Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Someone close to you has returned to the Planet.” The words slipped from Aeris’s mouth on the day the world felt different. The day started normally; lead from her room along familiar, sterile hallways into a far smaller room with a chair and a glass floor and wall. Today something green flowed in pipes beneath the floor. Today the glass beneath her bare feet was warm, the warmth extending to the somehow rougher hard plastic of the chair. A contrast to the normally chill air.

And the words came. Not a whim or a conjecture; a certainty. The tester was a man in a white coat – one of Hojo’s oft-replaced assistants. He stared at her when she spoke, his expression shifting into a frown. He scribbled something on his clipboard and moved out of sight.

Aeris never saw him again. Not today nor any later day. Test days were various degrees of boring or painful. Today was more boring than normal – nothing happened. She sat in the chair waiting for the lab assistant to come back. After saying those words the various people in the lab left her alone; occasional glances from someone in the distance but no one approached – until it was time to go back to her room.

She tried saying the same thing the next day to the new tester, though the world did not feel the same, nothing green beneath the floor, no warmth in the air. The tester – a lady in a white coat – offered a slim smile and scribbled a note. “Who? Who returned to the Planet?”

Aeris blinked. “I don’t know.” The lady did not believe her. Which made sense; her words were untrue. But those words held truth for the man a day previous.

“And what do you mean ‘Return to the Planet’?”

“Um.” Aeris fidgeted on her chair. What had she experienced yesterday? “They’re happy now. They’re with their friends and family and-“ Something good. Something wondrous.

The lady nodded. “But you don’t know the name of the person who this happened to?” Aeris shook her head; the lady studied her. “When was the first time you knew someone returned to the Planet?”

Easy. “Yesterday. During testing.” Testing was never fun, but if she spoke more and answered their questions, sometimes they gave her chocolate or books or smiled and said she was doing well. Mother – when Aeris got to see her – told her not to, but it always seemed better to do what they wanted. Except when Hojo was on the other side of the glass. He never gave out treats – and nothing Aeris ever said or did made him happy. Hojo testing days were the worst.

The lady was looking at something out of sight – to the side of the glass wall in front of Aeris. Some more scribbles on her pad. “Thank you, Aeris.” She smiled and Aeris grinned back. The same lady awaited her the next day when testing resumed. Green beneath the floor and the warm difference to the world again today – like the first day. “Hello Aeris.” The lady had a chair set up on the other side of the glass. “Did someone close to me return to the Planet today?”

“No.” The lady’s gaze flicked to one side and she gestured. Her gaze locked with Aeris’s and the situation changed. Wait. Another certainty. “No. No one you know returned to the Planet. But-“ A fleeting impression, a sense of someone else in the lab. One of the other technicians. He had to know.

The lady leant forward. “Not me?” Aeris shook her head. The lady tapped a finger against her lips. “Did you know Ardyn’s mother died two days ago?”

“Ardyn?”

The lady smiled. “The man in charge of your tests.”

“Oh!” Two days without seeing him odd; and now she knew his name. Now confusion. “Died? What does that mean?”

“That’s-“ The lady scribbled down something. “-that is our word for returning to the Planet.”

“Died.” Blunt, short, somehow wrong. “Is... Is that why he hasn’t been here?”

The lady shrugged. “Amongst others.” She smiled again and Aeris smiled back. “Thank you again, Aeris. That’s it for today.” She was telling the truth and life was better still: no tests for the rest of the week. Books and chocolate in abundance. Mother was not allowed to visit disappointingly.

The next week, the world was the same kind of different and warm. A new man in a white coat stood on the other side of the glass. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Aeris sat on her chair. Worth a try. “Someone you know has returned to the Planet?”

The man smiled. “Ah, they said, you would say that.” He leant closer to the glass. “Afraid that’s not going to cut it now. No more lies please.”

Aeris winced and recoiled from him. They knew too – somehow. A test of some kind. The man asked her routine questions – a boring test day. Aeris answered as quickly and said as little as she could. She did not remember her dreams. She did not know what the Promised Land was. She did not know how her mother’s Materia worked. She could not read either of the pieces of paper the man held up.

A dull test day. Until: something got the man’s attention and he strode out of sight. The lady returned with a chair and sat down. “Hello.”

“Hi-“ The sensation dropped on her like a blanket; a prickling, shivery sensation across her shoulders and the back of her neck. “Someone close to him-“ She gestured in the direction the man had gone. “-has returned to the Planet.”

The lady smiled more; she pulled a photo from her clipboard. “This man? Someone close to him, returned to the Planet?” The photo was of the man from before.

“Yes.”

“Good. Good. That’s excellent, Aeris.” The lady stood up. “That will be all for the day.”

A pattern soon emerged. The lady or an unfamiliar white-coated person would be waiting for her on test days. At first – if it was someone new – and she lied they would not believe her; and on these occasions, the lie would quickly become true. The sensation came so readily and so regularly the lie became pointless, and she would wait until she knew; as if she could stop the words spilling out of her mouth. But never a certain outcome. Some days the words never came at all; other days it was more than once. Always she wound up telling the lady, never the one it referred to.

Occasionally she would struggle to articulate who she meant when a succession of technicians talked to her. But the lady always had pictures and Aeris would pick them out. Aeris never saw any of the people in the pictures ever again.

These new tests carried on for years, correct answers getting more treats, more perks – including more time with Mother. A huge improvement to her life.

Until the day Mother shook her awake. The day they ran. The day Mom fell and never got back up. The day she met Elmyra Gainsborough.

Chapter Text

Mere days after coming to the slums; Aeris had said the wrong thing and spooked Elmyra. She said the words she had said so often in the labs to her new Mom. Different here; poking around the bedroom in Sector Five when the sensation came. Still adjusting to differences; a lack of enforced solitude, a lack of observers. A choice of clothing – Aeris wanted to wear all of it in quick succession. Not how it worked outside the labs. There were pants and tops and dresses in vivid colours. Softer fabrics so pleasant against her skin. Faint unfamiliar scents in the clothes, in the air. The bed made a wheezing, metallic crunch when she sat on it. Softer again, it buoyed her up unlike the thin flat mattress in the labs.

A whole array of different foods and flavours. Food became something to look forward to. Hard not to gobble it down as fast as she could. How much longer until lunch? Clocks were a method of telling the time, but the circular face meant little to Aeris-

The words came. They were for Elmyra. And Elmyra – Mom now – was downstairs.

Aeris walked down and said the words to Mom.

Mom’s reaction was much like the first technician’s. Like- Ardyn perhaps?

Unlike the lady, unlike the other technicians; Mom’s reaction was flat disbelief. A rift in the new situation, though so much had already changed there seemed to be little harm in things changing further. No more tests it seemed. No more lab. No more technicians. The lady was gone too.

The next day Mom got a letter, its contents reducing her to tears. She flinched away when Aeris asked what was wrong. “My wife-“ She broke down into heaving sobs. “She’s dead.”

Dead. Death. Died. Those strange words still never sat right. The same words Mom used to explain why Mother stopped moving. Why her eyes remained closed. Like sleep but somehow different. Mother didn’t move, didn’t breath, and no matter what Aeris said, she did not react.

