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ardwynna · 4 years ago

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The First Real Birthday

For Aerith, on the day of her birth! @aerith-week

It wasn’t much of a cake. More of a large muffin, really. But the child had never had a real one, she was certain. Not much of a real birthday either. A little creativity with the household budget, a bit of careful haggling and trade, and there was enough to do a cake justice. Not enough for frosting, but the cake itself was nice, a light lemon sponge.

It wasn’t quite her mother’s recipe. Not quite enough sugar. One egg less than proper, made up with milk. Margarine and oil instead of rich butter from the farm down the road. There were no more farms down the road, and if her grandmother had caught sight of her using pink lemonade powder mix, the old dame would have had a stroke.

But the family lemon tree hadn’t borne much by the time Elmyra was born, with the steel plate creeping across the sky above it. It had withered and died before she turned twelve, and getting fresh fruit on a slum budget, well…

So the giant birthday muffin was what it was, a little artificial, a little less rich, and really pink. Elmyra pondered the empty packet of drink mix and wondered just how much artificial coloring was in the stuff. Still, the finished product did look pretty, with its thin filling of strawberry jelly and the one birthday candle that she could find. And her girl would be up any minute now. It was going to be such a surprise. Getting her birthdate out of her had been such a chore already, a bigger achievement than even the cake. Elmyra stared at the thing and let out a heavy breath. She hoped it worked.

Sure enough, Aerith came tromping down the steps bare seconds before the underplate lights flashed on, all washed and scrubbed and her hair flying loose, ribbon in hand for Elmyra to handle. She froze on the bottom step and stared at the table.

Elmyra smiled. “Happy birthday, Aerith.”

Aerith’s eyes flicked up at her, then back to the cake. “Is that… mine?”

“Yes, Aerith,” Elmyra said, swallowing. “You never had one before, right?”

The child shook her head and glanced around the room, searching for something. White coats, perhaps, and needles and scans and tests. Everything that her birthday used to mean. One little foot shifted backwards, hitting the stair behind.

Elmyra flew forward and scooped the girl up, right off the ground. “Happy birthday,” she said, breathing the words into the girl’s hair. “Happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday.” She hugged as tight as she dared. Aerith didn’t struggle. She made a tight little cry.

Then, with shaking hands, she hugged back. Elmyra felt the little fingers clinging to her sleeves. She swayed back and forth with her girl in her arms and made her way back to the table. She hooked a chair with one foot and pulled it out just enough for sitting. She slumped into it, swooping Aerith into her lap as she did.

“Happy birthday, Aerith,” she said one more time, rocking the girl in her arms. She listened for sobbing. She waited for tears.

There were none. Aerith took a deep breath and turned her head towards to the modest breakfast spread. She stared a while. “I never had a birthday cake before.”

Elmyra pressed a kiss to the side of Aerith’s head. “Well, I think it’s about time you had one, dear. Now come on, let me fix your hair.”

Aerith slid off Elmyra’s lap and let her new mother fix a fancy braid for the occasion, keeping her eye on the cake the whole time. “What kind is it.”

“Strawberry lemonade, I suppose,” said Elmyra, past the ribbon in her mouth.

“Is that why it’s pink? That’s so cool! Are we going to have cake for breakfast?”

“A little, but you’re going to have a proper breakfast and juice too. Nutrition first.”

“Are you going to light the candle? Do I get to blow it out?”

“Of course you do,” Elmyra said, tying off the braid. Aerith hopped up and down in place. Then she turned.

“Do you think they’ll visit?”

Elmyra knew who she meant. She fought off the cold chill of the thought. No more tests. No more scans. No more birthday things that weren’t what birthdays should be. “They better not,” she said, moving to bar the door. “No cake for them.”

Aerith grinned. “Nope. None at all.”

#aerithweek #aerithweek2021 #aerith gainsborough #Aerith #ffvii

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rune-writes · 4 years ago

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Rekindled Hope

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

@aerith-week » Day 7: Cherish the Memories

Word count: 2482

Rating: G

Summary: A brief look into the times Kunsel visited Aerith at her church after Zack went missing. Two people in grief. Two people seek company in each other.

