Zero

by Topman730

Summary:

Five years ago, a botched mission in Nibelheim left two men on the run: Zack Fair, a former SOLDIER, and his friend, Cloud Strife. They survived a disaster that claimed the legendary General Sephiroth and wiped Nibelheim from the map, but the ordeal left Cloud a broken man.
Now, after years of hiding, they seek to live free. But they soon discover that escaping a hostile corporation is easier than outrunning the ghosts of their past—ghosts that threaten to define their future.

Notes:

English is not my first language so please if you find any mistake notify me and I well fix it .

Enjoy…

Chapter 1: Heaven and Hell

The rain fell in a steady, cold curtain, washing the grimy streets of Sector 5. Two figures, shrouded in long coats, moved through the shadows. The familiar weight of the Buster Swords on their backs felt like a part of them. Zack Fair, his usual swagger replaced by a quiet vigilance, led the way. Cloud Strife walked a step behind, his face a ghost in the dim light. He hadn't spoken more than a handful of words in two years.

“Almost there, buddy,” Zack said, his voice a low rumble. “She’s gonna be so surprised.”

They found the house tucked away on a quiet street. A single window on the second floor glowed with a soft, warm light. Zack’s heart pounded, a mixture of hope and fear. He knocked on the door, a quick rhythm he knew she’d recognize.

The door opened a crack, revealing Elmyra, Aerith’s adoptive mother. Her eyes, usually so kind, were wide with caution. She took in Zack’s disheveled appearance and the silent figure behind him. “What do you want?” she asked, her voice tight with suspicion.

“Elmyra, it’s me,” Zack said softly, pushing his hood back. “Zack.”

Recognition dawned on her face, quickly followed by a mix of relief and worry. She glanced at Cloud, who stared at the ground, his mind a million miles away. His fingers, tucked inside his pockets, twitched. He saw a flash of red—blood on his hands, on his mother’s clothes. The smell of burning wood filled his nose. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force the memories away.

Aerith appeared behind Elmyra, her face a question mark. “Who is it?”

Before anyone could answer, she saw him. Her eyes widened, and a gasp escaped her lips. “Zack!”

She lunged forward, pushing past Elmyra and throwing her arms around him. The hug was fierce, full of years of unspoken fear and hope. “I thought you were dead! Where have you been?”

“It’s a long story,” Zack said, holding her tight. “But I’m here now.” He pulled away just enough to look at her, a wide grin on his face. Then he gestured to the silent figure behind him. “Aerith, this is my friend, Cloud.”

Cloud didn’t move. He didn’t even look up. He felt her eyes on him, a gentle, curious gaze. He saw Tifa’s face in his mind—the way she looked at him with such warmth, before the fire, before the blood. He remembered his mother’s smile, her loving words, and the cold reality of her grave. He squeezed his hands into fists.

Aerith, unbothered by his silence, stepped closer. “Hello, Cloud. It’s nice to meet you.”

Zack stepped in. “He’s… a little shy. We’ve been through a lot.”

Elmyra, still on edge, finally invited them inside. “Come in. You’re dripping all over my floor.”

As they stepped out of the rain, Cloud’s gaze fell on a single flower pot near the door. The simple pink flowers seemed out of place in the grim setting. He thought of his hometown, of the fields of flowers that used to bloom outside Tifa’s house. He saw her, her face streaked with soot and tears, holding onto his bloodied hand. A sharp, physical pain pierced his heart. He felt his knees buckle. He was a sinner, a ghost haunted by the living. This life, this hope, was something he didn’t deserve.

The next day was a blur of domesticity. Zack, in a show of newfound skill, baked bread that won over a skeptical Elmyra. Aerith, ever the optimist, decided Cloud needed to get out of the house.

“Come on, my bodyguard,” she said with a cheerful lilt, tugging on his sleeve. “We’re going on a flower run.”

Zack gave him a nudge. “Go on, buddy. Get some fresh air.”

Cloud silently followed her into the afternoon light. He walked a step behind, his eyes scanning the streets, an old habit from his days in Sephiroth’s command. Aerith, unfazed by his quiet demeanor, tried to make conversation.

“So, Zack said you were in SOLDIER?” she asked, arranging a bouquet of flowers in a basket.

“Yeah.”

“What was it like?”

“Fine.”

She sighed in frustration. “You’re a man of many words, aren’t you?”

He didn't reply. They walked on, and she began to tell him about the different sectors. When she mentioned the Seventh Heaven bar and the girl who ran it, a flicker of recognition passed through his mind, but it was quickly lost in a haze.

A small boy ran up and asked his mother for a flower. Aerith gave him one, and Cloud felt a pang of longing for a simpler time, when he had a mother, a home, and a future.

“I could use a drink,” he said, his voice rusty.

Aerith’s eyes lit up. “Oh, the Don’s place? Or the night market? You have to be careful, though.” She then grew serious. “But first, a favor. Could you walk me to the church? I want to… to pray.”

He didn't argue. They walked in silence, the air thick with unspoken thoughts. When they arrived, the crumbling church was a haven of green and light.

“I want to thank God for bringing Zack back to me,” she said, her voice soft. “And… I want you to pray, too.”

He shook his head, looking down at his hands, his knuckles turning white. “If I prayed, no one would listen. I'm a sinner. I'm already in hell.”

Her heart broke a little at his words, but she simply gave him a small, sad smile. “Wait for me outside.”

