#<- archival tags. i count this as lore too. need to add tags to some recent posts cus i keep forgetting

[moonchild-in-blue]

There's something really poignant in the way Vessel starts the album with "Will you listen" and finishing it off with "I will be what I am", and the way those two songs use the same staccato synth to create a loop.

EIA is filled with identity crisis - he doesn't know who is/was; there are two of him that need to co-exist somehow; he's not the same as before but still himself. Musically speaking, this album pushes genres and boundaries in ways that are certain to alienate certain groups of people. And he knows all that.

He is asking us to actually listen to him, to the music, and ends with an unapologetic statement. This is me, this is what you get, this is what will always be. And as you loop the album, the "will you listen" question is ever present in the way he gets uncomfortably honest about who he is, and all the things that have transpired before (some significantly more recent).

"Stick to me, walk beside me; stride by stride together; show me how to dance; drift with me."

If we just listen and embrace him, embrace Sleep Token for all that they are, maybe we can actually dance forever - as a team. Together.

[ao3feed-moonknight]

Watch Over You Like The Moon Guards The Stars

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/gYLBp6y by Writeraid Thea Kaplan became the avatar of the Greek Goddess Artemis at Fifteen and A Half Years Old as a result of her attempt to run from her past. She's no superhero, but she can handle the occasional monster here and there. She doesn't need anyone's help. Now, at Sixteen, she finds herself with her hands tied, and no other choice but to ask for assistance from the avatar of the Egyptian Pantheon's equivalent. Good thing they aren't in any way related to this Taxi Driver she vents to sometimes..right? OR: The Moon Boys meet a teenager who just so happens to be the avatar of another Moon God... add some good ol' trauma in there and cue accidental child acquisition. Layla's in here somewhere too. Words: 500, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Moon Knight (TV 2022) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Thea Kaplan (OC), Marc Spector, Steven Grant (Marvel), Jake Lockley, Artemis (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Layla El-Faouly, Khonshu (Marvel), Original Characters Relationships: Marc Spector & Original Character(s), Steven Grant & Original Character(s), Jake Lockley & Original Character(s), Marc Spector & Steven Grant & Jake Lockley, Layla El-Faouly & Steven Grant, Layla El-Faouly & Jake Lockley, Layla El-Faouly & Original Character(s), Layla El-Faouly/Marc Spector Additional Tags: Trauma, Past Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Which is NOT done by any canon characters, I mean unless you count Khonshu in some ways, but that's it, Hurt/Comfort, The Moon Boys are here I promise they just don't start showing up until the second chapter, My First AO3 Post, ...and of course it's an OC centric fic, Jake Lockley Speaks Spanish, Author does not, Protective Marc Spector, Protective Jake Lockley, Protective Layla El-Faouly, Protective everyone honestly, Original Character is a teenager, So that means GEN Z HUMOR, Accidental Child Acquisition, basically anyway, Original Character has OCD, Author Does Too, Original Character speaks German, Author speaks..a small amount, Author does not have DID, So please yell at me if there's a mistake with that aspect, OC is lowkey a self-insert I am so sorry, Marc/Layla is basically just 'His wife' and that's it, This is what happens when you watch the Percy Jackson Show and Moon Knight back to back, No Beta we die like any sign of greater MCU canon in this fic, There aren't enough Moon Knight Fics with this trope and I personally think thats a crime, I honestly have no idea what I'm doing, A Moon Knight Fic? In 2024!? It's more likely than you think!, SO, this is TECHNICALLY post season 1, but like in a weird AU, Don't think about it, I have a tendency to write the boys as having ocd without noticing it, I apologize in advance, What am I doing read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/gYLBp6y

[monsieur-hadrien]

Quarantine Harry Potter Fanfiction *READING LIST*

I’ve spent the past months reading copious amounts of fanfiction and now my amount of AO3 bookmarks is absurd. I really need to share these because if I don’t I think I might implode. Drarry-centric but not all!

These are in no particular order nor is there a particular time frame that these were all posted. I have a little bit of everything in here just you wait.

On Punching Gods and Absentee Dads by Enigmaris 

56 Chapters, 247k Words, Complete, no slash, T Rating

Marvel, Norse Mythology, Harry Potter Crossover

TW: Past Abandonment

Harry finds out that his dad is alive, has been the whole time. Instead of being overjoyed, Harry's disgusted. His dad left earth and abandoned his friends. Every painful thing he's ever gone through can be traced back to one man. Now Harry's got super strength he can't control and an almost unnecessary amount of magical power. His dad might be living it up with the Avengers now but not for long. With the help of his friends, Harry comes up with a plan for revenge. Get ready Avengers, Harry's out to punch a god.

We’re starting off strong with a Marvel crossover fanfic wow. Who knew that crossovers could be done tastefully as 2013 Wattpad kind of ruined it for us. However, this fic changed my mind! This fic is funny as fuck and is just a goodass time. I love a good multi-chapter fic (as you’ll soon see) and this one is a showstopper.

The Man Who Lived by sebastianL

42 Chapters, 254k Words, Complete, Draco/Harry, E Rating

TW: Major Character Death, Graphic Deptictions of Violence

Draco breaks a cup, and one thing leads to another. A story of redemption, tattoos, dreams, mistakes, green eyes, long conversations, and copious amounts of coffee.

With all of the Black Lives Matter protests happening right now, I think that this fic is super relevant. Draco has moved to New York City and is working as a receptionist at a tattoo shop and a mentor for inner city kids, but he accidentally gets forced to work out his differences with Harry, who at this point hates his guts. This fic is pretty serious, tackling themes of mental health, suicide, and police brutality. Every OC in this story is completely lovable and I cried my eyes out many times. When people ask me for a fic reccomendation this is the one I give people. Dare I say that this is my all-time favorite fic.

Warm Bodies by Betty_Hazel

Work in Progress, 37 Chapters as of 6/12/2020, 108k Words, Draco/Harry, E Rating

TW: D/s Dynamics, Graphic Porn, Dubious Relationship with Food

Draco Malfoy has spent his whole life wanting to go down on his knees for other men, and that's by far the least of the depraved things he fantasises about. He's wanted it all for so long that he's stopped believing that there might be someone out there who might be able to give it all to him; it comes as something of a surprise to find that maybe Harry Potter can, and that maybe Harry's looking for something too.

ALRIGHT MY PORN LOVERS THIS ONE IS FOR YOU! Don’t lie I know you’re horny. Somehow this fic is so fucking gorgeous and sweet yet so sinfully hot. It’s literally two boys who have never felt like their emotional needs have been satisfied learning to help and love each other like how much more wholesome does it get. I mean it’s all fine and wholesome until you get to the kinky sex which is WONDERFULLY WRITTEN MIGHT I ADD! I always say that if porn can make you feel something other than just horny, you’ve found a winner, and this story does just that.

Definitely check all the tags and I mean all the tags before you read this, but this is definitely one of my favorite porn with plot stories.

Running On Air by eleventy7

17 Chapters, 75k Words, Complete, Draco/Harry, T Rating

TW: No Archive Warnings

Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects. 

Might I just say that classics are considered classics for a reason. This is one of those stories that has the vibe of high school summer after senior year where all you do is try to escape reality and figure out your place in the world. While the plot is wonderful and the characters are great, I think what shines the brightest from this story is the writing style. It’s so enchanting and poetic with the best one-liners that make your heart hurt. On my AO3 bookmark i captioned it, “This just ripped my soul in half and restitched it together again,” and I still stand by that.