Elmyra took Aeris into her arms when the tears started spilling out of her eyes. “Your Mother has passed away.” And at Aeris’s confusion she added: “She’s dead.”

Dead. Death. Died. Was this what the lady in the lab had inferred about returning to the Planet? But returning was good, the sensations positive. Nothing like the strain Aeris now felt, fearing she would not see Mother ever again after she hurried her from the familiar – if unwanted – labs to here where everything was so much bigger, vaster, more open and alien. She wanted to talk to Mother and now could never do so again.

Elmyra murmured encouragement and assurances. Soothing tones. She took Aeris’s hand and they walked away from Mother, who lay still on the platform. Mother might sit up and come after them. Any moment. It somehow never arrived. Elmyra lead her through the vast openness to her home. Warm here, unfamiliar smells of mould and dust and food. Elmyra bid her wait while she took care of something.

Like a new test. This must be a test. More elaborate and shocking than any before, but how could this situation be any different to before? What did they want now? No guidance, no one obvious watching. Aeris wandered around the new room. The floor beneath her feet made of individual stones, huge and cold. Fabric partly covered the table; as soft as her clothing or bedding in the labs. Here spread out for an unknown purpose. Unless here they slept on the table? A downgrade from the labs if so.

Aeris swept her fingers across surfaces; the wood grain of the table and it’s chairs. The glass jars with intriguing smells. Hints of other scents from uncovered pots at other points in the room. Objects similar to the trays the lab techs served food in, but broken apart and larger, stacked on shelves. Metal tins with colourful labels. Odd spindly things made of plastic in vases; stiff thin tubes supporting a spread a spread of green and other colours, odd objects on display. A stair leading up to gloom above.

A chair – a bigger chair than any Aeris had seen. Large enough for three of her to sit side by side. Was this for testing? The chair was soft, squishy. Aeris could push her fingers into it, the texture softer than the cloth on the table. Warmer than a chair in the lab. Aeris settled onto it. More comfortable than any before. Still more to see; outside – still such a new concept – was Sector Five.

Being alone wasn’t distressing; she had spent so long alone in the lab. But knowing Mother would not see her sometime in the future changed everything. She would not see Mother again. Not tomorrow, not next week, not next month. Never. She sniffed, her eyes watering again.

Aeris

“Mother?” Aeris stared around the room. No one else in sight. Her imagination? The voice came again, soft, clear against the electrical hum from the tall white box near the sink. Mother. Aeris scrubbed at her eyes as Mother’s voice relayed quiet assurances. Mother had returned to the Planet. Mother was sorry she had left Aeris behind. Aeris should find her way with her new Mom – Mother was certain she could care for her.

Elmyra seemed unsure how to respond when she returned home, hands grimy with soil, the front of her dress muddy. But she came with chocolate and colouring books and ice-cream. And Aeris smiled and chattered to her. Her new Mom replied with a frown, occasionally edging conversation back to her Mother. What was there to worry about? Mother had returned to the Planet; she was not gone or anything.

Mom was not assured when the letter arrived. Mom could not hear her wife’s voice like Aeris had with Mother. Mom cried and cried. Perhaps in time she would receive assurance and thus be happier?

The time never seemed to come and increasingly seemed an impossibility as the hours ticked on. Aeris limited what she said to Mom lest she say the wrong thing again. Stayed in her room more. The situation persisted two days before Mom came to talk. Uncomfortable when Mom sat on the bed, remarking on various things around the room. She talked about anything but the letter, anything but her wife. Anything but Aeris saying “Someone close to you has returned to the Planet.” Understandable; there were things Aeris did not want to talk about either. The latter lay too close to the before. Also not what she wanted to talk about. Never about the labs. Never about what she thought happened to Mother.

Almost like their first meeting again, Elmyra asking her questions, unsure of her actions and words. And never again did Aeris say those specific words to Mom; though this was not a choice. The impulse - the knowing - regarding Mom never came again. Talking of the words or the letter or Mom’s wife was taboo by mutual unspoken agreement.

Chapter Text

Mom never asked about what Tseng said when he left after each visit. She understood it somehow connected with the lab, with the tests and all the other things Aeris never wanted to talk about. Mom was quickly angry with Tseng – for Mom this was maintaining express politeness and keeping everything little thing she said brief. Aeris would run whenever he came to the house. Run and stay away for as long as she could. Leave the barren garden, the soil polluted and corrupted. The rest of the sector was little different, but the more distance from Tseng, the better. Until at least hunger or thirst or a need for the bathroom forced her back home.

On the third occasion Tseng visited, Aeris fled into the Sector as always. New sights out here. The thicker stench of Mako – mitigated by Mom’s cooking and the various scents she deployed throughout the house. The sector was huge and wide; any number of different routes and places to see. Dangers outside the familiar triangular section of city; Mom had extracted a promise to not venture into either adjacent Sector.

Her altered route for the day took her past a high fence. Something rebounded off the other side, the wooden structure wobbling. Aeris peered through a nearby gap. Mom often reminded her of the existence of other kids; other people her age in the area. These were seemingly them. Three boys and two girls in an empty lot shouting to each other as they kicked a ball between them. Nothing angry in the words; simply loud. Mom said something about making friends.

A larger gap further along offered an ingress. Aeris pushed her way through and trotted forward across dusty open ground, the edges cluttered with litter and debris. “Hi!”

The children’s initial suspicion faded fast. “Hi.” One of the girls. “What’s your name?”

Aeris gave hers and learned the girl’s name was Rinoa. The other children were Squall, Seifer, Zell and Selphie. “What are you testing?” Her question drew blank looks from them all.

“Testing?” Seifer sneered.

“Yeah. What are you trying to find?” Not information techs ever furnished Aeris with, but it didn’t hurt to try and find out. Different situation and all.

“We’re playing?” Selphie took a step back, frowning.

“Ah.” The words from the lab held different weights out here. Also best to distinguish lest the lab infect everything. So, they called it playing. And did not seem to like the implications of testing. “Sorry. That’s what they called where I used to-“ Be assigned? Held? If testing made them uncomfortable, those words were no good either. “-live. Before here.”

“Weird place,” Zell muttered.

“A bit.” Clumsy dialogue but the conversation was at least not over. “So. Can I-“ Testing became test. Thus: “Play?”

Squall, the one holding the ball, shrugged. “Sure. If you know how.”

From the limited observation, it seemed kicking the ball between two markers was the main objective. And only Squall could touch the ball with his hands. For some reason. Aeris shrugged. “Of course.”

Playing was like some of the more intensive tests in the labs. This playing required physical endurance and co-ordination. But not in the pursuit of something, or at the behest of someone with a clipboard. These kids did this out of their own volition but for reasons seemingly as vague as any testing. She was not great at the game, but it was easy to get caught up in the excitement, in the rushing after the ball, in the brief breaks to catch her breath when the ball bounced too high or the other side of a fence and Zell ran to fetch it.