He stood by the entrance, the Buster Sword a weight on his back, his mind a whirlwind of fragmented memories. He saw his own hands, red and sticky, and the blood on Tifa's face. He saw his mother's lifeless body. He remembered Sephiroth’s cruel, commanding words, and the terror of the flames. He was a monster, he knew it. He had a past he couldn’t run from.

When Aerith emerged, the gentle sunlight illuminating her face, she didn't say a word about his refusal to pray. She simply took his arm.

“I prayed for you,” she said softly. “That God would forgive your sins.”

He stopped walking. A lump formed in his throat. For the first time in a long time, he felt something other than cold rage and guilt. He felt… seen.

They walked in silence for a while before she asked another question. “Is there a girl in your life?”

Cloud looked up at the sky, a distant, hollow look in his eyes. “There was. She… died a long time ago.” His voice was barely a whisper. “I hope she found her peace.”

He fell silent again, and they continued their journey back to her home, the unspoken grief between them as heavy as the Buster Sword on his back.

Zack and Elmyra sat across from each other at the kitchen table, their conversation a low murmur. Cloud, walking in after his flower run with Aerith, froze in the doorway. He saw the serious expression on Zack’s face, the slight tension in Elmyra’s shoulders, and his heart sank. His first thought was betrayal—that Zack had told her everything. But as Zack looked up and saw him, the grim mask slipped away, replaced by his usual easy grin. He was Zack the friend again.

Cloud moved silently, taking a seat at the table. He ate with them, but remained a ghost at the feast, answering questions with single words or a shake of his head. Aerith and Zack tried to draw him out, but his gaze was fixed on his plate, a fortress of silence.

After the meal, as Aerith and Elmyra started clearing dishes, Zack got up and sat beside Cloud. “Don't worry,” he said quietly, as if reading Cloud’s mind. “Your secret is safe with me. I didn't tell her anything.”

A silent weight lifted from Cloud’s shoulders. He let out a long, slow sigh and finally looked at Zack. “Then what did you tell her?”

“Nothing, basically,” Zack said with a shrug. “I just told her we both refused a mission and Shinra ordered capital punishment on us. Said we escaped. It’s close enough to the truth.”

Cloud's gaze went distant, lost in a memory of blood and fire. “You know, capital punishment is heaven to me at this point.”

Zack’s easy demeanor vanished. He put a hand on Cloud’s shoulder, his expression a mask of concern. “Come on, Cloud. Don’t say that. You promised me, remember? You have to try and enjoy life.” He leaned in closer. “Have you… have you heard his voice in your head lately?”

“No,” Cloud said, shaking his head. “Not really. It’s been a long time. I hope to never hear it again.”

“That’s it, buddy.” Zack’s hand squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “I’m not letting anything happen to you again. I promise.”

Later, when the house had settled, Cloud walked out to the front garden. He sat on the small, wooden bench, staring up at the endless sea of stars, each one a tiny, cold promise of a world far away from Midgar.

Aerith joined Zack at the window, watching the lonely figure. “You have a strange friend,” she said softly.

Zack sighed, his gaze fixed on Cloud. “Yeah. But he’s been through a lot. Just give him some time. I know he’ll push through this.”

She held out a cup of tea to him. “So, are you going to tell me his story?”

Zack took the cup but shook his head. “I’m sorry, Aerith. You need to get permission from him. I promised him, and a man’s promise is sacred.”

“Okay,” she said, her head resting on his shoulder. “Then where have you been for five years? Tseng dropped by from time to time to make sure I was alright, and he told me you were dead... in a botched mission. That really hurt me, my savior.”

Zack wrapped his arm around her. “I’m sorry. I promised we’d meet again, remember?”

A sudden, sharp "Ahem!" came from behind them. They jumped apart, their faces flushing with embarrassment as Elmyra stood there, a disapproving look on her face.

“Mom!” Aerith groaned. “It's rude to appear out of nowhere like that!”

“You know what's rude?” Elmyra shot back. “It's rude to act all lovely-dovey with a guy you just met. Now go to your room!”

Aerith sighed dramatically and shuffled off. When she was gone, Elmyra turned to Zack, her expression serious. “Promise me you won’t break my little girl’s heart. You will make her happy.”

Zack looked her in the eye, his voice as serious as he could make it. “I promise. A man’s word is sacred.”

Cloud stepped inside, the front door closing with a soft click behind him. The house was quiet. Too quiet. He stood perfectly still, his senses on high alert. A faint noise drifted from the kitchen. His hand immediately went to the hilt of the Buster Sword on his back, his muscles tensing. He moved silently, one careful step after another, until he reached the kitchen doorway.

It was just Zack, standing in front of an open cabinet, rummaging for a midnight snack. He turned, a half-eaten bag of chips in his hand, and grinned. “Took you long enough! I’ve been waiting for hours.”

Cloud let his hand fall from his sword, the tension leaving his shoulders. “You were going to attack me?” Zack asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

Cloud shrugged. “Just to be sure. You never know with Shinra.”

“Right,” Zack said, his smile fading. “Hey, are you still afraid of sleeping? You were out cold last night.”

“What? No!” Cloud said, perhaps too quickly.

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” Zack said, letting out a yawn. “I promised Elmyra I’d bake her a cake in the morning, and a man’s word is sacred.”

“Okay,” Cloud sighed, following him out of the kitchen.

They went to the small room they’d been lent, a storage closet cleared out for them. Cloud lay down on the makeshift bed, staring at the ceiling, fighting the urge to fall asleep. After a few minutes, he turned to Zack.

