'm glad they worked.
( cloud certainly doesn't believe in all that like she does: but the fact that he doesn't make fun of her for it, or even scoff about it, must mean that it really did do something, despite his doubts. she won't lean onto it any more than he does. )
But yeah, I've got time. Plenty of it! Do you mind if we go inside? I'll want to wash my hands, and you should sit down.
( she brings her hands back, wiggling her fingers playfully in the air between them to indicate--but then, despite them, she carefully loops her arm in to the crook of one of cloud's, pinning herself at his side to walk with him together up the path to the cottage door. it's not that she necessarily thinks he needs the assistance, but it makes her feel better to be next to him, and to match her steps with his. )
What sort of a question is it?
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[He offers no resistance in body or voice when she loops her arm around his. Not so long ago, he'd have become rigid, probably. He'd never have (violently) severed it, ever- but... a while ago, longer than when he first envisioned, he'd have jerked his arm right back. Now? Not the case.
It feels... kind of good to listen to a voice. To feel sunlight, to feel faint warmth from a vaguely dirt-crusted arm, to look down and see her (perhaps childishly but certainly endearingly) mirroring every one of his steps. He does sever it though. Carefully- just enough to open the door for her to step through into her home first.
And as the warm weight of sunlight on his back ceases, as he's through, and after his eyes have adjusted... the questions start. By priority, mostly.]
Tifa's okay, yeah? Nothing's happened with her, since... [Well.] we got bonded? ...And that grove, in the woods? Has anything changed?
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there's a table just outside of it, perfect for cloud to sit at, as she takes her hands to the sink to start to rinse them, quiet as she lathers them up with soap. it's a bit of an excuse, while she tries to pick her words carefully. has tifa been okay? well, yes--and no. but she's not sure if that's something she should say; tifa should be the one to talk about it, not her. )
Tifa is safe, nothing's happened like before. ( she dabs her hands off on a towel, and then takes a breath, steeling her face into a smile as she turns to look at cloud again. ) She's a little shaken up about you, though...I think she's just been worried.
( we all have. ) Maybe when you're feeling a bit better... It would be good to have some time together, just the two of you.
( it's hard to keep the discomfort out of her gaze, so she drops it. ) Ah, and as for the seeds, you mean? I'm going to check on them with the next phase of the moon. Er, I was going to, anyway, if that's okay. I'll need to take something warm to sleep in, but... ( well, she hadn't really planned that far ahead yet. typical. ) Cloud? Will you close your eyes for a second?
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[Spoken after, in turn, he's taken his boots off (with a lot less grace than Aerith, actually. For him, its just a matter of using alternating feet to peel them off rather than unbuckling or untying, and they stay where they are.) and after he's followed her to the boundary of that small little kitchen.
Rather than invade that tiny room and encroach on her space, he lingers by the aforementioned table, choosing to lean against the wall rather than actually sit. But he does keep his gaze on her as she answers, perhaps watching the mundane act of her washing and drying her hands a little too closely.
It's strange. Everything Aerith seemed to do seemed so delicate, when her personality was anything but. He's... vaguely fascinated by it, in the strangest sense. Yet still. He should expand on that apology.]
...I've been through bonds ending before. Bonds that- [Meant everything. Presences that were still those he most valued above any other. Important feelings, the most important person, he swore to himself he'd never forget. The reason for many things, including that grove.]
...
[Try again.]
Look. That one, Sephiroth, I-
[Come on.]
- It was a long time. Him going back's a good thing, if he remembers any of this, ...somewhere, at some point in time, some version of us isn't gonna go through what's happened to us. But... I think with this magic, the longer it's active, the worse it is when it ends. So I'm sorry, for putting the both of you through that. Really sorry.
[And time with Tifa. He nods, yet perhaps his reservation is showing in his face. It's... not like he doesn't give a shit. It's the opposite, entirely.] Yeah, maybe.
[The grove though.] I'll go with you. Maybe something's happened... and even if it hasn't-
[He wants to see. Desperately. Just once before-
The request confuses him. So his expression turns from something thoughtful, seemingly vulnerable, into one nothing shy of quizzical.]
...Why?
[Cloud.]
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( she won't act like it isn't hard to hear: but she does try to temper down her reaction, just enough. the sound of his name makes her shoulders go stiff, but she understands it, in a way--just as she could understand how much tifa couldn't understand, couldn't forgive, couldn't do anything now. so there's a soft nod, but she's finding it hard to say anything reassuring. she cares for cloud, more than she may want to say, but--well, she nods again and leaves it there. he's right: maybe somewhere, some version, in some universe...
the fact that he won't close his eyes, though, she can at least focus on that. it makes her smile despite herself, a playfully scoffing breath as she moves to close some of the distance between them. fine, he can have it his way--but she's not going to shy away from it, then, reaching with clean hands to the part of this particular dress that ties in at the back of her waist, undoing the bow to loosen the material, and then she's reaching for the collar to start to tug it right off over her head, in front of him.
she has on a plain cotton slip underneath, of course, so it's not revealing anything--except maybe some embarrassment, for him, but she's always enjoyed that a little; she bundles up the dirty dress in her arms and smiles up at him, her hair a little tousled from the effort. )
Do you want to meet there? ( at the grove. she's just carrying on like nothing happened. ) Or do you want to come pick me up and go together? You don't have to stay there all night, especially not when you're... Not when it's better for you to be in a bed, getting rest.