The satisfying impact of her foot kicking the ball; its trajectory across the space. Intercepted by another child, or caught by Squall. Or once for it to careen past him and earning her congratulations. Still not dissimilar to testing. But it was appealing, not something forced on her, or a treat parcelled out by an adult. So much better. Until-

“Someone close to you has returned to the Planet.”

Squall stared at her blankly. “What?”

“Someone-“ Aeris cast about. With the words expressed, the impulse to say them was gone. But they brought their recipient nothing but confusion, unsure of their meaning. Of course. She was still using her words. Like in the lab, her words meant less than the blunt ones the lady had used. As Mom had used them. Mom still hadn’t heard her wife’s voice as far as Aeris could tell, but perhaps it would be better for Squall? “Someone close to you has died.”

He backed away, face tight with fear, eyes wide. Now a sneer. “You’re weird.” Squall rushed away from her. The other kids looked at her with various levels of concern. “I’m- I’m going home.”

“Yeah.” Rinoa nodded. “I think we should.”

“Wait-“ The kids ignored Aeris and ducked out of the lot. Not so different to Elmyra. Why was the reaction different? Aeris wavered and trotted after the children; nothing to do here in the empty space. She ducked back outside, the other kids nowhere in sight. Maybe they would be back later? Or tomorrow? Mom’s distance had not lasted for long. The same might be true of the other children.

The next day Aeris ventured outside without a visit from Tseng. Mom seemed pleased to hear she was going to look for the kids from the previous day. She smiled. Mom smiling was good. Four of the kids played in the empty lot, but more subdued than the previous day, no shouts, less energy. Something had changed and Squall was absent. “Hi!” Aeris called.

The reaction was swift and disheartening. “It’s the weirdo!” Selphie shrieked in response. The other three kids panicked and fled the lot without pause; Aeris alone again. She tried revisiting the next day but the kids were not there and did not come while she waited. For the rest of the week circumstances varied between no one using the lot, or – if the kids were there – them rushing away from her. Soon attempting to try and spend time with them or play with them seemed futile.

Soon Aeris wandered Sector Five alone.

Chapter Text

Despite her reputation amongst the children – and a few adults – in Sector Five, Aeris never tired of venturing out of doors. Never seemed good to admit to Mom the children ran from her, so Aeris lied. And everything was fine, except for the litany of excuses required to explain why the children were never where Aeris was and why they never came to the house. Frustrating when spotted deep in thought; for the various kids to scream in horror and flee.

At least the ones who screamed were harmless. A few were blunter, harsher. Not hitting girls was a credo most adhered to in the slums, but those afraid of her- She came back bruised one day and her best explanations, lies and excuses to Mom could not prevent the truth coming out. Aeris could not remain inside – ‘What kind of life is that for a child’ Mom would murmur – but neither could she remain defenceless.

Mom had some skill with a staff and each day ran Aeris through numerous drills. Deflect, attack and hopefully incapacitate – if only for long enough to escape from the current situation. Aeris’s muscles burned with each practice session but once used to the weapon, it was a comforting support when she ventured out into the slums. People were warier of her now. She was safe but potentially lonelier than before.

In addition to the staff training, Mom sat Aeris down and taught her to read. Something her Mother always promised but never could achieve – and something none of the various lab techs at Shinra had ever seen a point in furthering. No point in teaching the lab specimen to read. Mother refused to relay anything about the wide variety of Cetra glyphs Hojo’s people had and Aeris simply could not.

Mom was aghast at her illiteracy, determined to teach her. “It’s just I don’t know how to-“ She frowned. “How did I learn?” A mystery lost in the depths of time.

Repetition was the key it transpired. The slow process of learning common glyphs and spellings and words. Endless practices in a shaky hand, Mom leaving Aeris notes to explain her early morning absences or to ask for help with chores. Numbers, gil denominations. Shopping lists.

The last forced a change. For some time Aeris stayed apart from other people aside from Mom. To help Mom run errands she would need to interact with strangers again. How many knew her simply as the weird girl in the slums?

Mom crouched beside Aeris before she went to the local shop the first time. “Just... just be polite. Smile and nod. Say please and thank you. Don’t-“ She cut off. “You’ll be fine.”

A long time since Aeris said those words to her. A long time since she said them to Squall. A long time since the words came to her. The words seemingly capable of upsetting everyone in the Sector. She would not say them. Was this what Mom wanted to but did not say?

Her reputation preceded her at the store. People eyed her with suspicion, muttering and whispering and paying her too much attention. It would be good to shout at them, demand they not pull away, not talk about her in not quiet enough murmurs. But Mom requested her politeness in this errand. And so Aeris smiled, she checked off the items on the list. Hefted the increasingly heavy shopping basket. Said hello to each person she passed, chatted to the cashier while they scanned her items – the cashier was less forthcoming than with the woman ahead of her.

She caught him on a few topics; some of the foods he also liked and complaints about the Mako density in the air. He reverted to type too often though, distant, and extremely clipped answers. Frustrating. How much were they talking of her when she left? Aeris let her shoulders sag as she walked home. A lot of effort to keep up the pretences there. But at the same time; the closest she had come to other people in so long. Oh, some were near hostile and distant but she’d been able to navigate the space, read the shopping list, accurately calculate how much it would come to, pay, check her change.

Aeris went to bed pleased with the day.

She awoke at four-thirty desperate to find- Who? Who was it?

Her; back at the store, standing slouched at the end of one aisle. A teenager, hair tied back into a braid, short jacket and long black skirt. Had barely glanced at Aeris when she said hello and got right back to perusing whatever she held her attention. Hair raising on the back of Aeris’s neck. She had to find her. Had to- Absurd. Sector Five was huge and the girl likely near impossible to find.

But-

No. No way. She lay back and waited for sleep to come.

It evaded her. She was awake, the need to speak sitting uncomfortably in her chest. But how could she? She tossed and turned, ventured into the bathroom, read. Nothing. She was awake. And one thing dominated her thoughts: the girl in black had to know. But how? Maybe she would be at the store next time? Maybe Aeris would run across her somewhere in the Sector? A lot of maybes and Aeris still lay in bed unable to sleep.

She could say the words. Speak them here in the night-time, in the stillness. But somehow not enough. They would fade, vanish from the world, the knowledge imparted lost. If she could not say them- Padding across the floor, Aeris opened one of her exercise books. What to say? Not enough to simply say it. There needed to be more.

She wrote quickly. Sector Five. Hyper Stop. Girl. End of aisle 2. Black hair, black jacket, black skirt. Someone close to her has returned to the Planet.

Aeris sat back. The weight in her chest shifted and evaporated, the words no longer desperate for expression. This was enough. She returned to her bed and fell instantly asleep.

Chapter Text

Desperation and exhaustion lead Aeris to scribble her words in whatever she could; unfortunately this was the same book Mom used to give her spelling tests. Mom never said anything, never confronted Aeris about the words, but the page was missing by the evening of the next day. She would need some other way to record her words.

There might be more.