“Zack?”

“Yeah?” Zack’s voice was already slurred with sleep.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Ask away.”

Cloud’s voice was a whisper. “How can you sleep at night?”

Zack sat up. “Easy. I close my eyes and I sleep.”

“But I can’t,” Cloud said, a bitter edge to his tone. “All I can see is fire and ash, knowing what really happened back then.”

Zack’s quiet laughter stopped. He sat up fully and looked at Cloud with a grave expression. “Cloud, just try it. Lie down, close your eyes, and remember some memory with your loved ones. It’ll relax your mind and let you sleep. Try it.”

Cloud did. He closed his eyes and tried to remember his mother’s smile and Tifa’s laugh. He focused on the good memories, and slowly, the tension in his body eased. In less than half an hour, he was asleep.

A little while later, Zack looked over at him. “Cloud?”

When he didn’t get an answer, Zack smiled, lay his head back on his pillow, and drifted off to sleep.

In his nightmare, Cloud was back in Nibelheim. The city was a sea of fire, the flames licking at the sky. He saw his mother, her face etched with terror, begging for her life. A figure in a black uniform—Sephiroth—raised a sword, and with a swift, merciless motion, ended her life. Cloud watched, frozen, a silent scream caught in his throat.

Then the scene shifted. He was standing in the middle of a burning street. Zack lunged at him, his Buster Sword raised. He brought him to the ground, and Cloud’s ears were filled with the commanding voice, distorted and malevolent.

“Kill him.”

Zack lay motionless, his eyes closed. “No, please, no!” Cloud pleaded, tears streaming down his face. “Please!” His arms lifted on their own, his muscles moving against his will, a puppet on a string. He raised his sword, his body preparing for the final, killing blow.

“No! Please, I beg you!” he screamed, his voice raw with despair.

He sat bolt upright, drenched in sweat, his heart hammering against his ribs. He took in his surroundings—the cramped room, the smell of damp earth—and reminded himself, “It's just a nightmare, Cloud. Just a nightmare.”

He got up and retrieved his sword, sitting with his back against the wall, the heavy blade resting between his legs. Exhaustion finally won, and with the silent comfort of the sword in his hands, he drifted back into a restless sleep.

Cloud woke up on the floor, his sword still in his hand. He looked at the empty bed where Zack was supposed to be sleeping and put the sword back on his back. He was still rattled from the nightmare, but a part of him felt a strange sense of comfort knowing that Zack was alive and well.

He walked out of the room, looking for Zack, and found him in the kitchen. He was standing in front of the counter, a bag of flour on the floor.

Zack looked at Cloud and smiled. “Bad dream, huh?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

“Yeah,” Cloud said, his voice a low grumble.

“What was it about?” Zack asked.

“The same as before. I hear the voice, lose control, and I kill you.”

Zack sighed and put a hand on Cloud’s shoulder. “Well, look at me. I’m alive and kicking. It’s just a dream, Cloud. No one’s going to hurt you. We’re free now. Relax a little.”

Cloud nodded, the words a balm to his raw nerves. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m going to go see the market. Do you want to come with me?”

“No,” Zack said. “The cake isn’t finished, and Elmyra will never let me hear the end of it. You go and come back at lunch.”

“Alright,” Cloud said, a small smile on his face.

He walked out of the house and made his way to the market. The sun was warm on his skin, but the air was still cold. He passed by a newsstand and saw a paper with the headline, “AVALANCHE ATTACKS SECTOR ONE REACTOR.” He picked up a paper and read the article, his eyes wide with disbelief. A group of terrorists had attacked a Shinra reactor. He could see the smoke rising from the sky. He felt a pang of sadness for the people who had died in the attack. He walked away from the newsstand, the paper clutched in his hand.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around to see Aerith. “Well, good afternoon, sleeping beauty.”

He didn’t know what to say. He was flustered, his mind still on the news.

“So what made you get out of the house?” Aerith asked, her voice soft and gentle.

“I just wanted some fresh air,” Cloud said.

Aerith nodded and led him to the school. She introduced him to the children and told them he was a First Class SOLDIER.

Cloud corrected her. “Retired First Class SOLDIER.”

He sat there awkwardly, looking at the children. He felt a pang of guilt. He wasn’t a SOLDIER. He was a fraud. He was a monster.

“If you want to be like me,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “you need to work hard at school and become the number one in your class to be a First Class SOLDIER.”

The children’s eyes lit up, and they all started asking him questions. He answered as best he could, but his mind was elsewhere.

Afterward, Aerith asked him to walk her to the church. He obliged, and they walked in silence. When they reached the church, he let her go inside and stood outside, lost in his thoughts.

He thought of all his fallen friends in Shinra, his mother, and Tifa. He thought of the promise he made to her, the promise he could never fulfill. He thought of how she would laugh at him, a failed SOLDIER, a monster. He thought it was for the better that she died and couldn’t see the mess that he was.

When Aerith came out of the church, she told him she had prayed for him. He stayed silent. He was a sinner. A monster. He was not worthy of her prayers.

As they walked back to her house, they saw two Shinra patrols asking Elmyra about Avalanche. Elmyra told them that neither she nor Aerith knew anything. The patrols thanked her and left. When they were gone, Aerith saw Cloud’s eyes change color, and his demeanor shifted. He became a killing machine, ready to strike. She grabbed his arm and told him they were gone and he needed to relax. After a minute, he was back to his old self, and they went back home.

