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Cloud felt a weight sitting heavily against his chest throughout the night. Even after returning to the room, sleep had refused to come easily, and although Barret's snoring had been loud enough to wake the dead, Cloud knew better than to blame the noise. It was Tifa. Their conversation. If it could even be called a fight. They rarely fought, and that was perhaps what unsettled him most about it. There had been no shouting, no anger, nothing he could point to afterward and say this was where it went wrong. Just words that had somehow found all the places inside him that were already sore. He wanted to blame the exhaustion, the events of the last two days, the strange visions that had been following him, anything that would make what happened feel less like his fault. But he couldn't. He had listened to the darker thoughts in his head, to that insidious voice that sometimes sounded far too much like Sephiroth, and he'd let it speak for him.
He needed to apologize.
More than that, he needed Tifa to know that he hadn't doubted her. Not really. The problem was that there were things inside him that existed long before he'd ever understood them, things that reached back into memories he couldn't always trust. He had spent years believing Tifa was dead. He remembered seeing her in the Nibelheim reactor, crumpled on the floor in a spreading pool of blood, her skin pale, her body frighteningly still. He remembered believing that he had lost her. Then, years later, she had appeared in Midgar alive, standing in front of him as though the Planet itself had decided to give him back something he had already mourned.
A miracle. That was what he had called it and perhaps that was why the scar on her chest could still make something inside him seize. The thought flashed through his mind without warning.
A slash of pain.
Blood.
Tifa…
Cloud doubled over, one hand braced against his knee as the world seemed to tilt beneath him. He squeezed his eyes shut. Something had been there. Something he had almost remembered. He reached for it instinctively, but the harder he tried, the further away it seemed to slip. When the pain finally receded, he straightened slowly, breathing through his nose.
He couldn't remember what he'd been thinking about. Again.
Cloud stared down at his hands. The headaches were becoming more frequent. So were the blank spaces, those strange little stretches of time where a thought would vanish before he could grasp it, leaving only the uncomfortable certainty that something had been there. He didn't want to talk about it with the others. He didn't want Tifa worrying. He didn't want Barret asking questions he didn't know how to answer since it was just part of being a SOLDIER. At least, that was what he wanted to believed.
He found Tifa outside the inn in Kalm, and slowed when he saw her standing near the old water tank, her dark hair shifting gently in the morning breeze. For a moment, he wondered whether she was still angry with him. Whether she still wanted space. More specifically, whether she wanted space from him.
"Cloud." Her voice was soft.
Something in his chest loosened immediately. "Tifa."
She smiled at him, and there was no accusation in it. No lingering anger that he could see. Just Tifa. "Everyone's off doing their own thing," she said, glancing toward the street.
"I noticed."
There was a brief silence between them before she gestured toward the water tank behind her. "Say... does this remind you of anything?"
Cloud turned to look and the shape of it was enough. A water tower. Nibelheim. A lifetime ago.
A small smile touched his lips before he could stop it. "Yeah. The place where I made a promise to you."
Tifa's expression softened. "You remember the dress I wore? It was one of my favorites."
He could have described every detail. He remembered the color. The way the fabric moved when she climbed. The sandals she'd worn. The little ruffles around the bodice. The way she'd looked when she turned toward him. Still, he hesitated anyway, pretending to search his memory.
"Uh..." His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "The light blue one? With a little green in it?"
Tifa's smile widened. "Yeah."
He looked away before she could see how easily the memory had come. Some things lived in him regardless of how fractured everything else had become. Tifa glanced toward the water tank again, then back at him. For a moment, Cloud wondered whether she'd been testing him. Whether she'd wanted to know exactly what he remembered and what he didn't. There was something almost searching in her expression, but she didn't push.
Instead, she said gently, "You should probably check on everyone else."
Cloud nodded. "You're right." He hesitated. "Catch you back here when I'm done?"
Tifa gave him a small nod. "Yeah."