Dealing with Tseng - and Mom’s encouragement of fleeing into the slums - ensured Aeris received a slim allowance. A handful of gil for the most part. Enough to get some water, some confectionery and one or two other things if they caught Aeris’s eye. The day after the page vanished, Aeris set out to find a different medium. The Hyper Stop - no sign of the girl - sold spiral-bound notebooks. Better than hiding away one of her workbooks and Mom asking what happened to it.

Aeris recreated the words in the evening, the opportunity allowing more practice with her spelling and writing. No relief this time; the sentiment expressed already. But it was right somehow. Concealing the book was now vital. Inside clothes drawers, under pillows, hidden amongst her other books all seemed too risky. Mom changed her bed-sheets, put her clothes away. Sometimes put new books on the shelves.

But it had to stay in the house – had to stay in her room. If she could not write, she might not be able to sleep again. In the end, Aeris resorted to pulling the lowest drawer from the dresser and hiding the notebook in the aperture underneath. She could remove the drawer with reasonable quiet; sufficient to give her access and not alert Mom.

Aeris still had a reputation in the slums but less so now. People still marked her passing, many still reticent to reply if she spoke to them, but they seemed eager to forget what she said in the past. Or perhaps they considered it a bad old habit; some instance of infamous childish bad taste now discarded. Few would suspect – despite her no longer relaying the words – nothing meant the impulse giving rise to her reputation had ceased. A month after obtaining notebook two people returned to the Planet.

Both in quick succession and both well before bed. Right in the middle of dinner. Had to focus on her conversation with Mom, help with clean-up and find an excuse to dart upstairs, pull the drawer out and scribble down the words:

Boy. Heading towards Sector Six. Striped shirt, red shorts. Someone close to him has returned to the Planet.
Boy. Heading towards Sector Six. Striped shirt, red shorts. Someone close to him has returned to the Planet.

Aeris blinked, the sensation fading. Two identical lines on the paper. Strange. No time to dwell on the implications; the words pinned to the page and she was free. Only later in bed did the questions come. Why two for the boy? Had he lost his parents? Most kids had two parents – and in some ways Aeris had two as well. Never at the same time like most others it seemed. Who might be looking after the boy – headed towards Sector Six – now?

Three pages filled. Never any names; nothing beyond a brief description of who and where Aeris encountered them. And the important words. Never the someone. A number of the intended recipients of the words were repeat encounters, but once more the impulse to tell them was gone. Nor would Aeris want to. Some of the people she re-encountered seemed mournful and sad. While they too might appreciate knowing what Aeris had to say, there remained the chance – like Mom – they did not hear the voice of the returned and would find her words distressing. Others seemed unconcerned and happy. These would likely react like Squall if she repeated her written words.

Aeris said nothing.

Conversation – when the words came to her – became easier. Something to put off, ignored for now. This would only go so far; and she would eventually need to mark the words. Talking helped; hang onto the thread of conversation whatever it was, push down the words threatening – they always threatened to – spill from her mouth.

As Aeris approached her teenage years, she shed her reputation for weirdness. Few people wanted to broach the subject, though the children her age had a hard time forgetting her early actions; Aeris the Weird was still a figure to shun and feared. Despite the fact she could more than hold her own with her staff.

Some adults seemed to let go entirely. The older teens working at the Hyper Stop treated her like any other customer; with borderline boredom and contempt, though it was possible to wheedle a more involved conversation from them. Visiting the Hyper Stop or on the streets between there and home was the most frequent cause of the words. Other adults still watched askance if they noticed her, hurrying children and partners away from her. Like a curse clung to her, like she could be the cause of someone’s return – someone’s death - not the messenger.

This too was a point of wondering. Was she somehow causing the situation? Was she choosing the people? Discomforting thought. What had the girl in black or the boy walking towards Sector Six done to her? Better it be one of the kids who punched her. Or Hojo or Tseng or-

A chilling sensation. What if she now felt any of those return to the Planet? If tomorrow, Tseng were to re-join the Planet’s voice? Or the bullies from the slums? Would it be her fault? Would she know them from the others? She slept little after, twitching awake at the slightest provocation, certain the fateful knowledge was arriving. It never did.

Almost a relief when Tseng made his next appearance. The threat he exhibited tempered the relief; Aeris fled into the slums and away from his entreaties as normal.

A different direction for her wandering today. Away from other people. She headed away from the centre of Midgar, out towards the rim of the city, following the road as it cut through the mountains of trash rising high within the sector. Rare to come over this way – not much out here. Clusters of houses and some shops, but everything Mom and Aeris needed was back the way she came.

The building on her left was odd. A towering stone edifice, unlike any other structure in the Sector. By chance it lay under the gap between the plates above them, right on the dividing line between Sector Four and Five.

Aeris

Mother’s voice, clearer than for some time. The building had wooden doors; Mother’s voice grew clearer the closer she came. Other voices, distant whispering of a multitude alongside her Mother’s words. Hard to articulate the sensations. Her name and what might have been assurances? Aeris clutched her staff tighter. She was not afraid. The hinges of the door screeched as she pushed them open.

The inside of the building was dry. Dust motes glistened in the light from the windows and their patterns of coloured glass. The ceiling was so high above her head; huge beams running the length of the room rested on high pillars of stone. Row upon row of long, simple seats faced away from her and towards a raised platform.

Lying before it was a patch of green and red and violet and pink and yellow. An unfamiliar jumble of colours.

Aeris

Her Mother’s voice so clear. She padded towards the colours. Grass. Flowers. Like the pictures in the books of places outside Midgar. But here they were more than images. Soft beneath her fingers, the petals spilling scents into the air. And somewhere in there; Mother. The grass clung to the soil, the mound of natural growth pushing up from somewhere beneath the floorboards. In between the grass and the flowers, the soil was brown. No corrupted rainbow of colour as with Mom’s garden. Was this the reason things grew here?

Flowers. So unlike anything in Midgar. So different to the fake plastic ones Mom owned. An effort to tear away from the light, the green, the faint scent of something other than Mako on the air. Could these flowers grow at Mom’s? Would the soil allow her to grow flowers there too? Or was it only here, in this strange, quiet place? Something to try. But she had no way to take the soil with her. But perhaps she could take a flower; Mom might like one.

Chapter Text

The flower astonished Mom. Her expression seemed to freeze when Aeris answered her question of where she had found it. Mom repeated the query, a more serious expression on her face. Aeris gave the same answer; the tall building under the gap between the plates.

“The church?” Aeris did not know what a church was. She described the building as best she could. “The church.” Mom nodded and chewed her lip, the hand not clutching the flower clenching and unclenching. She sighed, tension flowing out of her and thanked Aeris. Mom filled a glass with water and submerged the stem. “To keep it going as long as possible.”

As long as possible was about a week, the flower succumbing in the end, drooping, petals falling away, green tending to brown. Aeris went back to fetch a replacement from the church, the whispering of Mother’s voice absent now. A longer delay, checks and probing of her fingers in the soil. A shame the previous flower before had not lasted long. How best to get flowers home so they did not fade?

Mom said something about breaking the stem causing the problems. So- To not break the stem she would need to take the whole flower – right down to the roots below the ground. The damp, soft soil clung to her fingers as she probed carefully lower, deeper into the mound and sought the limits of the flower. A sense of the clump of earth between her hands, of the growths running through it, the roots seeking out nutrients and moisture. Life.