Lokison (Series) and How To Train Your Godling (Series) by sifsshadowheart

Main Story (Lokison): 33 Chapters, 244k Words, Completed, Harry/Various Characters, E Rating

14 Spinoffs/ Sequel Stories, Completed, Harry/Various, Various Ratings

Norse Mythology, Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, Various Fandoms Crossover

TW: Major Character Death, Graphic Violence, Underage Sex, Spiralling Mental Health

James and Lily Potter had a secret, one which led to Thanatos saving young Harry from a dreary life with the Dursleys and changed the face of the Second British Wizarding War before it ever began.

This story feels much more like a 12 season television show than a two hour movie if you know what I mean. The plot is pretty slow going but the character development and interation makes it worth it. The story blends the lore and events of the HP and PJO to make a completely new story without making it feel like a goddamn recap. The reader follows Harry from when he’s young all the way into adulthood and it’s a fun time to watch him grow as a character and bond with his parental figures. Also some of the spinoffs are really wild and I never would have thought of the pairings but they just work somehow?? My personal favorite spinoff is the Pirates of Caribbean/Calypso and Leo arc like HELLO?! hot pirates. The total word count of the two series is 465k so beware it takes a hot second to chug through this one.

This Worship of an Extinct Fire by Lomonaaeren

Oneshot, 30k Words, Draco/Harry, M Rating

TW: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Deppression

Unspeakable Draco Malfoy has planned for nearly six months how to take down Thomas Linwood, a man who has discovered the secret of converting wizard bodies to pure magic. He was prepared for anything--except the discovery of the missing Harry Potter in Linwood's compound.

This one, I don’t know how it’s not considered a classic. I’ve seen it floating around on drarry tumblr and wow is it good. I especially like the detailed magic system and mechanics that Draco is investigating. How the author managed to have so much detailed and gracefully planned out backstory in 30k words is beyond me. Also gentle Dracoo Malfoy is my favorite Draco Malfoy :) absolute angel mode.

Little Compton Street (One Rainy Night in Soho) by LLAP15 and Writcraft

Oneshot, 66k Words, Draco/Harry, Past Sirius/James, E Rating

TW: Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Light D/s Dynamics, References to Cancer, References to HIV/AIDS

Draco is lonely, Harry hates the press and it won’t stop raining in London. Harry discovers a magical street that’s close to disappearing forever and Draco realises he’s one rainy night in Soho away from finding everything he’s been searching for.

This fic is, in every sense, a masterpiece. Especially for pride month, the story surrounding LGBTQIA+ activism, the AIDS Epidemic of the 80s, and the gentrification of historically queer communities is one that should be read by everyone. Every single place, OC, and historic event has real world ties and is historically accurate, making this fic even more enchanting. Everything about this fic is graceful and slow burning I can’t help but fall in love with it. I’ve only seen this fic once on HP tumblr, but I feel like it should be considered a classic as it is truly a moving piece. This fic is one of the biggest reasons why I became so enthralled with LGBT history and am writing a fic that takes place in a wizarding version of the AIDS epidemic.

Sensitive Touch by Raserwolf

45 Chapters, 194k Words, Complete, Draco/Harry, E Rating

TW: Racism and Racial Slurs, Homophobic Slurs, Ablism and Ablist Slurs, Rape and Sexual Assault, Sensory Overloads and Mental Breakdowns, Extreme Bullying and Hate Crime, Past Abuse, Anxiety Disorders, PTSD wow this is a long list

When Draco Malfoy encounters a struggling and frustrated Harry desperately trying to tie his shoes after a meltdown in the Great Hall, his curiosity regarding the incident leads him to seek the help of the two people closest to Harry: Ron and Hermione.

After even they are shocked to hear the extent of Harry's issues, though Hermione had her suspicions, he discovers more about the man than he ever thought he knew before.

As a Neurotypical, I found this fic to be absolutely wonderful. I don’t know much about the typical traits of those who are one the autism spectrum and how they affect their everyday lives, but from what I was reading in the comments from those who are on the spectrum or who have family who are, this fic was pretty accurate and realistic. Harry, who lives with aspergers, goes without a known diagnosis until 8th year and it’s just heightened by his PTSD and anxiety and ugh I just want to hug the boy. The story follows Harry and Draco and the rest of the 8th year gang through the year and has multiple arcs in which the wizarding world are just dumbass bitches who can’t fucking seem to accept people for who they are. Not only is Harry on the spectrum but he’s also Desi with a purpose and not just mentioned and forgotten which is wonderful. The boys go through a lot of trauma in the story but there’s also a lot of teeth-rotting fluff that I live for. This is one of the fics that I have read and reread because I love it so much.

This definitely is not my full list I have a ton more stories in my bookmarks if you are curious. I’ll probably post a part two to this just cause I have so much and read so often. These, however, are definitely the biggest highlights.

[tngrayson]

A New Life - Ch.7 - Blade

A/N:  This story is a slight AU that begins roughly around season 9.  Reader is Cuthbert Sinclair’s daughter. I do not own Supernatural or any of its respective characters. Only this story’s plot. 

Characters: Reader, Cuthbert Sinclair, Sam, Dean, Castiel

Pairing: eventual Dean x Reader, Castiel x Reader (platonic)

Warnings (story): Violence, adult situations

Warnings (this chapter): none

Word Count: 1500

Summary: When you decide it’s time to leave the nest, your father points you in the direction of the bunker. What happens when two strangers show up in your new home?

Catch up here

Dean woke early the next morning. Carefully he pulled his arms from around you, trying not to wake you. He figured you’d be exhausted from the hunt, so he opted to let you sleep a little longer. 

You woke up an hour or so later, well rested and in Dean’s bed. Stretching your arms out, you were surprised to find that he wasn’t there. You looked over at the clock on the nightstand, hopping up when you realized it was nearly afternoon.. 

Walking into the Library, you saw Dean pacing, holding a familiar red book in his hands.  You stopped dead in your tracks, knowing what he would probably find within its covers. Your father had a copy of this book in his library at home. Sam looked up at you from his seat, your strange behavior not going unnoticed.

“Hey, you ever hear anything about the First Blade?” Dean asked you, not quite looking up as he continued to pace, flipping a page.

Suddenly, your heart was racing. In fact, you had read quite a few things about the First Blade. It was a nasty thing, a blade that could kill anything--leaving a horrible bloody trail behind it everywhere it had gone. It was rumored to be even worse when it was paired with the Mark of Cain.

Cuthbert would look for the blade off and on, contacting dealers and monsters alike, hoping to add it to his collection one day. Sometimes he would get close, only to lose all traces of it for years at a time. The stories from the lore would give you nightmares as a child, and as a teen you would try to talk your father out of trying to find it when he would get obsessed, arguing that there was no way to have the mark as well since Cain was the last person known to have it and, “what’s the point of searching for one when you know you can never have the other?” He would always smile and respond with, “Pumpkin, If I ever find Cain I’ll put him in my Zoo too.”

“Y/N?” It was Sam.

You blinked, and they were both staring at you now. Crap. “What?” you asked, pretending you hadn’t heard them before.

Dean spoke up, dropping the book to his side. Your eyes were locked on it. “The First Blade. Ever heard of it?”

“No.” You spoke with finality.

“Really?” Sam frowned, searching your face, “You’ve read everything, I’m surprised.”

You swallowed thickly, prying your eyes away from the book in Dean’s hand and trying to calm yourself. “I…I’ve never heard of it.” You lied, hoping it was convincing enough as you turned to make a hasty exit.

You power walked down the hall, heading for the wall of files in the Dungeon to hide away anything else they would find on the First Blade or the Mark of Cain. Even though it could kill anything, you would never have suggested it to Sam and Dean as an option for ganking Abaddon. The price was too high and you were terrified of the monster it would no doubt make out of Sam or Dean over time. Finding the folders you were looking for, you tucked them under your arm and headed for the garage.