He turned toward the tavern, where he was fairly certain Barret would be making enough noise to locate him without assistance. He took a few steps before glancing back at her and wondered if she had any idea what she truly meant to him.
***
Cloud adored Aerith.
There was no point pretending otherwise, not even to himself. Somehow, in the impossibly short amount of time they'd known each other, the flower girl had managed to wedge herself into a part of his life he'd never realized had been empty. She was infuriating and bright and endlessly curious. She had a way of dragging emotions out of him that he didn't know how to handle, and despite everything, despite the confusion and the danger and the constant feeling that something terrible was always waiting around the corner, he cared about her.
He loved her.
He knew that much.
It simply wasn't the same kind of love he felt for Tifa.
He didn't know how to explain the difference, even to himself. One was warm and familiar and somehow tangled into the oldest parts of him. The other was bright and unexpected, something that had appeared in his life and refused to leave. Both mattered.
But right now, he could have happily thrown Aerith from Kalm's clock tower.
"You made it. All in one piece?" Tifa asked as he and Aerith finally appeared. Relief flickered across her face when she saw him, and Cloud felt something in his chest tighten. He gave her a nod.
"Sorry we're late!" Aerith chirped from behind him.
"For the love of..." Barret's voice rumbled across the tight space. "Where the hell have you two been?"
Aerith immediately grasped Cloud's bicep with her hands and he startled. "On a date!" Cloud looked down at her hands. Then at her face. What? “Kind of," she added cheerfully.
Kind of?!
His eyes snapped toward Tifa, a part of him wanting to immediately explain himself. "What?" Tifa asked quietly.
Cloud opened his mouth. Nothing came out. No. No, that was not what had happened. They had not been on a date. He hadn't taken Aerith on a date.
Aerith's fingers tightened around his arm, her nails digging into his skin and Cloud gave her a look that should have been enough to make anyone else release him. She merely smiled up at him, apparently delighted by his discomfort.
It wasn't what it looked like and he desperately wanted to tell Tifa that, to explain. But instead, he stood there like an idiot.
Barret continued talking, apparently oblivious to the miniature crisis unfolding in front of him. "Well, that was the last one. Least until things calm down."
Cloud barely heard him. Tifa was still looking at them, a flash of hurt passing through her wine-red eyes and Aerith clung to his arm with enough strength to sway with his movements to try and make her let go.
His stomach twisted. He had strong feelings for Aerith. He knew that. He cared about her deeply, and yet there was something in him, something completely instinctive, that recoiled at the idea of Tifa seeing the two of them that way. It wasn't guilt or jealousy. He couldn't name it but it as something that made his skin feel too tight.
Cloud tried subtly pulling his arm free. Aerith followed the movement without letting go. He looked down at her. She looked back with an expression that was far too innocent. He narrowed his eyes but she just smiled. Of course she knew what she was doing. Good thing she was adorable. Otherwise, he might have actually shoved her off. He wouldn't have hesitated with anyone else who clung to him like this. Anyone except…Tifa. Tifa could handle him like a toy if she wanted. Pull him somewhere, drag him into a hug, steal his arm, lean against him whenever she pleased.
And he wouldn't mind.
Not even a little.
"Got that?" Barret's booming voice finally cut through his thoughts.
All three of them startled with Aerith finally releasing his arm.
Cloud looked toward Barret, who was staring at the group with the exhausted expression of a man wondering why he had somehow become responsible for herding strays across the Planet. Red nodded, snapping to attention as well.
"Good," Barret said. "Now let's move. Merc, bring up the rear and make sure nobody's following us."
Cloud nodded and the group started forward.
"T—"
He tried to catch Tifa's attention, but she had already moved ahead, passing Aerith and Red without looking back.
Aerith lingered for half a second and turned her head. Looked at him with the most innocent expression and gave him a tiny, knowing wink before skipping after the others. Cloud stared after her then swore quietly under his breath. They were going to have words.
***
“We were not on a date.”