She halted, hands clutched around the clump, ready to pull up the flower. Did she want to carry it back like this? Risking mud on her dress, trailing soil and perhaps risking the flower’s life as she did so? Another return a day later might be better. The clump was too big for a glass, but a bowl from the kitchen could contain the mass of soil. The next day Aeris repeated the journey with a usable receptacle and returned with the flower. She tore at the packed, poisoned earth of Mom’s garden beside the river, digging a deep enough hole the clump of soil and the roots.

Mom smiled sadly when she returned home and Aeris showed her the improvements to her garden. “Thank you for the effort. Not sure how long it will last.”

Time passed and the flower endured. Aeris tended to it each morning and each night. Watered it with water from the tap. Checked the leaves for discolouration. The flower thrived, easily surpassing the week of its predecessor. Aeris transplanted another flower, the damaged garden now gaining colour and greenery. Mom noted the flowers’ hardiness – able to bloom and grow and thrive here in the dim light beneath the plate.

Aeris stopped taking flowers from the church after the third; the holes left by her excavations gave the patch an uneven look, the dark soil a stark contrast to the greenery, the growths not reclaiming the space quickly. Where did flowers and grass come from? Seeds.

Seeds were hard to come by in Midgar.

At least; usable seeds were hard to come by. There were other dried seeds and multiple plant-types unsuited to the climate, the dim light and the polluted ground - as if growing anything was not a challenge. But the only other seeds Aeris found in Sector Five were foods. Accents to rolls, interspersed into bread, salted and sold in tiny foil packets. Mom shook her head when Aeris queried if they could grow.

No seeds in the slums. Mom was at least willing to buy her seeds on her way back home below-plate. Expensive though; all Aeris’s allowance spent on flower seeds for a good while. But the resultant flowers thrived. The holes in the flower-patch at the church were soon filled in. The garden around Mom’s house bloomed.

Chapter Text

A routine developed; Aeris would wake, have breakfast, wave goodbye to Mom. A check of the flowers in the garden, dig up the fresher soil surrounding the new flowers and plant some more seeds if there was enough room. After she would make her way to the church and check on the flowers there. Starting to run out of room, new seeds poked into the clumps of soil escaping from the main mass, flowers planted there continuing to thrive.

More varied in the church than home; all the same yellow in Mom’s garden, but here, seeds produced varied, vivid colours – many failing to match to the packets Mom brought back. Upon questioning there were many mundane possibilities for the disparity. Again; seeds were an oddity and little in demand – lazy reuse of packets the most plausible reason why so many illustrations promising yellow flowers, produced instead reds, blues, violets and oranges.

Selling flowers was a notion formed over time. Shops had things – clothes, food, books, drinks – and to get them she or Mom needed to give them money. Aeris had flowers – a commodity not readily available in the slums. Perhaps on the Upper plate, but said floating world remained closed off to her. “How do shops get things to sell?”

Mom glanced up from the newspaper – something she read with a frown every day. “Depends on the shop. Some make things themselves.”

“Like the bakery?”

“Yes.” Mom nodded. “They do all the baking there.”

Aeris mused on the answer. “How about the Hyper Stop?”

“Well-“ Mom leant back on her chair. “They might make some things, but other things they buy from other people-“ She frowned. “Or they make them elsewhere and the shop sells them.”

“Okay.” Some clumsy deflection after – why did Aeris want to know? – the idea clearer now. It should be a surprise for Mom. Let her not spend so long pouring over the account books and the endless dwindling figures. Maybe ensure Aeris did not need an allowance and could buy her own seeds.

As per Mom’s earlier reaction, flowers would not last a huge amount of time without water. While it might be possible to take the flower and the whole root system with it, without anything to hold the flowers, the exercise would become messy and awkward fast. Short term only; she would need to make clear how little time the picked flowers would last.

The weapons seller was unlikely to have any interest in her flowers. But maybe the Hyper Stop?

She had not said the words capable of provoking such discomfort in others for so long; the notion of her as a harbinger was near forgotten. Aeris was one in thousands in the Sector. Few paid her attention. Until she asked about the flowers. A rarity down here – and why would she want them? Not as if flowers grew in Midgar the man behind the counter said.

“They do.” The man laughed at her. Aeris glared. “I can make them grow.”

A condescending look on the shop assistant's face. “’course you can.” He shook his head. “But we don’t sell ‘em. Only place I know that does is up.” Meaning the Upper Plate. He served another customer, ignoring her – maybe hoping she would leave him alone.

“I know you don’t sell them, but would you?”

He held her gaze for a long time. “Kid, whatever con you’re pulling, I want no part of it. We don’t stock flowers and as far as I know we have no intention of ever doing so.” He snorted. “As if anyone could afford ‘em down here.” So definite. So final. Her last attempt at convincing him died on her lips; he was not prepared to listen to her. “If you ain’t buying anything, then I ask you to get out of the way of people who do.”

Tempting to kick over a display. But she resisted. He was one of many people who worked in the shop – and so much of the household’s food came from the place. Not somewhere to make an enemy of. But- Aeris got outside and growled in frustration. The sound earned her some wary looks from those nearby. She calmed; no desire for notoriety as weird again.

If the shops would not sell her flowers; perhaps she could do it on her own? A new idea as she wandered home. Mom’s shopping basket would be more than capable of holding a good number of flowers. She left Mom’s garden as it was and headed instead to the church. A selection of flowers – picked from across the mass to reduce gaping holes – and she was ready.

More or less.

Selling flowers became a learning experience as she tried and failed multiple approaches. Simply standing and waiting did little; slum etiquette was normally to keep one’s head down and get home as fast as possible. No way of acting in a similar way to a product in the Hyper Stop – no one would seek her out. Time to turn the tables. Aeris stayed close to the market – the place where people would have the most money or at least be thinking of spending money.

Polite and soft-spoken. “Would you like a flower?” as an opener worked fine. The line met with a query of how much each cost. Not something Aeris had given much thought to after the first positive response. Her first prices varied wildly. At one gil per flower a later opportunistic man bought her whole basket with a fifty gil note. An astonishing amount to hand Aeris, but it did not seem to stretch far after. She revisited the church; her next sales skewed too high. Asking one hundred gil per flower resulted in none sold at all. Over time happy mediums became clear; the kinds of people who would pay more for her flowers. And those who could do with them no matter what.

Her clothes seemed to affect how people reacted to her. Softer, brighter colours better than black; dresses better than pants. She tracked the days people were most willing to listen – where in the sector, time of day, choice of clothes. All manner of variances but the patterns stood out.

The pink dress with so many tiny buttons down the front she bought special. She left most done up, content to slide the whole thing over her head, the lower part left unbuttoned for easier movement. The low neckline left her feeling exposed; a choker borrowed from Mom’s jewellery box mitigated the sensation. Bangles – a birthday present from Mom – on her wrists and her mother’s ribbon – including its precious cargo – in her hair.