Standing at the side of your blue Corvette, you cast a quick glamour on the files. Now, to the common eye, they would look like they only held recipes. You tucked them into your go-bag and hopped in the driver seat and hauled ass out of the Garage. You would have to find another way to kill Abaddon.

You pulled out your phone, dialing your father’s number.

“Hi, Pumpkin! How are things in the fortress?”

“Things are good, Dad.” You were so happy to hear his voice on the other end, it had been weeks since you last talked.  “Could I come by in a bit?”

“Of course, Y/N. You don’t have to ask, you know that. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just…I’ll talk to you when I get there-“

“Great! Listen, Pumpkin, since you’re heading this way, I need you to pick some things up for me.”

Sam and Dean looked after your retreating form in inquisitive silence.

Sam cleared his throat. “Did you two..”

“Nope.” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, I don’t know what that was about.”

“So that was-“

“Weird? Yeah.” Dean crossed his arms, thinking. “You think she’s hiding something?”

Sam pulled his laptop closer. He pulled up the digital index you had been working on off and on since you moved in and searched ‘First Blade.’ Immediately he found one result with a note on the file it could be found in along with some books that mentioned it, including the one Dean had in his hands right now. Sam looked up at Dean. “I know she is.” Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Sam and Dean looked through the Archive, but they were unable to find the files and you were gone.

“She’s not answering her phone,” Dean said, typing up a quick text before tucking it back into his pocket.

You parked your car just off the dirt road.  Stepping out, you grabbed your bag with the archive folders inside it and carefully balanced the boxes your father had you pick up in your arms along with a couple bags of groceries. You were determined not to make more than one trip. Walking to the center of the clearing where the invisible mansion was hidden, you called out, not wanting to set the boxes down only to pick them right back up. “Dad? My hands are full, can you let me in?” You waited for a moment and there was no answer. You huffed, ready to set the things in your arms on the ground when you heard faint whispering of the spell to get inside. Seconds later, a door appeared out of a thick cloud of smoke and you walked through.

The next thing you knew, the boxes were being taken out of your hands and your father was setting them down on the table in the lab.

“How was the drive?” he asked, grabbing a box and opening it. He was set up to catalog the new ‘collectibles.’

After putting away the groceries in the kitchen, you explained how Abaddon was on the loose and you needed a way to kill her before things could get any worse. You didn’t talk much about Sam and Dean, but he was amused to learn that hunters had taken up roots in the Bunker and he was especially interested since they were Henry’s grandsons. You told him how they had begun to look for the First Blade and how uneasy it made you feel.

“Anyway,” you continued. “I don’t think they’ll ever find it, I mean, you’ve been looking for it for as long as I can remember with no luck.”

Cuthbert snickered quietly as he continued going through the boxes, adding the items to his catalog. You didn’t notice.

“We need to find a different way to kill Abaddon, so I took these so they wouldn’t find them in the archive.” You showed him the thin folders you had nabbed and glamoured. “Do you have any ideas?”

He stopped working, resting his hands on the table as he thought about an alternative. You could practically see the gears turning in his head. “Well, you’re not going to want to hear this, but the First Blade and the Mark of Cain would get the job done.”

You sighed, “Dad. I asked you for a different way to kill her.” Your phone beeped again and you pulled it out, revealing a few missed calls, a text from Sam—‘What are you hiding? We’re friends, Y/N. You can tell me what’s going on.’  And a text from Dean—‘What do you know?’ 

You shoved your phone back in your back pocket without responding to the messages. How were you going to explain this to them?

“Maybe we can banish her somewhere or I don’t know…blow her up? you said absently.”

Cuthbert took off his reading glasses, breathing on them and wiping the fog away with a handkerchief as he looked at you. “Those hunters are wearing off on you, I can tell.” You just rolled your eyes at him. “Well, you know what I always say.” You did know what he was going to say. “There’s a spell for damn near everything,” you spoke in unison. “You just have to find it,” he finished.  

“Will you help me research later, then?” you asked as you made to leave, ready to get a start on dinner.

“Sure thing,” he said, grabbing the last box. “Or you could just borrow this.”

You turned and walked back to his side as he opened the box. Inside it was a massive, sharpened jaw bone that still had the teeth attached to it. The end was wrapped in a leather coil and had been fashioned into a handle.

“Oh my God.” You stepped back.

Cuthbert clapped his hands, rubbing them together with a huge smile on his face as he picked it up and turned it in his hands to inspect it. “I know! Isn’t she a beaut!?”

Your father had finally found the First Blade.

Feedback is always welcome and highly encouraged. I love to hear what you think of my work.

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[ressarioth]

Hearts and Flowers

Amidst a field of flowers filled with memories, two strangers meet as if by chance. One of them doesn't want to forget, the other is trying to remember. In the end they find that what connects them is more solid than fate: a past that transcends a lifetime.

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen, Other

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Relationship: Aerith Gainsborough & Cloud Strife

Characters: Cloud Strife, Original Character

Additional Tags: Mild Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet, Closure, Reincarnation, Canon Universe, Canon Compliant,Post-Canon, Post Advent Children, Canonical Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Original Character(s)

Chapters: 1/1

Words: 9258

Notes: I felt like the lifestream lore screams reincarnation, so here you go. I'm aware that's not a thing established in canon, but the divergence seemed too small to tag. This is heavy with the memory of Aerith (sorry for dragging up those feelings?), but she doesn't make an active appearance. Cloud's relationship with her prior to her death is relevant though and you're free to interpret it however like. I didn't spell it out so far, but by now you might be guessing what this is about. Anyway, I'll shut up now and let you read.

AO3

The old church in Sector 5 is as quiet as ever but it has started to feel less peaceful. It has been a decade since Cloud encountered Aerith here and the building has become increasingly unstable since then. One stone wall crumbled during the catastrophe that nearly wiped out Midgar and would have destroyed the entire planet. Two years later a large part of the floor was torn up along with most remaining benches and since then the roof has become even more desolate. Pieces of wooden beams and roof tiles have fallen down from it and lie scattered across the place.

Once filled with water which sprouted from a crater where Kadaj's magic hit, the depression spanning across two thirds of the interior is now covered in flowers. They're even growing on top of debris, though some of them get crushed every time another piece comes tumbling down from above. The signs of destruction are never covered up completely, leaving Cloud with a sense of disturbance. It's an unpleasant reminder that nothing lasts forever while simultaneously serving as proof that from something old and broken new things can grow. A circle of life and death, ever repeating in front of his eyes as he stops by to reminisce his late friends.

The memories are no longer haunting as he stands in the doorway every other week, dedicating a few moments of silence to those he lost before returning home to his family. Tifa joined him once, when he stuck the Buster Sword into the top of the stone altar, but hasn't been back here since. To her this place doesn't have the same meaning as to him and she has her own ways of remembering Aerith.

A couple of times he let Marlene accompany him, because she wanted to see the flowers again. Once the roof started to dissemble and parts of it came raining down more frequently however, he decided it was too dangerous for her. As compensation he promised to pick her a small bouquet every time he went. (He still does even though Marlene is sixteen now and has grown out of the need for the ritual. But she always smells the blossoms with a smile when she receives them.)

To Cloud visiting the church is a routine he doesn't want to give up on. He hasn't heard Aerith's voice in years, so this is all he has left. It's where he allows himself to dwell on the memories of her and Zack without them taking over his life. They come up as soon as the ruined building comes into sight and he pays little attention to his surroundings as he walks up to the entrance. Once he's two steps through the doorway however, he realises he's not the only one who has come here tonight.