Cloud entered the house, his eyes scanning every corner. The memory of the Shinra patrols was fresh, and his hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword. “Where’s Zack?” he asked Elmyra, his voice sharp with urgency.

Elmyra, with a knowing glance at Aerith, simply gestured to the balcony door. Aerith stepped forward and opened it, revealing a flustered Zack trying to look nonchalant while holding a half-eaten slice of cake. Cloud’s tense posture softened, his hand moving away from his sword as he let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“You really hid on the balcony?” Cloud asked, a hint of a smile on his face.

“You can never be too careful!” Zack said with a shrug.

After a moment, Aerith looked at Zack, a question in her eyes. He shook his head slightly, a silent understanding passing between them. Her question about Cloud’s story would remain unanswered for now.

Cloud, surprisingly, walked over to the table and began helping Elmyra set it for lunch. They all sat down to enjoy the meal Zack had prepared. The food was delicious, but the conversation quickly turned to the news of the reactor bombing.

“What Avalanche did was pointless,” Cloud said, his tone blunt and direct. “They only brought unwanted attention to the slums.”

Aerith looked at him, her expression thoughtful. “Maybe you’re right, but I’m sure they have their reasons.”

Elmyra cut in, her voice firm. “Reasons or not, they're wasting human lives and jobs with these foolish stunts.”

Zack chimed in, “If they really want to hurt Shinra, they should attack where it counts—the money. You hit their wallet, they’ll listen.”

Cloud leaned forward. “Shinra has the weaponry and the gear to make an empire bow to its knees. Look at what they're doing in Wutai. This is pointless.”

“Even with all that, they still need money to use it,” Zack countered.

Cloud, growing weary of the debate, changed the subject. He looked at Aerith. “You mentioned a bar before. The one in Sector 7?”

Aerith’s face lit up. “The Seventh Heaven? It's about a half-hour walk from here, after the night market.”

“Alright then,” Cloud said, pushing his chair back. “I’ll be going.”

Zack’s head shot up. “Don’t be late!” he shouted.

“Yeah, yeah,” Cloud said, already closing the door behind him.

Once Cloud was gone, Zack’s playful demeanor dropped. He turned to Aerith, his expression serious. “I need to get some documents from Shinra.”

“For what?” Aerith asked, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“Please,” Zack said, his voice earnest. “You have to trust me.”

Aerith sighed, a long, weary sound. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the number Tseng had given her. She dialed it and handed the phone to Zack, a look of quiet resignation on her face.

Cloud stumbled out of Aerith’s place, the streets of Sector 5 a blur. His mind was on fire, a chaotic jumble of memories and failures. He saw his mother's hopeful face, wishing her son would return a First Class SOLDIER. He felt the cold disappointment when he came back a failure. They were right. He was a joke. His father's ghost laughed at him from some hellish corner of the lifestream. And then there was Brian Lockhart’s sneering face: My daughter doesn’t marry failures.

His dream had been so simple: become a SOLDIER, get a promotion, return to Nibelheim, and marry Tifa. No one could have said a word against him. But he'd failed. Everything they'd said was true. He closed his eyes, and the world dissolved into a memory of a life that could have been: him, Tifa, and his mother laughing together at their home. But even that was a lie. Tifa would want a successful man, not a failure like him.

“I really need a drink,” he muttered, the words thick with shame.

He walked for what felt like an eternity, the neon signs of Sector 7's slums a hazy glow in the distance. He was still lost in his thoughts when a noise cut through the haze. A crowd had gathered at the entrance to a mine.

"What's all this about?" Cloud asked a man in the crowd.

The man looked him over. "You didn't see the posters? Monsters are down there."

Lost in his own thoughts, Cloud hadn't seen a single poster. "How many?" he asked.

"No one knows," the man replied. "But there are people trapped inside. Someone went to call Barret."

Cloud sighed, the sound lost in the panicked murmuring of the crowd. Ignoring their shouts for him to turn back, he drew the Buster Sword and stepped into the darkness of the mine. His eyes, trained for the dark, adjusted instantly. A monster lunged at him from the shadows, but with one swift motion, Cloud cut it down. More appeared from every direction.

"I hope the bounty's worth it," he muttered.

The fight was over in six minutes. He systematically cut down every last one of them, his failures momentarily forgotten in the rush of battle. He looked at the bodies and decided he needed proof. A monster's head would do. He put his sword on his back and walked out, the head held high.

The crowd gasped. They looked at him, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief.

"Are you hurt?" someone asked.

"I'm fine," Cloud said, the words coming out flat.

Just then, a massive man with a gun where his hand should be pushed through the crowd. He was out of breath. "Where are the monsters?" Barret asked, his eyes scanning the crowd.

"Killed them," Cloud said, raising the monster's head. "This is your proof. The problem's over. Where do I collect?"

Barret's eyes narrowed. "And how am I supposed to believe a stranger? We don't know you."

"Go inside and see for yourself. I even saved three people who were stuck in there." Cloud challenged him, his gaze firm. "Is that really how you thank me? Pay me, and I'll leave."

Barret pointed his gun-arm right at Cloud's face. "You don't get it, punk. You don't bring a sword to a gunfight."

Cloud stared at the cold metal barrel. He took a step forward, closing the gap between them until the gun pressed against his forehead. "Try me," he said, his voice a low whisper. "A lot of people tried before you. None of them lived to tell the tale. So pay me. Or shoot me."