Flowers were now sold by the flower girl. A person who did not, strictly speaking, exist. It was an act, a persona; her weirdness hidden under carefully chosen clothing combined with practised, eloquent words and innocent smiles.

But how easily she forgot the source of her weirdness; the words came again more and more, ever increasing alongside sales of the flowers. A balding man late to a date; a haggard looking woman with hair escaping its bun who hurried home; a teenage couple, one girl sending the other into a mock swoon when presented with the flower. The words never came when Aeris was face to face with them; they came at random and inconvenient intervals. The middle of the night; during a bath. Once or twice while she was on the streets selling the flowers. But never when she sold to the person the words were for.

Aeris held the words in as practised. A handful of descriptions – and the odd actual name – building up on the worst days until she could disgorge them into her secretive notebook.

Should she tell any of her repeat customers? Surely some knew; those now downcast and sombre, who bought specific colours of flowers and queried without expectation if she could craft a wreathe for them? Aeris had no idea how to produce one and apologetically turned them down. None of those customers needed her to tell them. But perhaps she should tell those whose attitude showed no change? Ignorance or callousness? But she never said anything; the insults of the past still stung.

The dread possibility of a litany of words. What could cause such a thing? A Mako reactor accident? A sunken sea vessel, a coastal town flooded, volcanoes?

How many would she be able to remember before she could note them all? How overwhelming would so many be? The thoughts conspired to keep mind whirling as night fell. She needed to sleep, but so many new people today – in addition to repeat sales to previous encounters. All she could do was push the worries aside and hope she would sleep through the night.

Chapter Text

When Aeris met Lily – a girl her age only recently moved to the slums – she became determined to do things differently. No matter if the words came, she would not say them to her.

Lily represented a fresh start. Television and books made clear an accepted – if old-fashioned – notion of welcoming someone to the area or getting to know new neighbours. Advice radically at odds with life within Midgar, but the soft-focused images on television, the warmth of the notion in books appealed. Aeris would make the effort and ensure Lily’s first impression of her was not one of weirdness.

Most of this was easy; get to her before the other children. Not say the words – but unless immediate tragedy befell Lily’s family, the eventuality was unlikely. Find common interests. The easy, popular things everyone watched on television for example. Aeris let a day elapse while the family bustled back and forth moving into their home. The next days she visited, smiled, was polite and brought them flowers as a house-warming.

Not something as distinct for the family as they were for Midgar’s long-time inhabitants; Lily’s family’s circumstances had changed and forced them to move from Kalm. Lily and her mother were no strangers to flowers – Aeris’s attempts received with thanks, but not as enthusiastically as most slum dwellers would look upon such a gift. An attitude likely to change over time. And hopefully she might be known as Aeris the Flower Girl and not Aeris the Weird – to Lily’s family at least. And from there, perhaps her new persona might spread across Sector Five. She was certain she could hold the words back behind her teeth.

By convenience – and some amount of retracing her steps over and over – Aeris managed to draw level with the family home when Lily set out into the slums to play the day after. She remembered Aeris's name. “What are you doing with those?” Lily pointed to the basket in the crook of Aeris’s arm.

A new quandary. Answer honestly and risk Lily finding someone else to spend her time in the slums with – or miss out on some sales until Lily returned home. “I was going to sell them-“

Lily smiled, eyes wide. “C-can I help?”

“Sure.” An automatic response. Lily fell in beside her – and Aeris wondered about practicalities; if they did sell flowers together, should she give Lily half the money? She had not put any work into growing the flowers, but it was not as if Aeris toiled to produce them. Growing flowers was an absurd easy task for her – and near impossible for everyone else. Possibly she should ask Mom – or simply give Lily half the money.

She was still mulling over the split when Lily darted off to ask a passer-by. The stranger acquiesced and Lily waved Aeris over. So easy for her. Was it because she did not need to sell the flowers, or did she have some knack to appeal to people more? Aeris observed her with care on her next few approaches; far easier to let Lily shoot off and ask someone if they wanted a flower. But what was she doing? Little shifts in her posture, expression, her attitude, her hands not betraying nerves.

Aeris sold more flowers than ever before – only fair Lily take fifty percent of her takings. She tried to hand them back but Aeris insisted. The appeal of flower selling trailed off for Lily after a few weeks, but their friendship was set. Aeris worked around the times when Lily was free; flower selling pushed into the evening.

The pair roamed the slums; explored, shared snacks, made jokes. A hundred little tiny moments from books and TV made real and experienced live.

Until it ended.

Until Lily’s Father came to the door far too late in the evening to hold a murmured conversation with Mom. Until Mom sat Aeris down and gently explained Lily had passed away. Aeris missed the details as her mind raced. Something about an illness, something about a last chance. Something about thanking Aeris for making friends with her and helping her last days be happier.

But-

Mom drew her into a hug.

But-

“Do you need to cry?” Mom’s hand on her shoulder. Aeris shook her head. But- The words. Mom did not follow when she raced back upstairs; tensed and ready. How long since Lily returned? How fast was the process?

“Someone close to you has returned to the Planet.” Lifeless words in the stillness of her room. But nothing came with them. No knowledge. No certainty. Nothing.

Aeris paced. Waiting, desperate for the sense. Lily returned to the Planet. But was she okay? Had something gone wrong? If Aeris did not say the words, was it true? And if it was not true, what did it mean? Why would Lily’s father say what he did?

Hour after hour passed and the words did not come. Aeris braced upright, nodding off over and over again – waking each time, unable to sleep for fear of missing the words. As if she had ever slept through them before.

The words did not come in the night. Aeris carried flowers round to Lily’s home and found a family in mourning. They wept, every one of them with a downcast expression. Lily had indeed returned to the Planet. And they – like Mom – likely would not react well to her words. But still the words would not come.

Why?

So many other descriptions and a handful of names in her book. So many others who had someone return to the Planet. Why did she not need to tell Lily’s parents? Why had she not known Lily returned to the Planet?

A new and unsuspected implication of her ability. Did this mean Lily was close with neither her parents nor Aeris? Had their friendship been a lie? Had she hated her parents? The notion did not fit with how the family seemed – but darkness could easily hide behind smiles and a veneer of presentability. Possible. But, if her family were awful why had Aeris not said the words for her?

Was this somehow like her mother? Was there the chance she could not say the words if they pertained to her? But she had not heard Lily’s voice either. Had Mother been the exception?

At fifteen Aeris started avoiding home. The words only came in certain places. In or around Mom’s house. In or around the church. Near the Mako reactor. Everywhere else, the impulse was weaker – and there were huge stretches of the sector where they did not come at all. There were other places to sleep; all costing gil.

Mom would worry, so Aeris made a pretence at retiring to her room each night before sneaking from her window once Mom was in bed. To find a sleazy motel, a cheaper inn. The church would have been perfect – had it not been the place where the words came with the greatest intensity. She lost minutes to an hour from the start and end of each night – she had to sneak home before Mom noted her absence – but she slept more soundly.

The words did not awaken her away from home.