Cloud stops in his tracks, his eyes on the figure kneeling at the edge of the concave flower bed ahead. It appears to be a young girl in a light blue dress, humming over rustling noises which he suspects are her fingers brushing through the leaves. Since she has her back to him, he can only see her dark curls part at her nape and fall left and right over her tanned shoulders. Preoccupied with the flowers in front of her, she doesn't seem to have noticed his arrival.

Uncertain about how to respond to the situation, Cloud lingers near the entrance. At first he's surprised to find anyone else here, let alone a girl all by herself. Then he feels like he's intruding upon a personal moment, though it might be because that's what he comes here for. The only thing that keeps him from walking back out is worry about the girl. While for now she remains in the relatively safe area near the door, nothing is here to stop her from going further in. He may not know her, but he isn't going to push aside the responsibility of keeping her from walking into harm's way.

As if on cue, the humming stops and Cloud's alertness rises. The girl gets onto her feet and steps into the flower bed, carefully as if to make sure she doesn't trample the blossoms. Panic surges up inside him. Interrupting or scaring her is no longer his concern as he calls out.

"Stop!"

The words echo between stone walls and the girl freezes just three steps down the slope which was once filled to the brim with water. When she whirls around, the flowers rustle around her legs and a few petals fall off. Her brown eyes are wide in surprise as she takes in the company she wasn't aware of having. Though initially startled, she's recovering rather quickly.

"The roof has been coming down," Cloud hastens to explain. "It's dangerous to go any further."

Her gaze wanders upwards as she leans back her head and takes in the wooden beams and roof riddled with holes above her. Cloud isn't sure she grasps the actual danger of it collapsing onto her, but at least she isn't walking any further into the nave. She looks back to him and blinks at him in curiosity.

"Who are you?" the girl inquires.

Cloud doesn't think it will mean much to her, still he answers: "I'm Cloud."

"Cloud," she echoes. "That's a nice name."

The thought never occurred to him. It's his name, a part of his identity. He came to treasure it after thinking that he was an empty puppet, a failed experiment begging to be numbered just to have something to keep him from being no one at all. But he'd never attribute anything to it beyond what it means to him to have a name. So he doesn't know how to respond to the girl's remark. It might be polite to give his thanks, but he feels far too weird about it to actually do so.

"My name's Aurora," the girl introduces herself. Then she quickly adds: "It's a bit of a mouth full, I know."

"Is it?" Cloud questions, because he doesn't get that impression.

"A friend of mine says that it's too long," Aurora explains and tucks a strand of black hair behind her ear. "He calls me Aura for short, though I keep telling him that's not how nicknames work."

It's hard to tell if she's upset about the fact, but she's complaining, so it seems to have some relevance. Cloud doesn't feel like he's good at giving advice, especially to children. Tifa was always way better at handling the kids than him, so he didn't get much practice in the matter over the past decade either. But Tifa is not around right now, so he feels like he should at least give it a shot.

"If you don't like him calling you that you should tell him to stop until he does," he suggests.

Talking things over is something he's been practicing himself. It didn't come naturally, but as he tried he found that it helped him and Tifa a lot to come together. He worked at it with Marlene and Denzel as well, though when they were still younger he wasn't always sure how much he could say or how he should explain things.

"I didn't say I don't like it," Aurora clarifies, "it just makes little sense."

That seems like a strange thing to get hung up on — to Cloud at least. But he reminds himself that things that may seem negligible to him can be of importance to others. Kids in particular seem to have peculiar priorities sometimes, going by what he has learned from Marlene in her younger years. So he tries to level with Aurora as best he can.

"Nicknames don't always make sense," he tells her. "I've been called 'Spiky' more often than I can count."

Aurora gives him a thorough look before pointing out: "You have spiky hair though."

"Okay, bad example," Cloud admits, since he can't argue with her there.

His thoughts drift off, wondering if he can come up with a better example to make his point, but never reaching a conclusion. In the end he isn't really sure if Aurora needs him to pursue the topic further.

A look at her shows him that she seems unconcerned with the matter already. She has turned her back on him once again and lets her gaze wander over the flowers who are filling out most of the building. It's almost like she already forgot about him being there, because the growing vegetation in the ruin is more interesting than him. (If it were so, he couldn't blame her for taking more interest in a flower bed than in a stranger.) But it's not long before she twirls around, her dress swaying over her knees with movement, and gives him another curious look.

"So." Aurora tilts her head to the side a little. "Why did you come?"

There's a strange familiarity about those words which leaves Cloud taken aback, but he can't put his finger on what it is. It can't be the question by itself, because it is far too common in its wording to stick out. Yet something about the way Aurora paused after the "so", something about the intonation she used gives him a strange sense of déjà vu. He blinks twice and misses the moment to give a response.

Aurora is still eying him with interest, but instead of awaiting his answer or reminding him that he still owes her one, she adds another question. "Did you hear the call, too?"

"What call?"

Cloud hasn't heard anything and yet he doesn't perceive her question as strange. His thoughts immediately turn to the few times Aerith spoke to him eight years ago. Did Aerith reach out to Aurora from the lifestream? He doesn't know how it works or why she would speak to an unfamiliar girl rather than him, but it would at least mean that she's still there even though he hasn't heard from her in so long. Reason tells him it's unlikely and yet a part of his heart immediately clings to the possibility while another corner of it stings because Aerith may have spoken to someone else while staying silent on him.

"I don't know." Aurora shrugs. "I was just going for a walk when I felt like something was telling me to come here."

"Oh," Cloud says, the explanation leaving him a little disappointed. His thoughts wander off for a moment before he remembers to answer her question. "No, I didn't hear anything."

My friend though, I've heard her voice a few times after she returned to the lifestream. Cloud doesn't add that. He cannot think of a reason why he should tell Aurora about Aerith. In this place with someone who didn't know her it feels like summoning a ghost he thought he had put to rest. Besides, he's not one to share personal stories with strangers, kids or not.

Aurora casts a look at the flowers surrounding her, a few of them now trampled beneath her feet from her sudden turns. She appears to be around seven years old and curious about the world the way Marlene used to be at that age. Cloud figures it's a part of childish nature to be like that until it gets crushed by reality. That's a bleak notion however and he wants to chase it from his mind. (Marlene is growing into a cheerful young woman, Tifa has regained a lot more of her optimism than she had five years after the destruction of Nibelheim, Aerith was always full of kindness… It might just be him who lingers on some of the dark thoughts of the past.)

"Did you come here for the flowers then?" Aurora wants to know.

It's a close enough assumption. "Yeah."

She turns her back on him and crouches down where she's standing, her attention captured by the white and yellow blossoms once more. They're growing further apart than they used to back in the day when they only occupied the patch between the broken up tiles in front of the altar. The light of the setting sun is falling through the open wall, dying the scenery in a yellow glow.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Aurora comments on the flowers.

Since she's keeping up the conversation, Cloud figures she's not bothered by his presence. Slowly he walks over to the edge of the flower bed, while ensuring to keep what seems like an appropriate distance. He wouldn't want Aurora to feel crowded by him standing directly behind him, but it's also for his own comfort. Even though it's something that got better over time, he still can't help feeling a little self-conscious around new people. (Like his motion sickness it was suppressed while he believed himself to be an ex-SOLDIER but resurfaced once he sorted out his own delusions.)

Now that he's looking at her from another angle, he notices her hands moving between the stems, picking out drying leaves and scattering them on the ground. He's gripped by a vague sense of déjà vu again. Aerith did the same thing during their first meeting, though he never asked her what that was about. Back then he didn't care, now he thinks he should have.