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[See now, he expected something like getting water flicked at him for being so sentimental, or... something else which was weird and unexpected and that'd only be ...vaguely okay if Aerith did it, but that?
That?!
He doesn't know where to look. When she approaches and she undoes the ties at the back of it, his expression is one of curiosity, but as soon as she lifts it over her head, he straight-up retreats- or tries to, his back thudding against the wall and his head pointing... above her height, and to the side.
And yes. Slip or not, his cheeks are burning. And even pointed away, his eyes close. As hard as he can close them. Some years have been taken off his life, he's almost certain.]
Uh-
Yeah. I'll pick you-
[His eyes open. And...
She's still only wearing that thin piece of fabric. They shut again.]
...
I'll come get you. And ...it's fine. It healed. I'm...
[He's not!]
M'good. So quit worrying.
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You're not good, and I'm not going to stop worrying. I'll let you come, but I'm going to take you home after an hour or two.
( or she'll ask zack to come get him--but either way, she's not going to let him push himself, not going to let him stay out there all night. )
Come sit down. Let me get you that water.
( that's why she's passed off the dress to him, after all: he can put it somewhere if he wants, or hold it, but she's seemingly unconcerned with trailing the kitchen in her slip, standing up on bare toes to pry a glass from the cabinet and bring it down. with water and ice put into it, she turns back around, ready to come to the table and set it down for him--and he better be sitting, or else. )
You're in no state to be sleeping outside, you know.
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He's... so confused, honestly, and still more than slightly mortified and... honestly, Aerith. Please. He sighs, just faintly, before he follows her into the kitchen, just to dump the rolled up, wrinkled mass of ...actually kind of soft fabric down onto the nearest available surface. There's a click of his tongue and he walks back out.
...And yeah, he takes a seat. When she comes over...]
I ain't gonna argue with you. But really. I'm okay now. It's not like I'd be able to get past Zack if I wasn't.
[His hand moves, and it seems, just for a moment, like he was considering covering Aerith's smaller, far more slender, far more elegant one with it. ...But he reconsiders, instead curling it on the table.]
...Besides. If what we did last time worked? ...I want to see it. Gotta admit, it's all I've been thinking about.
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she looks from it, to him, and then shakes her head a little. sure, she trusts zack, trusts him so much that she's stayed purposefully out of both of their ways, during all the healing time, but--zack and cloud can be similar in the way that they push themselves past points they don't even realize they have. then again, she's like that too, isn't she? )
I hope it did. ( there's a small smile, but it's obvious she's a little uncertain--she wrings it out, though, and continues on a little brighter. ) If it didn't, though, I'll try again. I really do think that we got it right, though, so...
( she reaches across the table, and clasps both of her hands down on top of cloud's, giving it a firm squeeze. )
If it works, then what do we do? They'll just stay blooming like that, right? Will they ever grow more?
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Regardless.
Her question, as well as her hands on his, causes him to look up, his gaze moving to the side. ...He should brush it off. Because... well, it's sentimental. Personal, too. But... For everything she's doing, everything she's done, she deserves to know.]
...I don't know what's going to happen.
But the guy that... uh, owned the shack that was there. I knew him. ...He was important to me. Still is. And what I gave you was important to him. They... came from the world he came from. ...And he worked on 'em for months. It never worked out, but it never stopped him. He just used to toss the flowers as soon as they bloomed into this lake nearby, picked new seeds out of the dirt, and tried again.
[He's staring into the distance now. His gaze lowers to his hands, and the small ones over the top. Aerith's wrists are so small compared to his own.]
...He told me, in his world, he gave up his right to exist. That he didn't just die there, that what he did there, meant he was never born. So... when he went back, he stopped existing again.
...And... I guess I'm the only person that knows he existed now. So I wanted to finish it. Then, that way- anyone that saw it would know he did that. ...Even if they didn't know who. Then, I guess, more people would've known him, because that kind of thing... [He shakes his head.] ...It was him.
[...It's sentimental. Stupid, even. But to him, it seems nothing but.]
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careful, her thumbs brush against the back of his hand, steady, encouraging.
already she's getting an idea for what to do. oh, she knows that cloud told her that if they all bloom at the same time, then they'll grant wishes, but she doesn't care about that part. cloud can have them, if he wants them; but it's not about that for him, either. it's about this person, so important to him, and about making sure someone remembered him. making sure that he left a mark, somewhere. so-- )
I think I have something that we could do, with the flowers. A few things, anyway, if they'll last long enough. I'll show you when I'm done.
( with a small smile, tentative, her gaze still on cloud's face. )
But if we did it right... I think that maybe, each seed will sprout, in order, and then bloom together, on the full moon. I'm just not sure if we got the order right. ( and then, softer: ) But I promise I won't give up, okay? I'll make it work for you.