Chapter Text

Bolder as the years passed. Money scrimped and saved from the flowers, better judgement of what a customer could afford. Some people clearly after a different service charged were charged far more and did not get anything close to their expectations. And perhaps she did not thoroughly dispel their mistake; leaning forward more for these customers and pretending she never noticed their gaze straying lower. The trick worked, the money allowing for an easier time at home. And at last; a travel pass to the Upper Plate. Not in her name – it would not do to let Shinra track her. If they were tracking her name of course. The notion forced another consideration; Tseng knew where she lived.

Her travel pass was in the name of Estelle Bright and Estelle’s address was one of the dingy hotels Aeris used for sleep on particularly customer heavy days. Some sweet-talking of the manager and all was fine with holding the pass until she could collect. There were risks travelling to the Upper plate, but how could she not visit now the opportunity was here? See the sky easier than between the narrow plate-gap; witness the elegant night-life of Midgar – the part the rest of the world got to see of the two-tiered city. Go where all the money was – and for most part the flowers were not.

Her act from the slum worked well up here. Higher standards meant keeping her clothes more pristine, her make-up more carefully applied, her braid tighter. Boots polished and cleaned each night. A new wicker basket once funds were available. People up here were rich and yet paradoxically more cautious and reluctant to buy her flowers. Curiosity got the better of those who peered from afar. Possible to edge prices up into the hundreds without much trouble. The area around the theatres did the best for her sales – a lot of people out on dates, looking to impress partners, rekindle romances, adhere to traditions and anniversaries.

So many nerves the first time a Shinra worker passed by; the first time one stopped to buy a flower. Nothing came of it. No Tseng swooping in to haul her back into the jaws of the Shinra building. No SOLDIER squad set out to capture her. Shinra workers had money. They helped make life better for Aeris and her mom.

SOLDIERs were always noted in the plaza and Sector Eight streets. Not like they could affect stealth. The aloof, distant men – all men – with gigantic swords slung on their backs. The eyes made most steer clear; an eerie glow, only visible up close. SOLDIERs were still rare here; the majority found instead over in Junon at the base. But Shinra liked to show muscle, liked to flout their power. SOLDIERs had guard rotas – and all wound up assigned to the Shinra building at one time or another.

Almost all. The great Sephiroth was rarely seen in the city, and was certainly never bothered with something so mundane as guard duty. He was often deployed, doing his duty and fighting for the common good. Or at least Shinra’s common good.

Watching people was something to do between flower sales. Try to spot potential customers, the kind who might want to buy a flower off a random flower girl. Couples were usually safe bets. Certain types of slightly bewildered looking men and women often proved a good resource too. Not reliable; only so many could forget anniversaries or birthdays or seasonal holidays at a time, but desperation typically meant less haggling. More sales. More gil.

And of course; flower selling was a way to talk to the people who caught her eye. The woman with glasses, short hair and the well-developed arms; the lithe, androgynous man his arms full of painting equipment. And the guy with the amazing arms and a cross-shaped scar on his chin. Black spiky hair and a gorgeous smile – one he gave out freely.

Aeris took her time approaching; keeping an eye on him as customers approached her, or other good contenders crossed her path.

“Excuse me-“ Sudden fazed; purple eyes with the faint glow denoting a SOLDIER looking deep into her own. Wait. Where was his uniform? Remember to breathe- “Would you like a flower?” She was smiling too much, leaning forward a touch more than usual.

“Flowers?”

Her hand was empty. Momentary panic, slight fluster. She grabbed at the nearest flower and held it up. “Uh-huh.” His focus switched to it. “An ideal gift for your partner.”

“My... partner?” His eyebrows rose in apparent confusion.

“Yes.” Stay smooth. “A lover. A girlfriend, a boyfriend- A husband or wife?” As if he could possibly BE single, looking as good as he did.

Realization dawned. “Oh, that kind of partner.” He smiled his astonishing smile again. “Don’t suppose yours bothers buying you any?”

Instant reactions fought for her lips. ‘I don’t have a partner’ collided with ‘I would still love you to give me flowers’ and ‘Never mind me, are you single?’ but instead “I don’t give single” made it out of her mouth.

The SOLDIER blinked in confusion, opened his mouth to say something- “Fair!” A voice called from across the plaza. The SOLDIER – Fair – reacted. “C’mon.” A distant figure – another SOLDIER? – beckoned him towards the Shinra building.

“Gotta go. Lovely flowers.” He pushed away through the crowd before she could protest.

The sensible thing to do in these circumstances was presumably to let it slide. Aeris had found people attractive before. Talking to them was fun, though often came with worries about knowing the dread words in their company. She had not met someone like Fair in real life before. But try as she might, Aeris could not help thinking about him. His eyes, his smile. Little things to know; what had left him with the scar? Why did he spike his hair up?

And the chances she would find him again- Oddly high. He was there again on the next night she made the trip to the Sector Eight plaza – this time in uniform. Should be selling flowers. Should be thinking about money. Wanted to talk to Fair. “Hi, Fair.”

“Do I-“ Fair glanced to the flower basket. “Oh, the flower girl.” He smiled and frowned once more. “Most people call me Zack.”

“But your friend-“ Why bother trying to explain it? Wait. Militaries did the referring to someone by their surname thing. So. “As long as you are comfortable with me calling you Zack; my name is Aeris.”

“Aeris.” Zack chuckled. “Oh, wow.” He laughed. This was not something anywhere on her list of expected responses to giving him her name. ‘That’s a pretty name’ or some appreciation for the girl showing him a great deal of interest and an enticing amount of leg and chest – particularly from his angle – seemed more likely. How was her name funny? She opened her mouth to protest and he kept on going. “And I thought the other one had a unique name.”

“Other... one?” A strange thrill. Another like her? A distant relative? A heavy sensation in her stomach. Someone – another Cetra – caught up in the Shinra corporation?

He nodded. “Yeah. She also smiles a lot. Works on the reception desk.”

Wait. There was a receptionist named Aeris working in the Shinra building? She fidgeted. Her name always felt unique; where had this other woman gotten it from? Her aspirations for the conversation seemed to have derailed. Another woman named Aeris didn’t matter; Zack did. “A friend?” There was a point to the question. Not impossible – though a strange coincidence – for Zack to be dating this other Aeris.

“Kinda?” Zack scratched at his head. “I say hello when I see her. Don’t really get a chance to talk to her much. Not meant to do that on duty, and pretty sure she’d get in trouble if I talked to her while she’s working and we never do have lunch together or anything. She eats in the canteen, but I like to spend time not working not at work, you know?” He shrugged.

The question of whether Zack had some other significant other remained, but at least he was not dating the receptionist. A relief but a whole other issue; it would not be better if Zack was dating the other Aeris, though it felt almost like it would be a relief to know she had no chance. To not have to try and proceed with her shakily defined plan of talk more to Zack. But; he had left something of an opening. “You could join me for lunch if you like?” Heated anxiety in the pit of her stomach. More daring, more blunt. She bit her lip.

“Already had lunch for the day-“ In fairness, it was nearly nine in the evening. Dinner would be a bit too late.

“Another day then?” How desperate was she appearing?

“Sure.” Zack nodded.