Just then, Barret's phone rang. His entire demeanor shifted. "I'm sorry, baby, I'll be there soon. Just give me five minutes." He ended the call, his face a mask of frustration. He pulled a handful of gil from his pocket. "Count yourself lucky, punk. Now get out of my face! Biggs and Wedge—get in there and clean this place up!"

Barret stormed away, leaving Cloud alone in the middle of the street, the sounds of the slums returning to fill the sudden silence. Cloud stared at the handful of gil, a laugh escaping his lips. He’d forgotten to ask Aerith where the bar was. He was walking in circles. Then, he looked up and saw it, a neon sign flickering at the end of the street: Seventh Heaven.

He laughed again, a single, sharp sound. He was a man who knew he was going to hell, and here he was, at a place called "heaven."

Chapter 2: A Familiar Face

Summary:

Enjoy..

The sounds of a crowded bar spilled into the street, a cacophony of laughter and loud music. Just as Cloud reached the door of the Seventh Heaven, it burst open. A woman with fiery red hair heaved a man out by his collar, sending him tumbling onto the dusty ground.
"That's it, Johnny!" she yelled after the groaning man. "You're on time-out!"
She turned, her eyes landing on Cloud. A sly grin spread across her face. "Oh, hey there, blondie," she purred, leaning against the door frame. She tried to flirt, but Cloud stood there, mute. His mind was racing, a chaotic mess of memories and anxieties. He didn't know how to respond to this kind of attention.
He moved to step inside, but the woman, who he now knew was Jesse, blocked his way. She pointed to a sign written in bold letters above the door: NO WEAPONS ALLOWED.
"Sorry, but you'll have to give me the sword," she said, holding out a hand.
Cloud's grip tightened on the hilt. "No one touches this sword but me," he stated, his voice firm. "If it's a problem, I'll just turn and leave."
"Well, if it isn't our hero!" a voice boomed from the crowd. A man whom Cloud had helped at the mines stepped forward.
Jesse looked at him, confused. "Hero?"
"Yeah, Jesse, he saved the slums from the monster problem!" the man explained. She looked at Cloud in shock. "This blondie killed all the monsters? Yeah, I wish you could've seen it! He even stood up to Barret and took the bounty."
Jesse laughed, a genuine, hearty sound. "He really did that? I wish Biggs could see that, he'd die laughing!" Her smile faded as she looked at Cloud's confused face. "So what's wrong? You seemed about to leave."
Cloud gestured toward the sign again. "The rules. Tifa would be angry."
Jesse's eyes lit up. "Tifa? You know her?" she asked.
A flicker of an old memory passed through Cloud's mind. "There was a girl in the past, but that was a long time ago," he said softly.
She looked at him, a new understanding in her gaze. "Okay," she said, stepping aside. "I'll let it slide this time. You can get in with the sword, but please, no fighting."
He walked past her into the crowded, smoke-filled bar. People were drunk and loud, but what truly caught his eye was a little girl behind the counter, serving beers to men twice her size. He just wanted to find a silent corner, get drunk, and leave, but most of the tables were taken. He settled for a stool at the bar.
And then he saw her. The owner. Her voice, her movements, her name—it was all her. His mind reeled. Was this some cruel trick? Was he hallucinating? That's her. That's Tifa! He couldn't believe it. Panic seized him. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, a frantic drum against his ribs.
She reached him. "Hi, what can I help you with?" she asked, her voice a calm melody that felt both familiar and alien.
"Give me something strong," he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. He looked at her, searching her face for any hint of recognition, but there was nothing. He ordered a whiskey.
Just as she was pouring his drink, a drunk man from the table behind them reached out, his hand lurching toward her. She turned, caught his wrist in a grip of iron, and slammed it onto the table with a sickening crack. "That's it for you, mister," she said, her voice dangerously low.
She turned back to Cloud and saw his hand on his sword, ready to attack. "Don't worry," she said softly, placing his drink on the bar before she walked away.
A few minutes passed before she returned to him, offering to pour him another drink. As she refilled his glass, she smiled. "You left quite an impression on the people, hero," she teased.
His body froze. He was no hero. He was a fraud, a monster, a failure.
She smiled again, a soft, familiar curve of her lips. "You have a familiar face."
"You mean me?" he asked, pointing to himself.
"Yeah, you." Her smile grew wider.
"I don't know," he mumbled, "my face is uninteresting."
She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that sent shivers down his spine. "So, how has life been, Cloud?"
Cloud's entire body went rigid, his carefully constructed defenses crumbling into dust. It was her. The face he'd seen in his nightmares and his most cherished, fleeting dreams. The only word he could utter was a hoarse whisper: "Tifa."
"Yes," she smiled, a soft, familiar curve of her lips that somehow managed to melt the ice around his heart. "That's me. But how... how..." he stammered, the questions tumbling out before she cut him off.
"How am I alive? I don’t know. The last thing I remember..." Her gaze drifted, a shadow passing over her eyes. "Then I woke up in a hospital in Midgar. The doctors there said I was the only survivor."
Cloud's head bowed, his gaze falling to his drink, the amber liquid swirling with unspoken guilt. "But I built a life for myself here," Tifa continued, her voice regaining its strength. "I'm a co-owner of this bar with Jesse." She paused, her eyes searching his. "So, where have you been? Your mom and I tried to send you letters, but we never got a reply."