"Yeah," Cloud agrees, his thoughts staying with Aerith as he watches Aurora tending to the flowers. (How often has he stared at the blossoms in his lifetime now?) "A friend of mine planted them here — or maybe they grew here by themselves and she was just looking after them. I…forgot."

It's one of those times when he wonders if memories can become as elusive for anyone or if it's just him that sometimes still struggles to put the pieces together. At first he thinks that he should know, that Aerith told him at some point — she must have! Then he starts questioning whether she ever did. He may have just assumed that she planted them because she was tending to them. She talked about this being the only place in Midgar where the flowers would grow, but beyond that he cannot remember.

Whenever something like this happens he's filled with a weird sense of uncertainty. It's a small reminder of the time when all he thought he was came crumbling down while he was trying so hard to hold himself together by the seems. Back then he lost himself and if it hadn't been for Tifa helping him through he may have never recovered. (He suspects that a part of him never did and it flares up in panic every time something escapes his memory, ready to doubt everything again.)

"Where's your friend now?"

Aurora's voice calls Cloud back from his thoughts and he wonders why she would ask about Aerith's whereabouts. "What?"

"You said your friend was looking after the flowers, but she isn't here now." She has turned in his direction as she's tending to the flowers, but pauses to look up at him with probing eyes. "So where is she?"

"Oh." He stares down, avoiding her gaze, then up as if to find the right words to formulate his answer floating between the rotting beams. "She...returned to the lifestream."

"Returned...to the lifestream? You mean she died?"

Cloud takes a breath and looks at Aurora again. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry," she offers quietly and lowers her head.

Silence spreads as Cloud's gaze wanders. At first he thinks that he doesn't know how to respond to her sympathy, then it slips his mind that he should answer at all. His eyes land on the pool towards the front of the nave where the water once healed him from the geostigma. He heard Aerith's voice as he was ready to chase after Kadaj again and he got the feeling she was watching over him then.

After a moment or two, Aurora inquires: "Do you miss your friend?"

"I guess I do." Cloud crouches down by the flower bed and reaches out a finger to brush over a yellow petal. "It's been ten years. I come here to check on these flowers even though they grow by themselves, because they remind me of her and…I don't want to forget."

Aurora straightens up, barely any taller while standing than he is in his crouched position. Crossing her arms behind her back, she leans forward a bit as if to get a closer look at his face. It reminds him of the way Aerith sometimes used to look at him, but the association must come easy in a place that is filled with memories of her. It seems like a lot about Aurora is reminding him of Aerith and that can only be him projecting.

"Are you sad that she's gone?" Aurora wants to know.

Cloud takes a moment to consider whether he has actually stopped being sad or whether life is just distracting enough for him to not feel it most of the time. When Aerith died in front of his eyes it felt like a wound had been ripped open that could never heal. Yet time has more healing abilities than he would've given it credit for — once he was ready to give it a chance.

"Not anymore, not really," he tells Aurora.

"Really?" She turns away and looks to the front of the nave where Zack's sword is presiding over the water. "I don't think I could ever stop being sad if I lost someone."

The answer that comes to mind probably won't comfort her, but he says it anyway. "It's part of life. None of us can walk this planet forever."

"Then what comes after?" Aurora is still staring at the sword, though he isn't sure if she's actually taking it in or if her eyes went out of focus. "The lifestream?"

"So it would seem," Cloud confirms, putting a hand to the floor to balance himself.

She turns her head slightly in his direction, but her eyes stay trained ahead. "How does that work?"

"I'm not sure," he admits. "Someone once told me that all living things come from the lifestream and also return to it again, but I don't know the details."

"Can people come back?"

The words resound in Cloud's head and he's trying to think of a definite answer, but realises he can't come up with anything. When Bugenhagen explained the lifestream to him and how its energy forms new life and merges with its main current again in a never ending cycle it didn't occur to him that it could include people's lives. So what if they can come back, if they're born and die over and over — is it a blessing or a curse?

It's hard to imagine. He feels like he's lived two lives, but one was comprised of altered memories and a false persona he had created. It was only in his head and it didn't last long before it shattered and he had to pick up the pieces, trying to figure out who he really was. An eternal circle of life and death, like the flowers in this church — it seems possible, almost comforting. Looking at Aurora who can't take her eyes off the Buster Sword he'd liked to think so — maybe.

A new life for Aerith, a happier life even — something like Aurora seems to have. Something where she doesn't have to face hardships as a child. Something where her biggest concern is what to wear or that the nickname her friend uses for her doesn't make sense. No Shinra company to hunt her, no sorrow over her dead mother, nothing that forces her to grow up too soon. Harsh life can wait a little longer before it comes for her, until she's older and stronger. He likes the idea of that though the skeptical voice in his head is telling him that he's getting carried away with unrealistic daydreaming.

"I don't know," Cloud answers Aurora's question. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason." She shrugs and he doesn't know her well enough to judge if her carefree tone is genuine this time. Then there's a shift in her as she turns and looks at him while pointing ahead. "What's the matter with that sword?"

He knows before following the direction of her finger with his eyes that she's indicating the Buster Sword sticking out of the altar. The water used to almost completely engulf the stone table and he had to wade all the way over to place the sword there. Now that the water has long since retreated, moss is growing over the stone where it used to reach.

Feeling his legs getting tense in his current position, Cloud stands back up before he answers: "It belonged to a friend of mine."

"The same friend that tended to the flowers?"

A smile crosses Cloud's face as he tries to imagine Aerith wielding the heavy broadsword. It sure would've been something to watch her beat up monsters with that instead of her staff. But then his thoughts return to Zack who carried the sword with great pride and his amusement dissolves.

"No, another friend." Cloud pauses for a moment, debating whether he should say it. But somehow it seems relevant enough not to keep it from Aurora. "He…died protecting me."

"Protecting you…," Aurora echoes and for a moment her face goes blank as she stares at the sword. But then she snaps out of her thoughts and turns to him with renewed enthusiasm. "Hey, I want to have a closer look at it, can we go?"

"I told you it's dangerous to go beyond this point," Cloud objects. He doesn't know what her sudden fascination with the sword is, but he's not her guardian or anything, so it doesn't feel comfortable letting her take the risk.

"But you're with me," she argues and comes running up to him. "You can protect me, right?" She grabs his hand and pulls at it as she adds: "Let's go together."

Cloud looks down at her in silence, unsure what he should do. Saying no would make him feel bad at this point. But protecting someone from falling debris is harder than guarding someone from monsters. Yet her expectant brown eyes are melting his resolve. He looks up at the broken ceiling as if to gauge what the chances of raining wood are. At the moment it upholds the illusion of stability, almost as if nothing would come down from it ever again. He sighs, because he knows he lost this argument.

"Fine," he relents. "But stay close to me."

Her face lightens up with a smile and she nods. "Okay!"

Cloud keeps his pace slow so Aurora can follow along with ease and guides her around any remains of wooden beams and roof tiles to minimise the chances of her stumbling over them. The whole time she holds on to his hand as if he wasn't a complete stranger to her still. It's like a sign of her trust and she makes it seem natural.

Once they arrive in front of the altar Aurora releases her grip and reaches up to the sword. Her hand barely touches the wide side of the blade sticking out of the stone even as she stands on her tiptoes. Cloud takes a gamble and lifts her up onto the altar, making sure to place her at the right side of the sword where the blade is blunt.

Her expression seems to be a mixture of awed and thoughtful as she takes in the weapon from up close. She touches the metal, singed by rust and with moss crawling up here and there. (Cloud gave up on cleaning it once the roof started coming down. It functions more like a gravestone now and not like a weapon that needs to be kept in shape.) It's hard to guess what she's thinking or why she seems so drawn to the sword.