Note: A little late entry for Day 7′s prompt, featuring Kunsel!^^ (because ever since I saw his mail to Zack where he spoke about Aerith’s broken wagon and her refusal to accept his help because she’s still waiting for Zack, I just need to see their interactions).

Part 3 of Follow the Yellow Flowers: Aerith Week 2021

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

He came again—the friend—sauntering over to the flowerbed, then lounging on one of the wooden benches. He sat with his arms resting over his thighs as he folded his fingers loosely together. “How are you?” he’d ask. “How’s the garden? How are the flowers? How about your mother?” How, how, how, as if it was genuine interest and not some kind of obligation he’d felt toward his missing friend. He always kept his helmet on, ever since that day he’d taken it off and introduced himself.

The man—boy?—was around her age. He had come knocking on the church’s door before pushing it open enough for him to slip through. Aerith had looked up then, fighting against the urge to jump and grin and say, Welcome home, Zack, because she’d gone through that scenario in more times than she could count, and not once had it been her SOLDIER with the sky-blue eyes. Reno had come one time with that swagger in his gait, grumbling at what a pain Tseng had been for putting him under babysitting duties; Aerith had frowned at him and said, “Well, go, if you don’t wanna babysit me.” Another time had been Rude, who had entered the church with a small basket in his hand. He had apparently visited her house, and her mother had told him to bring her something to eat. He’d said nothing much, just stood in the corner with that unperturbed coolness. And when Tseng came to visit a few days after that, Aerith had been prepared, rising to her feet just as the door slid open.

“What now?” she’d said, arms folded over her chest.

Tseng had crossed the large hall with a small smile playing across his features. “Have Reno and Rude bothered you so much that you won’t give me a simple ‘hello’?”

“Even if they hadn’t, why should I?”

Her voice had been testy, but Tseng had only scoffed, soft and amused. He’d remained silent, facing her with that impeccable smile.

Aerith’s lips had pulled into a taut line. It had been a struggle to maintain her anger, if only because she’d had no energy left to stay angry. Not after she’d spent months waiting for someone who never came. She’d dropped her gaze, the tension leaving her shoulders in a quiet sigh. Wordlessly, she’d turned around, then crouched before her flowerbed. The yellow lilies had gazed at her, offering what little comfort flowers could give. It had been a moment before Tseng moved to her side and helped her tend her flowers.

So when, some time later, the church’s heavy doors creaked open once more, a part of her had expected it would be one of the Turks, checking up on her as part of their daily routine. But it hadn’t been those men in black striding toward her. The person had worn none other than the SOLDIER garb she’d come to miss. A different color, she’d noted—a dark, muted purple. But it had been still a SOLDIER garb, with a SOLDIER helmet, and the person had paused mid-step on his tracks, gave a slight tilt of his head followed by a small nod, before resuming his walk and stopping in front of her.

“Are you Aerith?” he’d asked.

Aerith had blinked, surprised. How had this person known her name? Had the Turks sent a SOLDIER instead to watch over her? She’d given him a quiet nod, then seen a smile blossoming on his face.

“Good, I was afraid I got the wrong person.” His voice had been light, sweet. He’d reached up and lifted the helmet off his face. A sharp, strong jawline; sculpted cheekbones; and dark brown hair that fell over his forehead; but it was the eyes that caught her attention—bright blue like the sky, rimmed with a Mako glow.

Just like him.

With the smile still plastered across his face, he’d held out his hand and said, “My name’s Kunsel, Zack’s friend.”

Somehow, Aerith had always evaded hearing that name. A conscious decision, perhaps, or maybe a subconscious one—the way her mind shut off any mention of it. Her mother had never spoken it, and neither had the Turks whenever they visited her. The slum residents had barely known him. Even when the so-called fan club had approached her, her mind had been ready. But when this friend introduced himself, Aerith hadn’t had the chance to prepare herself.

Zack’s friend.

Unbidden, a lump had formed at the back of her throat. Aerith had fought back against the choke as tears sprang to her eyes.

***

The first month Zack hadn’t returned, Aerith had believed when people said he was busy, caught up in whatever assignment the Company had given him. But then three months rolled by, six months, and now it had been well over a year, and there was still no news of his return or whereabouts.