"I'm sorry," Cloud mumbled, his head still down, shame burning his cheeks. "I was too focused on my goal to be a First Class SOLDIER... I saw all of your letters, and I was going to come back to you a new man, just like I promised."
A sad smile touched Tifa's lips. "So you remember the promise?"
"Of course," he told her, the word barely audible.
Their conversation was abruptly cut short as Barret Wallace, a force of nature in human form, stomped over, his gun-arm glinting in the dim light. "Tifa, is this punk causing you any problems?"
"No," she quickly replied, just as a little girl, Marlene, who had been serving drinks, ran up and tugged on Barret's pant leg. His demeanor instantly softened.
"Don't fight in here, Daddy! You promised me!" Marlene pleaded.
"Yeah, but this man is dangerous," Barret grumbled, though his voice had lost its edge.
"No, he is not!" Tifa shot back, louder than intended. "Everyone says he's a hero who saved us from the monsters in the mines!"
Barret scoffed, his gaze sweeping over Cloud's SOLDIER uniform. "Yeah, but he's wearing a Shinra uniform!"
At that, every head in the bar turned. Cloud slowly stood up, turning to face Barret. "I could tell he is even a SOLDIER there too," Barret added, a sneer on his face.
"You worked at Shinra?" Cloud asked, his voice low and dangerous.
"That was a long time ago," Barret retorted. "And I'm not working for them. I retired..."
"Bullshit!" Barret interrupted. "No one retires in their prime! They'd never let you leave!"
"But I left," Cloud stated, his eyes locking with Barret's.
Tifa quickly stepped between them, placing a hand on each of their chests. "Come on, guys, just relax a bit."
"I won't sit in a place where someone who supports Shinra sits," Barret growled, looking at Tifa with accusation. "He's like them."
Cloud's shoulders slumped. "Okay," he said, his voice quiet. "I'll leave."
"Good! Now get the hell out of Sector 7!" Barret barked.
"Barret, stop!" Tifa cut him off, her voice laced with anger. "Who the hell do you think you are, kicking someone out of my bar?" She then grabbed Cloud's arm, pulling him back toward his stool. "And you, sit!"
Cloud, surprised by her ferocity, sat back down. Barret, fuming, retreated to the other corner of the bar. Tifa then turned back to Cloud and slid a fresh drink across the counter: a vibrant, blue Cosmo Canyon.
Cloud took a sip, the sweet, fruity taste a stark contrast to the bitter turmoil in his gut. "This is the first time I've ever seen you stand up for someone who works for Shinra," Barret yelled from across the room, his voice still accusatory. "You know what they've done to your home!"
"It's his home too!" Tifa's retort stopped Barret mid-rant, a sudden silence falling over the bar.
"What do you mean?" Barret asked, confusion replacing his anger.
"He's from Nibelheim," Tifa explained, her gaze softening as she looked at Cloud. "Do you remember I told you one of my closest friends left to achieve his dream? Here he is. I couldn't believe he came back, and I'll be damned if you let him leave. So play nice."
Barret simply nodded, a grudging acceptance on his face. Tifa smiled, a triumphant glint in her eyes, and turned back to Cloud, who was still sitting silently, the focus of everyone's stares. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a handful of gil, and placed it on the bar, then stood up to leave.
"Don't leave!" Tifa cried, almost jumping over the bar to stop him. Her voice was laced with a raw, desperate plea that made him hesitate. He sat back down, but remained quiet, his gaze distant.
She then poured him another drink. When he looked up at her, he could see her smile. "This one's on the house."
Tifa poured herself a drink, the rich blue of the Cosmo Canyon a stark contrast to the dim lighting of the bar. She then motioned to Jesse, who took over behind the counter. The crowd parted as Tifa led Cloud to a quiet corner booth, their every movement watched by a mix of curious and disdainful eyes. One man stepped in front of Cloud, his face etched with pain.
"I had a brother," the man said, his voice raw with grief. "He went on a mission in Cosmo Canyon and never came back. Do you know what happened?"
Cloud looked at the man, his expression softening. He answered truthfully. "I'm sorry, but if the men came back without him, they must have reported to their superior." He paused, his gaze growing distant. "Or maybe... he ran away."
The man's eyes flashed with anger. He glared at Cloud, then turned and stomped off. Tifa gently guided Cloud to the booth and sat opposite him, her eyes never leaving his face.
Silence stretched between them until Tifa broke it. "You didn't answer my question," she said softly. "Where have you been for the last five years?"
Cloud met her gaze, but the words wouldn't come. She saw the pain in his eyes and the way he struggled to find an answer. She understood. Just as she was about to speak, he beat her to it.
"I killed Sephiroth," he said, the words a quiet bombshell that landed with a heavy thud.
Tifa stared at him, her mind reeling. "You were at Nibelheim?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. He looked down at his cup and nodded. "Come on, Cloud, look at me. Did you just sit there and let them do this to the people of the city? I know they wronged you in the past, but..."
"I know," Cloud interrupted, his head still bowed. "But this is the reason I retired. Everyone went crazy with the General. No one would listen to us. We pleaded, but it was like everyone was brainwashed, so I took my sword and did what I had to do."
Tifa stared at him, her face a mask of shock. She didn't know how to process this information. With a quiet voice, she told him she believed him, even as her mind began to analyze every word he'd said.