Cloud announced it with considerably more confidence than he actually felt, arms crossed as he stood over Aerith, who was sprawled lazily in the middle of a patch of wildflowers a short distance from their makeshift camp. She had apparently decided that the flowers were more comfortable than the blanket everyone had packed, one arm tucked beneath her head and her boots abandoned somewhere near the edge of the clearing.
They had been walking for hours since leaving Kalm. Hours of dusty roads, uneven terrain and enough monster attacks to make Cloud wonder whether the Planet had collectively decided it didn't want them reaching their destination. They weren't even halfway to the Abandoned Dock yet, and Aerith had spent the last hour complaining about needing a break until everyone had finally surrendered to her persistence.
Now the sun was sinking toward the horizon, painting the sky in soft shades of pink, orange and violet. The day's heat was slowly fading, replaced by the coolness of approaching night.
Red had volunteered to hunt for food. Barret had gone to gather wood for a fire, loudly declaring that nobody was going to freeze to death because they were too stubborn to stop moving. Tifa and Aerith had assembled the tents they'd purchased in Kalm, although Cloud suspected Tifa had deliberately volunteered to fetch water afterward simply because she needed a few minutes away from everyone.
Which left him guarding the camp and Aerith.
The Cetra opened one impossible green eye. "Then why didn't you say so?"
Cloud's jaw tightened. "Because..." He paused. There had been plenty of opportunities. He knew that. "I didn't have a chance."
Aerith closed her eye again with a dramatic sigh. "Yes, you did."
"I was going to."
"When?" He stayed quiet. "Exactly."
Cloud looked away. Aerith stretched lazily among the flowers. "Now Tifa thinks we were on a date before the entire army descended on Kalm."
"But we weren't."
"You didn't correct me."
He looked down at her. She opened both eyes now, studying him with that infuriatingly perceptive expression she wore whenever she thought she'd found something interesting. "What did I tell you back at the clock tower?" Cloud frowned. "About Tifa."
He remembered. He remembered the way Aerith had looked at him, the teasing gone for just a moment as she'd told him not to take Tifa for granted. "Not to take Tifa for granted," he repeated slowly.
Aerith nodded. "Exactly." She pushed herself upright, brushing a few petals from her skirt. "So it's up to you. If you don't correct me when I say things like that, what am I supposed to do?"
"You could stop saying them."
She pouted. "That's no fun." Cloud sighed. Aerith's smile returned. "Besides..." He knew that tone and didn’t like it.
"What?"
"It could have been a date."
"It wasn't."
"It was a romantic location."
"It was a clock tower."
"At sunset."
"That doesn't make it a date."
"We were alone and looking at the view."
Cloud stared at her. "We were having a serious conversation that did not involve anything... date like."
"Sure."
He narrowed his eyes and Aerith's smile widened. Then she noticed it. The faintest flush creeping across his cheeks. Her expression became positively delighted. "Oh, you're embarrassed."
"I'm not."
"You're cute when you're embarrassed."
Cloud opened his mouth, prepared to say something that would probably have earned him another lecture from Tifa about being nice to people.
Then Tifa's voice carried across the clearing. "Got clean water."
Cloud turned sharply.
Tifa was walking toward them with two containers in her hands, her hair slightly windblown from the walk. Her gaze moved between Cloud and Aerith, taking in Aerith sitting among the flowers and Cloud standing over her with his arms crossed and a frustrated expression painted across his delicate face.
Aerith immediately got to her feet. "Perfect!" She skipped toward Tifa, leaving Cloud behind. Tifa smiled at her.
"Red's back with some food. I can cook something once we get the fire going." She looked toward Cloud. "You're coming?"
"Yeah." He nodded. "In a second."
Tifa gave him a small, questioning look but didn't press. "All right."
She turned and followed Aerith back toward camp. Aerith glanced over her shoulder as she went. The tiniest sigh escaped her.
Men.
Cloud watched the two women disappear between the trees before pinching the bridge of his nose. He had a feeling this journey was going to be very long.