"Sometimes I have these strange dreams," Aurora begins without prompt, her attention for the weapon still undistracted. "They go away the moment I wake up and I can only remember random images. But there's a sword like this one and I think it's protecting me."

Cloud listens, not sure where this is going. It's hard to imagine that Aurora would be dreaming of this exact sword though, so he figures it may have been some kind of broadsword and she just hasn't seen many of the likes for it to make a difference to her. It catches his interest regardless.

"Hey Cloud." Aurora interrupts her inspection of the Buster Sword and gives him a curious look. The familiarity with which she addresses him makes him feel like they've known each other for longer than this brief encounter. The impression gets brushed aside however as she voices her question: "Would your friend have protected me the way he protected you?"

Though he can't see what she's getting at with this, he answers: "Yeah probably."

His memories of Zack are still muddy. He spent a couple of months not even remembering that Zack existed and instead taking on Zack's place in several of his memories. Though he sorted out the events revolving around the mission to Nibelheim, a lot of his past is still fuzzy. The time he was held captive in the Shinra mansion remains a blank slate which he was never able to fill while his escape with Zack is a collection of random moments. The time he was part of the infantry is somewhere in between. He isn't even sure when and how he met Zack for the first time.

If what Zack did for Cloud is anything to go by though, then he wouldn't ignore anyone who needed help. So Cloud adds: "Zack was the type to do that."

"Zack…" Aurora mumbles as she turns back to the sword, yet her eyes are lowered to the ground in thought. "Zack…" She pauses for a moment before shaking her head with definiteness. "No, it wasn't Zack. He was like Zack, but different."

Surprise, shock, wonder. A sense of reality rippling around him and threatening to slip away like in a dream. Aurora can't possibly know Zack, she is far too young to have ever met him. Still, in this moment Cloud feels like she knows exactly who Zack was. Reason tells him that it can't be. He's imagining things, interpreting meaning into her words that she didn't put there, tying them up with his own memories. It must be some kind of coincidence, that the person she's thinking of happens to have the same name or that she's mixing up the names entirely.

"Aurora," Cloud starts, the thought too pressing to dismiss despite its improbability. "Do you remember Zack?"

"Mhh." Aurora puts her loose fist to her chin in thought. (It's just a gesture, Cloud reminds himself to fight off the familiarity, Aerith wasn't the only person in the world to use it.) "Dark hair, goofy grin, thought he could do anything." She chuckles at the thought before she digresses. "Emil reminds me a bit of him sometimes. But he's not who I'm looking for."

The description matches, yet it's also too vague to say for sure. What catches Cloud's attention though is her mentioning the fact that she's looking for someone. It seems to be the reason why she took interest in Zack and the Buster Sword. At least that is the impression he's getting. He still isn't entirely sure how it's all supposed to tie together — or if it ties together at all.

"Who are you looking for?" Cloud inquires.

"I can't remember what he looked like." Aurora gazes into the air for a moment and sways her upper body in thought, her dress swinging along with the movement. "At first he reminded me of Zack somehow, but there was something else about him." She looks back at the weapon, though her eyes seem to stare through it as her face turns somber. "I think he was lost, but he still tried to move forward."

A strange feeling fills Cloud's stomach. Aurora's descriptions still aren't anything concrete, but it's starting to fit together too well to be a coincidence. As impossible as it may seem, these could be Aerith's words describing him. She once said he reminded her of Zack and though she never made a comment about him seeming lost, maybe that was actually the feeling she got from him. In a way he had lost himself when he met her and maybe she sensed it.

"I wanted to help him but…" Aurora's voice drifts off and he can see her face fall, her eyes still staring ahead. "He came for me — but I couldn't stay. I couldn't help him."

With every word she sounds more upset, but that's not the only reason Cloud's stomach is starting to twist. It's like the past is catching up to him in a way he never expected. You came for me — that's all that mattered. Aerith's words echo in his head as if he'd heard them only yesterday. They were part of what led him to forgive himself for not being able to prevent her death. Learning that she never blamed him was taking one step away from blaming himself.

With his lingering attachment to Aerith it was hard to move on, but eventually he was able to do it — in part through her intervention. He never considered the other side of it. He never thought that Aerith would be the one left with unresolved feelings. Yet Aurora sounds like the ghost of her and he feels less and less like he can shake it off as his imagination going wild. He would never claim to have seen it all, but after everything that he has come across he doesn't believe in coincidences as big as this one would have to be.

These thoughts take a backseat however when Aurora turns to him and he notices the tears rolling down her cheeks. "Why couldn't I help him?"

Cloud's heart stings in his chest as he sees her like that. Whatever her dreams mean — whether she's somehow connected to Aerith's consciousness in her sleep or something else is at play here — he doesn't want her to have to be upset. Without thinking about it, he reaches out and rests his hand against the side of her head.

"Hey, it's okay," he tries to sooth her.

"It's not okay!" Aurora objects and stomps her foot, the outburst causing him to retrieve his hand as suddenly as she moved.

She's right, it isn't. For her it clearly isn't okay. Cloud cannot change that by simply saying that it is. In his experience with Marlene and Denzel as kids they always responded best when he acknowledged their feelings, regardless of whether he could understand the extent of them or not. It seems like the best approach for Aurora here as well.

"You're sad, I get that," Cloud makes another attempt to comfort Aurora. "But maybe you don't have to be. Maybe there's another way to look at it and you'll see that things aren't as bad as you think."

He wants to bite his tongue. Without thinking he addressed her as if Aerith was the one in front of him, upset that she couldn't help him while he just wanted her to see how much she did for him. But she can't be — this girl, Aurora, isn't Aerith and he's doing her wrong by not seeing her as who she is. Troubled and ashamed, he lowers his gaze, his eyes landing where the Buster Sword pierces the stone altar.

Can people come back? Aurora's words pop into his mind and Cloud scolds himself for clinging onto them. But what if people could come back, what if they did? A circle of life and death, starting over again, a soul transformed into someone new. It would explain why Aurora dreams of a life that isn't her own. It would explain why she took such interest in the Buster Sword, why she remembers Zack, why Cloud can't shake the feeling that the one she's looking for is him. It would even explain why she found her way here in the first place, as if a good-willed soul from the lifestream had guided her here so that she could meet him.

It sounds incredible, even to Cloud as he's going over everything in his head. Yet inside him a conviction grows that it's the truth — as much as a fear that in his realisation of this he may cause harm. It's like everything he knows about life and death and the lifestream is coming together and making sense. But even if he's right, even if he's in the middle of discovering something not even a wise man like Bugenhagen seems to know, he can't get carried away with it. As much as Aurora reminds him of Aerith, as much as she seems to have at least some of Aerith's memories, he mustn't forget that she's her own person.

Who knows, maybe she isn't even supposed to remember. It could be Aerith's strong attachment to him that is keeping her trapped in this state. If so, then Aurora might have been guided here so he could help her move on. The thought conjures mixed feelings in him. It's almost like now that he has accepted he cannot be with Aerith, the image of her is presented before him, almost close enough to touch but obscured and already drifting away from him again. Yet a part of him is thankful for the chance to get to be the one helping her for once.

"Are you going to tell me it was just a dream, too?"

Aurora's voice has Cloud look up to meet her gaze. It's challenging just like her tone, despite her being hoarse from crying. He was so caught up in his own head he didn't even notice her sobs subsiding, but she seems to have stopped crying and calmed herself a little. The tears are gone from her face — rubbed dry, he would guess — and her lips are pursed.