"You know, that day when the Shinra people killed us, I wished that my hero was there," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Cloud closed his eyes. He had said those very words to her when they were young. "I'm no one's hero," he said, his voice filled with regret. "But the General had to die. I still don't know what happened to make him go mad, but the dead don't speak."
"Yeah, but what brought you to Midgar?" she asked.
"A friend of mine had a friend here, so we came here and we've been living with her and her mother."
Tifa's eyebrows shot up. "So you've been living with a girl?"
Cloud looked at her, flustered. "Me? No! She was Zack's friend."
"And you," she said, a small smile on her face, "do you have friends here?"
Tifa closed her eyes, knowing what he was implying. "Not really," she admitted. "I was so focused on making this bar work that I didn't let anyone get close to me. Although, now that I think about it, there was a guy who promised me he'd come back, and then he left."
"And who was he?" Cloud asked, a nervous tremor in his voice.
Tifa laughed, a soft, warm sound that made his heart flutter. "It was you, dummy."
Cloud sat there, stunned. "So you're telling me you've been without a friend for over seven years?"
"Yeah, and so what?" she replied, a blush rising in her cheeks. "It's not like you'll find someone who would stay there, knowing you."
"Yeah, but you're Tifa!" he said, the words tumbling out.
"So what?!" she replied. "So you want me to have friends now?"
"What, no!" Cloud said, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and desperation.
"Good! That's what I want to hear." Tifa's voice softened, a comforting tone returning. "So, where are you sleeping tonight? I'll get back to Aerith's place."
"And her name is Aerith, huh?" she teased.
"No," Tifa said. "How about you sleep at the bar? You could stay here."
"I don't know, Tifa..."
"Come on," she said, her voice filled with a quiet plea.
Cloud looked into her eyes, and a long sigh escaped his lips. "Alright, you got me." He gave her a tired, grateful smile. "Which booth do you want me to sleep at?"
Meanwhile, across the plate, a heavy silence settled in Aerith's home. She paced the floor, her hands clasped nervously. "I'm afraid," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "What if he comes with a full force and takes you away from me?"
Zack smiled softly, reaching out to take her hands. "If he were going to do that, he would've done it a long time ago. Tseng is a company man, but he has some information that I need to know. And on the other hand, I have some info that might interest him."
"I don't know," she said, shaking her head. "I just... I think calling him is a bad idea."
"Come on, Aerith," Zack reassured her, a flash of his old confidence returning. "Even if he tries something fishy, I'll finish him."
She gave him a hesitant nod, then dialed the number. The line rang twice before a familiar voice answered. "Yes," she said, sounding nervous.
"Is something wrong?" Tseng asked, his tone flat.
"No," she replied, trying to sound calm. "I just wanted to know if we could meet today."
"I will be free at midnight," he answered, and with that, the call ended.
A long sigh of relief escaped her lips as she hung up the phone. "What did he say?" Zack asked, his voice filled with urgency.
"He'll be here at midnight," she answered. They both looked at the clock on the wall. It was now 10:30 p.m.
"Cloud is taking his time, hasn't he?" Zack asked, a hint of worry in his voice.
"Come on, Zack," she said, playfully swatting his arm. "He's a grown man. Don't treat him like a kid."
"But you don't know wh—" he began, but Aerith gently placed a finger over his lips, shushing him.
"Shhh," she whispered. "Trust him. I think the fact he hasn't come back yet is a good sign."
Zack looked at her suspiciously, but her confident smirk and the way she rested her head on his shoulder melted his worry away. "You know," he said softly, "if your mom saw us, she would kill you."
"Yeah," Aerith replied, a chuckle in her voice. "But don't ruin the moment for us."
And so they stayed, wrapped in a quiet embrace, waiting.
The clock on the wall of Aerith's home ticked toward midnight, each beat echoing the rapid thump of Zack's heart. "Maybe it's Cloud?" he said, trying to ease the tension with a hopeful smile. But when Aerith opened the door, it was Tseng, his elegant suit a stark, unsettling sight in their humble home.
"What's wrong?" Tseng asked, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "Did anyone find you?"
"No," Aerith answered, trying to mask her nervousness. "But I wanted to sit. Please, sit down. Would you like a tea or coffee?"
"A coffee, black please," he replied, his gaze already scanning the room.
Zack stepped out of the shadows. "Long time no see, Tseng."
"Oh, what do we have here?" Tseng said, a cold glint in his eyes. "The traitor appears. You know I could end you with one phone call."
"Yeah, but you won't do it. That's why I called you," Zack said with a hint of a smirk. Tseng sat down, his silence a sign of grudging respect. "I want to know about the Jenova Program."
Tseng took a moment, his fingers tapping on his briefcase. "Alright, I'll tell you. But first, I want to know one thing."
"Alright, hit me," Zack said.
"Cissnei," Tseng stated, his voice flat. "How did she die?"
Aerith set Tseng's coffee down, her eyes full of concern as she looked at Zack, who was taken aback by the question.
"I'll tell you, but you have to believe me," Zack said, his voice dropping. "But first, could you tell me what they wrote in the report?"
Tseng opened his briefcase and pulled out a file, sliding it across the table. "It was a retrieval mission in Junon. That's what the report says." He took a sip of his coffee. "The real reason is far more sinister. This mission was not approved by President Shinra. It was a personal mission, approved by Doctor Hojo himself. It wasn't in the books."