Kunsel rose from his seat and strode over to her, crouching before the flowerbed and reaching to stroke the yellow petals. With his helmet settled over his head, Aerith felt his glance more than she saw it, but he said nothing, then went to pull the weeds sprouting from the ground.

Why exactly was he here? She had figured SOLDIERs would have their plates full, with how many times a phonecall or mission had interrupted her date with Zack. But here Kunsel was, months after he’d introduced himself and seen her cry, months of helping her tend her flowerbed as though he had all the time in the world. He’d offered to fix her cart one time, broken after using it so many times to sell flowers around the slums, but she’d refused and said she’d wait for Zack. Because Zack would come. He had promised her he would.

Kunsel deftly pulled at the weeds, reaching deep into the roots so as not to let them grow again. He moved quietly, scouring her flowerbed for the parasitic plants that would kill her flowers. The pile on his side grew higher with each passing moment. When he was about to go to her side, Aerith spoke up.

“No, I’ll—I’ll take care of this side.”

The SOLDIER looked at her. Even through his visor, Aerith could still see those familiar Mako-rimmed eyes. Her heart clenched. She only spared him a glance before dropping her gaze back to her chore.

“Alright,” she heard him say. She watched him from the corner of her eye, at the efficient way he moved as he cleaned his side of the flowerbed. Silent, but still a reassuring presence.

When had it started—when she’d started looking forward to his visits more than she would admit? She’d told him one time he hadn’t needed to help with the flowers, but Kunsel had only given her a sideways glance and said, “You let Tseng help.” No, she hadn’t. She’d told Tseng the same, but true to his character, Tseng had never listened to her. Not once. But maybe that’s not true, now that Aerith thought about it. Tseng never brought her back to the lab, and he had lent his phone that time she had wanted to call Zack. The man had known her since she was little, and despite whatever true intention he and his men had behind their visits, Aerith was grateful for the Turks’ company—as grateful as she had grown to accept Kunsel’s too. Because having someone else beside her… it helped keep the sadness at bay.

With that thought in mind, her next words rolled out of her tongue instinctively: “I started writing letters.” She felt his glance, felt the quiet surprise, but Aerith only focused her attention on the rhythmic way her hands pulled at the weeds.

Her admission made it true—those nights she’d spent staring at her ceiling. Worry had gnawed at her heart, wondering what had happened to Zack, wondering where he was and what he was doing and if he was okay. Everyone said he might have moved on. Her mother had said to forget about him. And Aerith wanted to, if only she could.

She was never a stranger to loneliness. She had spent her days alone in Shinra’s lab, then spent more days alone in the slums. None of the kids had played with her. The only friends she’d had were the flowers. Yet when Zack crashed through her church’s roof and fell onto her flowerbed, everything had changed. The church that had once offered her solace became a source of joy. She’d started playing a game of when-would-Zack-visit-again, and sometimes, when Aerith opened the massive double doors, she would find him already waiting for her with a grin radiant like the sun.

Across the flowerbed, Kunsel still stared at her. Aerith gave a little shrug as she said, “For a few months now, I think? Mom told me to. She hated seeing me so… down for so long, so this one night, she came up to me and asked me what I wanted to do. That if I can’t reach him by phone, I could try writing to him. Who knows? Maybe he’d read it, no matter how busy he gets…”

Busy… As though being “busy” was the one thing that had kept Zack away. As though nothing bad could have prevented him from coming home. Every time Aerith voiced her concerns to Tseng, he had always been quick to say that Zack was fine. That the company was keeping him busy for longer than anyone had expected. But Tseng had always been a trained liar, and there had been no doubt he was lying to her.

Aerith sneaked a glance at Kunsel, gauging his reaction. Would he lie to her too? But Kunsel had his eyes fixed on the weeds at his clutch, his jaws set as his gaze took on a hard glint.

“Busy, huh…” His grip tightened, his knuckles going white. “If only that’s all there is.” He pulled the weeds with all his might. Dirt burst out in a sprinkle of dark brownish matter, showering his lap, his hands, his boots. Kunsel stared at the now-lifeless plant on his palm. “That’s what we wish, isn’t it? That he’s just too busy to check his phone or that he’s stuck somewhere with a low signal. But… is that all there is?”