"My mum says that's all it was," she continues, "but I know it was more. It was real!"

It would be easy to deny it, to deny that he has any idea of what she might be talking about or any theory as to what is going on. But that's not the answer Aurora is looking for. Whether he's right or not, he feels like he owes it to her for even suspecting that she could've been reborn from Aerith's consciousness: a chance to figure out for herself what this is about.

"I know," Cloud assures her, almost forgetting about caution. "I know it was real."

I know why you're here. I know what your dreams are about. I have lived it after all. He stops himself short from saying it. It wouldn't feel right, as if he was pushing Aurora into a role that may not even fit her. He wants to help her but not by burdening her with his own expectations. That would be selfish. If he's going to do this then it has to be about Aurora and not his own attachment to the person he suspects she used to be.

So instead he asks: "What else do you remember?"

Cloud isn't really sure how this will go. Maybe he'll be able to confirm what his gut is telling him. But he also cannot ignore the possibility that Aurora has access to Aerith's memories for some other reason. All he can say for now is that Aurora seems to be haunted by them. So he hopes that by guiding her along to figure out why she has this connection to Aerith's past he can find a way to release her from it.

While considering his question, Aurora lets her eyes wander around the inside of the building. Then a smile touches her lips and she exclaims: "The flowers."

Looking over his shoulder, Cloud finds her gaze has stopped on a spot in the flower bed near the pool of water.

"This is the only place they would grow and I loved it here. I looked after them, I sold them." With every word she cheers up a little more and his heart grows heavier. Her identification with Aerith is becoming more and more apparent and he isn't sure it's a good sign. "He bought one from me. Then he came crashing through the roof and nearly fell on top of me — gave me a bit of a scare."

Aurora laughs at the mention of it, but it fades when something occurs to her. "Your friend…you said she looked after the flowers here."

It's like Cloud can see the pieces fall into place in her head and the realisation dawn on her face. Something inside him recoils. He doesn't want this for her. She's just a kid, why does she have to remember that life which was filled with so much pain and trouble? Aerith may have seemed like she was handling it well, but thinking back, deep down he sensed that things were weighing her down more than she let on.

"Was I…her?"

Cloud closes his eyes, his face twisting in pain. The answer is yes, he's sure of that now. When he fabricated memories of himself in Zack's shoes a lot of the feelings he attached to them were still his own: the admiration he held for Sephiroth, the pride he certainly would've felt had he made SOLDIER, the anger and grief about his hometown burning. Besides, he was there during it all, he just altered the role he played in it. Yet Aurora only seems to know the events from Aerith's perspective and her accounts felt so authentic in reflecting what must have been Aerith's emotions.

He was like Zack but different. Aerith had said he reminded her of her first boyfriend and only gradually did he learn that she was talking about Zack and that he'd known Zack himself. But despite meeting Cloud only when he was holding the fake persona reminiscent of how Zack used to be, she caught onto something being amiss. I'm searching for you. When she said those words during the gondola ride at the Golden Saucer he didn't understand what she meant. Only after her death when he had rediscovered himself did it start to make sense.

Part of him thinks he should be happy to have found Aerith again, but it doesn't feel right. For all she remembers, for all she knows, Aurora isn't the young woman who asked him to be her bodyguard in exchange for a date. She isn't the last of the Cetra who used her heritage to summon Holy. Aurora is a girl who was born into this world after Cloud fought Sephiroth twice to stop him from destroying the planet. It's not fair that Aurora should have to be burdened by the past like this. Why couldn't she just have a simple childhood for once? After all Aerith has been through, why should Aurora have to suffer for it as well?

"Cloud…you…," Aurora's voice trails off. "Are you the one I'm looking for?"

As Cloud opens his eyes he finds Aurora looking at him with a mixture of wonder and recognition. He doesn't know what to say. Her words up until now leave no doubt: she was searching for him and now she found him — or he found her, whichever it is. If it's true, if she somehow is Aerith or was Aerith, then he thinks he should be happy to get to meet her. But for however much his heart clung to the memory of Aerith, he can't feel joy about recognising her in Aurora. Aurora was crying, because Aerith cared so much for him that even in a new life she couldn't let him go. The thought leaves him with guilt, because it means that indirectly he caused Aurora pain.

"You are, aren't you?" Her words come faster in her excitement. "Yes, of course! Cloud — I remember now!" She tilts her head to the side and studies his face. "You seem kind of different, I almost didn't recognise you."

His tongue is tied. There's so much to say — Cloud thinks there has to be — but not one fitting word comes to mind. Aurora is looking at him expectantly and he cannot guess what she's hoping for, but it worries him. He never thought about the concept of reincarnation before or how it might work, but he knows how hard it is to start over when the past is clinging to one's bones. That's not what a child should have to deal with.

"Cloud, it's me, Aerith."

Frozen to the spot, unable to move. She said the name, he never gave it. It's her, of course it's her. Was there ever any doubt? Part of him knew early on, but he thought he was projecting because he couldn't let go. Now that she has confirmed his suspicion it feels more amiss than ever.

"I can come with you," Aurora suggests with hope in her voice. "This time I can stay."

Cloud shakes his head. A part of him is selfish enough to want to take Aurora up on her offer, but he shuts it down. It's wrong. She's just a kid, filled with a desire she probably doesn't understand herself. If anything, they're Aerith's feelings and they belong to the past, a past that ended years ago.

"You're not Aerith."

Aurora's face falls and he can see the tears well up again. "But I remember it! The time we spent together!"

Her eyes are imploring him, her lips are begging. She is a child indeed and none of Aerith's lifetime can negate that — a child that doesn't want to get left behind. It breaks his heart to tell her no, because he knows it can never work, not like this. He couldn't forgive himself if he allowed for her to get dragged under by those memories he nearly drowned in himself. It caused him to lose touch with his family and friends for awhile — everyone who was there with him but he couldn't see because Aerith's death and his guilt were blinding him. He doesn't want that for her.

"I know you remember." Cloud reaches out and takes hold of her hands. Her cheeks are wet with tears again. "But you're Aurora now. You've got friends and family of your own that have nothing to do with who you used to be. Don't throw that away for a past that can never come back to life. Trust me with this, I know all about it."

"But I…I have to help you," she sniffs, a tear dripping down her chin. "I have to make you happy!"

It hurts how much she clings to him, her small fingers digging into his palms. Still Cloud manages a smile for her, albeit filled with a little sadness.

"I am happy — I'm okay," he assures her. "So now it's your turn. Don't forget to find your own happiness just because of me. I couldn't bear it."

Aurora shakes her head. Her eyes dart upwards as if in search for a response, her mouth is sealed in confusion. Cloud pulls her into a hug and she presses into him. Her face easily rests against his shoulder, the altar upon which she is standing making up for the difference in height. The sobs are rocking through her body and he gently strokes her back.

"You helped me years ago, you just couldn't see it. You helped me to help myself."

Her hands squeeze into the fabric of his shirt and he holds onto her while she's letting it all out. It takes some time but eventually he thinks her breath is calming down. Her tears are going silent or maybe even drying up — he cannot tell, because her face is pressed against his shoulder and way out of his sight.

"It's alright. I'm not alone and neither are you." Cloud references the last conversation they had when he caught a final glimpse of Aerith here in this church. He doesn't know if Aurora remembers that part as well, but even if she doesn't she should be able to understand. That's why he can tell her gently: "You can let go now."

Aurora clings to him tightly. If possible, she wraps her arms around him a little harder.

"It hurts," she says, her voice quiet with a hint of her pain. "It hurts to let go."

"I know."