Zack's gaze hardened. "We were never sent there to retrieve. We were sent there to kill. We had orders to assassinate everyone, without question. Kids, pregnant women... Hojo wanted them all dead. He told us that a defective First Class SOLDIER, Genesis Rhapsodos, had gone mad and was obsessed with a poem called Loveless. That's what he wanted us to believe. But Genesis was enhanced with Sephiroth's blood, which had Jenova in it. That's what made him go mad. To cover up his mistake, Hojo sent us all to slaughter."
Aerith sat down beside Zack and held his hand, her knuckles turning white.
Zack continued, "My job was to stop Genesis, and I did. But then there was another betrayal. My mentor, Angeal Hewley, helped Genesis escape. I had to put him down. With Cissnei's help, of course."
"That made you our number one SOLDIER," Tseng said, his voice showing a hint of something that sounded like pride. "We even gave you the nickname, 'Hero'."
"And like in the past, I told you, I hate it," Zack said, the bitterness heavy in his voice. "But until now, you didn't give me a reason why." He took a deep breath and looked directly at Tseng. "How did Cissnei die?"
"After everything that happened, a team of agents came to us to report what the hell happened," Zack continued. "I wrote a report about what happened in detail."
"Wait, you wrote one?" Tseng asked, genuine surprise on his face. "Of course. Every First Class SOLDIER has to do it."
"Hmm," Tseng said, scratching his chin. "Continue."
"Cissnei was in a bad mood," Zack said, his eyes unwavering. "She saw no urgency from the agents and noticed they were killing men and taking women with them. She refused to listen, so I had to put her down."
Zack watched Tseng's face, and for a moment, he saw a flash of pain in his eyes.
"Alright," Tseng said, breaking the gaze. "I'll try to get you the information you want, but you need to give me some time."
"No problem," Zack replied. "But I really need it."
Tseng stood up, wished Aerith a good day, and left.
Tseng's departure left a heavy silence in the room. Aerith returned to the living room and sat beside Zack, who was still staring at the spot where Tseng had been.
"I'm so sorry about what happened to you," she said, her voice soft and full of sympathy. "And… did you really kill Cissnei?"
Zack finally looked at her, and a small, sad smile touched his lips. "Of course not," he said. "I helped her escape. She's free now, and that's what's important."
"So you know where she is?" Aerith asked, a wave of relief washing over her.
"Yes," he confirmed. "She's in my hometown, Gongaga."
"Thank God," Aerith whispered. She then thought of Angeal. "I'm so sorry about your mentor."
Zack's sad smile returned. "He was a good man, but he fell into the darkness. I just hope that doesn't happen to me." He looked at his hands, a shadow of worry in his eyes. "The degradation of the cells that happens to First Class SOLDIERS... it affects our minds. I hope that when it happens to me, I won't lose my mind like all of them."
"Don't worry," Aerith said, her voice firm. "I won't let anything bad happen to you."
"Yeah, but this is inevitable," he said, a note of resignation in his voice. He sighed sadly. "That's what we signed for, to be heroes."
"Like I said," Aerith replied, her voice now filled with an unwavering determination. "I won't let this fate happen to you."
He looked at the clock on the wall. It was now 1:15 a.m. "This is strange," he said, the worry returning. "Cloud still hasn't come back."
"I told you, don't worry," Aerith replied, a knowing look on her face. "He's not a baby."
"You know something, don't you?" he asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
She just smiled at him, a warm, secretive smile that told him everything and nothing at all.
The next morning, Tifa woke up to a persistent knocking on her door. "Tifa, come on, it's noon! Get up, it's not like you!" It was Jesse's voice.
"Alright, alright," Tifa mumbled, but Jesse's knocking didn't stop. "I'm waiting for you," Jesse said through the door.
Tifa checked the space beside her and found Cloud still sleeping soundly. She smiled softly. "I don't know where you've been," she whispered, "but I'll be damned if I let you go away again."
Jesse knocked on the door again, her voice a little more insistent this time. "Come on, Tifa, they're waiting for us in the bar!"
"Alright, I'll take a shower and be right there," Tifa said. "You go on ahead, I won't be late."
She went to the bathroom, and a few minutes later, she returned, clean and refreshed. She shook Cloud. "Come on, Cloud, wake up. Five more minutes, no. We need to move, and you need to shower now."
He woke up, disoriented, and when he realized where he was, he searched for his sword. Tifa laughed. "Come on, Cloud, your sword. I hung it up on the wall right there." She pointed to the wall, and he relaxed. "Secondly," she said, her voice more serious, "you're going to drop this gear."
"No!" Cloud protested. "It's practical."
"No, it's not," Tifa replied. "You're not working for Shinra, and after what Barret said, the people here won't be very welcoming to you."
"But..."
"No buts," Tifa said, pushing him toward the bathroom. "I'll buy you some normal clothes after my meeting in the bar."
Cloud sighed in defeat and did as he was told. While Tifa went to take her shower, Cloud's eyes were drawn to the only other object in the room: a piano. It looked just like the one she had in her room in Nibelheim. He sat down and played for a while, the familiar notes a small comfort.
Tifa returned, her face a warm smile. "Your playing is good," she said.
He stood up, a blush on his cheeks. "I'm not even half as good as you are."
"So, where are we going?" he asked.
"To the bar," Tifa replied, her tone unconvincing. "Barret wants to meet there."
"What for?" Cloud asked.
"I don't know," Tifa said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. But Cloud let it go. When they opened the door, they were surprised to find Jesse still sitting outside. She smiled at them and said, "Busted."