“What do you mean?”

“The news, that Zack might’ve been—” His breath catching on the word, Kunsel pursed his lips. But Aerith knew what he meant. Killed in action. She’d heard. When those fan club people had approached her—they might not have realized, but she’d heard snippets of their conversation. Her fingers twitched, a muscle fluttering along her jawline. Aerith didn’t believe it.

Across from her, Kunsel cleared his throat. “I never believed it. Not one bit of it. I know he’s out there somewhere, and the Company is hell bent on keeping it a secret.”

Aerith blinked in surprise. “How are you so sure?”

“Because I tried looking for him, and they cut my search short.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Aerith stared at Kunsel, trying to make sense of his words. Was Kunsel insinuating that Shinra was the reason Zack went missing?

Kunsel’s face was hard as he returned to his chore, his movement swift and efficient. Before long, he’d cleaned the entire flowerbed, even the section Aerith had meant to clean herself. He gathered all the weeds, then rose, bringing them to the trash can outside the church. When he returned, the hard glint was gone. In its place was a brilliant beam.

“Have faith, Aerith. He’ll come back. One way or another, he’ll come back for sure. He promised, didn’t he?”

Aerith stared at him, at that conviction that was so strong, so bright, so contagious. It made her own hope flickered back to life. She had not yet felt his soul pass her by—the way Elmyra’s husband’s had after he died in Wutai. Zack was still out there. She was sure of it.

“Is that why you’re here?” she asked then. “To give me hope?”

Her question had taken Kunsel off guard. It showed in the widening of his eyes and the slight slackening of his jaws. Her mouth quirked into a little smirk, Aerith snorted, turning away to hide her laughter behind her hand.

“Hey,” he said, and she heard the amused chuckle in his voice. Kunsel snorted, then scoffed. “For your information, I’m Zack’s best friend. You ask every SOLDIER, grunt, or even the Turks who Zack’s friend is and they’re gonna say me. I know everything about your boyfriend, including how head-over-heels in love he is with you. So, if you ask me why I’m here…”

His voice trailed off. The way Kunsel had nonchalantly bragged about being Zack’s friend had made her want to laugh, but seeing his face now, seeing his melancholic smile… Aerith pursed her lips.

Kunsel lifted his face and stared at the hole in the roof. In a voice so low that Aerith had almost missed it, he said, “I promised I’d look after you, so that’s what I’m gonna do.”

A shift in the clouds outside gave way to sunlight slanting in through the hole. It shone on Kunsel’s helmet, making the metal sparkle. In another timeline, had she met Kunsel when Zack was still here, would they have become fast friends without this sorrow hanging over them? Laughing and joking around as the boys visited her at the church.

Kunsel shielded his eyes at the blinding sun. “It’s sunny outside. Wanna have a walk?” Those sky-blue eyes were bright and clear, Aerith found the sight of them didn’t hurt her anymore. Still a twinge of pain, but nothing she couldn’t handle.

Aerith rose to her feet. She brushed her hands against her dress, then stretched her arms over her head. Holding her hands behind her back, she followed Kunsel’s gaze and, for the first time in a long time, looked at the sliver of blue between two metal plates. She held her gaze, even as her heart constricted at the sight of it.

When you come back from your assignment, let’s go sell flowers under the sky together. I won’t be afraid if you’re with me.

A lump formed at the back of her throat, Aerith pressed her lips in a thin line. The flowers on her feet swayed in a nonexistent wind, as if trying to comfort her. As if trying to say, he’ll come back.

Aerith threw Kunsel a sideways glance. The SOLDIER was looking at her with an inviting tilt of his head. “Sure,” she said, and felt her lips parting into a small, genuine smile, one that came from her heart. “Let’s go. And you can take your helmet off if you want. Isn’t it stuffy?” She met his look of surprise with a grin, before heading off to exit the church.

~ END ~

#aerithweek #aerithweek2021 #aerith gainsborough #kunsel #zack fair #zerith #final fantasy #final fantasy vii #ffvii #ff7 #ff7r #fanfiction #ff fanfic #ff7 fanfic

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