So he doesn't force her, he doesn't break away from the embrace. She has to be ready to release him. She needs the time to do it at her own pace, that way the pain heals the best. It took him two years, but he wants to have faith that Aurora can do better. Getting to say goodbye makes all the difference.

Cloud doesn't count the seconds, he doesn't guess the minutes. His focus is on holding Aurora and giving her comfort until she breaks away. Once she lets go of him she does it slowly and he deliberately doesn't try to speed up the process. When they're facing each other again, she wipes away the remnants of her tears even though they seem dried up for the most part.

"Better?" Cloud wants to know and she nods. They exchange a small smile, both still recovering from the load of the emotions they just worked through.

It is getting late, the light outside dimming as the sun closes in on the horizon and the air cooling off. Soon it will be dark and no parent likes for their child to be out alone at night, not even in summer. If Aurora's parents haven't been wondering where she's gone off to yet, then they sure must be starting to worry about now.

"I should take you home," Cloud notes, remembering his responsibility as an adult. "Your parents must be worried."

Aurora nods and he stretches out his arms in a silent offer to lift her from the altar. As she leans in and supports herself on his shoulders, he picks her up and puts her gently on the uneven ground. Without question she slips her hand into his and lets him leads the way back towards the entrance. Once they reach the end of the flower bed however, she slows her steps and comes to a halt. Noticing that she's no longer following, he stops and turns around to check on her.

"Can we stay just a moment longer?" Aurora requests and Cloud notices not for the first time that he finds it hard to resist the pleading eyes of a child.

With concern he looks at the darkening sky through the open wall, the last glimmer of sunlight no longer reaching into the nave. He shouldn't allow any more delays, he's the adult and Aurora should get back to her family as soon as possible. But when he looks at her again he finds his resolve melt. After all he wanted to give her the time that she needs to let go, maybe she wants to say goodbye to this place as well.

"Alright," Cloud agrees, though the word leaves his lips with an audible breath. "But really just for a bit."

Aurora nods in affirmation and releases his hand so that she can sit down at the edge of the floorboards, her feet sticking into the flower bed. He watches her with scepticism at first, thinking that the floor is dirty enough to ruin her dress, but she doesn't seem to mind. Then he smiles. It's a little thing like that which makes him think that the carefree days of childhood aren't completely lost on her yet, even if memories of her past life have been on her mind.

Oblivious of his thoughts Aurora looks at him over her shoulder and pats the floor beside her. "Come, sit down."

Cloud wasn't going to, but like this he can hardly refuse. So he settles in beside her and takes in the view of the semi-dark interior of the church. When she leans against his arm, he looks down at her, startled yet again by how familiar she acts with him. But he's willing to let her have this as well.

The shadows have stretched throughout the entire ruin. Cloud decides that once he cannot see any silver lining on the horizon from where he's sitting the time is up. It won't be long before then, but it's the most he feels comfortable to allow at this point. He knows someone must be waiting for Aurora to return home.

Cloud remembers that he couldn't look at Elmyra when bringing her the news of Aerith's death. Tifa did most of the talking and when the tears started to flow he felt dizzy and claustrophobic around everyone in the small living room. Though the worst was probably explaining it to Marlene who asked about the nice lady who protected her from the bad men. Once again he felt tongue tied and had to leave things to Tifa.

It was a strange feeling, like he needed to apologise to them both for letting Aerith die but the words never came over his lips. In the end his guilt was something that couldn't be absolved by anyone but himself. It was Aerith that helped him see that, but it seems she never realised that she succeeded. Maybe that's why Aurora was drawn here, so that she could meet him and let go of the past herself.

Cloud looks down at Aurora who is gazing into the semi-darkness as if it didn't bother her. Her face is shrouded in shadows so he can't make out her expression, but he thinks her sorrow has subsided. He's not sure what's going to happen once he has brought her home. Should he ask her to forget about him, to ignore that he lives in the same city so she can focus on the people in her new life? Could he even do that? He cannot shake the thought that it might be for the better, he cannot shake the feeling that he doesn't really want to.

There's a wish to see Aurora grow up, to watch over her. It stings a little to acknowledge that maybe this wouldn't be in her best interest. After all, how can he expect her to move on from the past when he's around to remind her of it? That wouldn't be fair, as much as he already finds himself attached to her. (He's not sure how much of that is tied to knowing that she used to be Aerith. While his head acknowledges that she's her own person, his heart may not have gotten the memo.)

Closing his eyes, Cloud suppresses a sigh. He'll just have to go with it. When it comes to kids he's doing his best not to be selfish. He told Aurora not to throw away the people in her life for Aerith's past and he's going to stand by it. So if keeping away from her helps with that then he's going to do it. It's not his responsibility to stick around and ensure her happiness, like it isn't her responsibility to do the same for him. He'll have to trust that she will find her way without him.

"Hey Cloud?" Aurora interrupts his musings.

Cloud opens his eyes to find the horizon has gone completely dark. He pushes it aside for the sake of responding to Aurora who seems to have something on her mind. With a low humming sound he indicates that he's listening while he stares ahead, letting his eyes adapt to the dark.

"Can I see you again?"

There's little point in trying to read Aurora's expression, still he turns his head towards her. It's ironic she should ask him this just as he was trying to strengthen his resolve to say goodbye forever. Now she threatens to make it all crumble again with one question.

Cloud needs to buy time to think. There's no prior knowledge he can fall back on about people being reborn. No one can tell him if one is ever supposed to be able to remember one's past life or if that is a dilemma in itself. He can only guess if continued contact to elements of one's previous life did more harm than good. It makes him feel like his choice now carries so much more weight.

"Do you really want to?" Cloud asks in return.

It's hard to tell in the dark engulfing them, but he thinks Aurora gives a nod.

"I want to," she insists. "I promise I won't ignore my family and friends like you said, but that doesn't mean I have to ignore you instead, does it?"

"I suppose it doesn't," Cloud agrees without making any promises.

He wants to say yes. As much as he tells himself to trust in Aurora growing up well and leading a good life, he'd like to be around and see it happen. There are no guarantees it will work out, but he tells himself that if he would turn out to be a disturbing factor then he could still explain to Aurora that it's better if he stays out of her life. Like that he at least would have tried to make it work.

"Alright," Cloud concludes. "Let's give it a shot."

"Yay!" Aurora leans in and gives him a hug from the side, squashing his arm between their bodies. In her excitement she starts babbling: "I'm going to introduce you to my parents. And the baby. Well, it isn't born yet but you can feel it kick in mommy's tummy. And wait till you meet Emil! He's a bit silly sometimes but it's kind of cute."

Cloud smiles at her enthusiasm and lets her lean into him as Aurora rambles. There's a mental image he gets of her introducing him to everyone as her friend from her past life. He should probably ask her to stick to having met him by chance and letting him take her home. The whole truth would probably be a bit too much for most people.

"Okay." Aurora releases him and gets to her feet. "I'm ready to leave now."

His nod is probably lost on her in the dark, but once he stands up beside her, she finds his hand with her own again.

"Let's get you home then," Cloud announces and carefully leads her towards the open door.

Neither of them is looking back as they head out, the near undisturbed scenery inside the church covered in darkness and only interrupted by their footsteps on the wooden tiles. Not even the beams remaining beneath the roof are creaking in the wind tonight. Cloud figures he worried a bit too much about Aurora's safety, but better safe than sorry aside, it was what got them to talk in the first place.

It may have been coincidence or fate which brought them together in this place — he isn't sure how much influence he ascribes to the former and how much he believes in the latter — but it doesn't really matter. Aurora found what she was looking for and he got to return a kindness which was offered to him long ago. What will come of it now, only time will tell.