“Tomorrow?” Another nod. “What time would be good?” This was somehow difficult and increasingly seemingly not the best plan. He at least let her know when his break began.

A deviation from the norm; she would sell to the upper plate for longer tomorrow. Come up in the morning, sell flowers, meet Zack for lunch, see how things went and perhaps sell some more flowers after. Assuming they didn’t hit things off well and she could persuade Zack to skip out on a whole day of work.

Some hesitation the next day. Yes, he was gorgeous and smiled. Yes, she had thought about him for the last week. Conversely; yes, he seemed easily distracted. Rules set before meeting him: he had to be good company or she would abandon this messy situation post-haste.

Three minutes into their first date Zack asked her what kind of dog an armadillo was; she was smitten.

Something of a shame Zack was set to ship back off to Junon in a few hours. And he took his job seriously – no skipping out of work for girlfriends, however much she smiled and hinted. None of the more subtle elements of her body language seemed to find their mark. Her chest drew his attention at least.

Chapter Text

Dating a SOLDIER should sound like an absurd prospect. Her, former lab rat, dating him, a key component in the militaristic enforcement branch of Shinra’s empire. Different to the Turks, but no less deadly. Zack had no idea who Aeris was and little to no dealings with the science division. No say in the running of the company. He was theoretically keeping President Shinra safe and oh so tempting to try and persuade him to not dive in the way of an attack and keep his beautiful – if beautifully marred – face safe.

The other complication was his routines; guard duty was regular but spaced out. No one in SOLDIER liked doing it, but the internals of the organisation was not something he was entirely keen to discuss either. Yes, he knew Sephiroth in a vague personal way, but there was no sense of a connection there. Zack let slip he was theoretically ranked the same level as Sephiroth – First class – but Sephiroth could and would wipe the floor with him and any other SOLDIER who wound up facing him in training.

Aeris did not mind; talking about Shinra was not why she was spending time with Zack. Although; insider scoops on Sephiroth might sell well to the right people but doing so was risky. Best not to chance losing Zack already or drawing more of Shinra’s attention to her. Not losing the warmth of his embrace, how good a kiss could feel and it sparked a desire for something more. But Zack’s long hours cut down the time they spent together; lunches, dinners, the odd trip to the cinema. Some subtle – and not so subtle - hints in conversation had him contemplating using his next term of leave in Midgar and not hanging around Junon. To see Aeris he hastily clarified.

Each time they parted ways, Aeris left their meet ups grinning, warm and mostly content and eager for next time. Spending time with Zack was fun. The potentially more private activities between them became continually postponed; so little time and few decent locations for those kinds of moments. Something else to explore together on his leave.

The schedule disrupted two months prior to his next scheduled time off; ordered back to Junon for an overseas mission. Aeris waited out the next two months but never saw Zack again.

As with Lily, as with Mother, the words never came for Zack. An awkward limbo situation; alive or dead? His job was dangerous enough he could easily have returned to the Planet. Aeris could ask Shinra, but drawing their attention came with so many risks. Far better to wait or accept the other possibility; Zack lived, but found some reason to never come back to Midgar. He no longer seemed to have assignment at the Shinra building; perhaps now he was now stationed permanently at Junon? Perhaps he found a partner on his mission? Someone else who made him react as Aeris had; a complete shut-down of critical thoughts and the awakening of rampant desire.

Jerk.

If so, so be it. Still hurt; she wanted to hold him, wanted to see him again. A black mood persisted, but each day the pain lessened. Each day she missed him a fractional less. Rarely considered he might have returned to the Planet. He’d run off with someone else; must have. An excellent reason to have nothing more to do with him – he cheated and thus now unwelcome. Still; better him losing interest in her than returning to the Planet and her unable to hear him, or missing him because of where in Midgar she was.

Zack’s future deviated from hers; she would move on without him.

Chapter Text

Moving on took time but Aeris succeeded. Other men, other women. None who short-circuited her head the same way, but pleasurable times with a number of romantic interests. Forever frustrating when a specific shade of purple caught her eye. Never him though; always another SOLDIER. Most paid no attention to her, and the one ones who did approach were only interested in buying flowers for their dates. Also fine; not like she planned on dating another SOLDIER.

An assertion he tested in the aftermath of the destruction of Mako Reactor One. Or not; he was no longer in the organization and she never considered ex-SOLDIERs.

Aeris kept her footing when the thunder tore through the air, when the plate rumbled and near wobbled beneath her heels. Nightmare notions of the supports breaking and the plate crashing down through the empty air to smash into the Sector One slums, everyone on either side of the plate likely perishing. She almost kept her footing in the panic following the explosion, when people fled away from the station and towards the bridges leading into Sector Seven. A panicked man clipped her and knocked her to the ground.

Aeris struggled to her feet, heart racing; the all too plausible risk of trampling uppermost in her mind. She was fine. Her dress would need washing after, but her flowers remained in their basket. Perhaps an idea to think of heading for home. She turned-

Purple. Heart skip. Had Zack dyed his hair? No. While the SOLDIER’s his eyes exhibited the same tell-tale glow and his hair was similarly spiked, they were blue eyes and the hair was blond. Smaller, lither. No smile and weirdly – oh so weirdly – headed away from the reactor. A SOLDIER should head towards such a thing, should he not? Or was he headed back to the Shinra building? Immaterial. His gaze met hers and flicked down- He stopped. “Flowers? Don’t see many of those around here.”

Aeris grinned, her familiar performance routines coming to life almost unbidden. “Oh, these? Would you like to buy one? They’re-“ Never did get around to asking if SOLDIERs were rich. But flowers impressed Zack. Most SOLDIERs liked the curios. But this blond; he stared at the flowers like he had not seen anything like them in years. “-One gil.”

A steal; an absurd bargain. He hesitated and fumbled for a wallet. Also curious; plastic, pink and with a Saturday morning cartoon character on the side. If he felt embarrassment he gave not a sign. Later she would learn the wallet technically belonged to Marlene Wallace which explained a few things. He handed her the coin and paused. “Which-“ Another hesitation.

Aeris plucked one of the brightest flowers from the basket. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” He gazed at the flower, entranced. With a shake of his head, he hurried away, headed down into the plaza. The way she should be going; this close to midnight and after an explosion. Shinra would concentrate their attention here shortly.

The blond SOLDIER slipped her mind after; another SOLDIER, another customer. Unusual and stronger reaction than the norm to seeing the flowers but little more to consider. A shock when he came crashing down on top of her the next day and flipped to his feet in a movement recalling Zack all over again. Little gestures and the rhythm of a sentence. A connection or coincidence or the result of military discipline?

Cloud Strife; former SOLDIER, aligned with Avalanche and fighting back against Shinra. Amazing. And despite some initial similarities, so different to Zack. He played at cold and aloof, but it was an act and not a good one; all too easy to pierce and find someone so much warmer, friendlier and funnier beneath.

Someone who could laugh with her. Indulge her less plausible lies. Who accepted bodyguard duty with nothing but a date as payment. But it was Tifa who truly sold her on Cloud. And, it would turn out, Tifa. The woman had arms to die for. Oh, she had Aeris thinking some delightful ideas. But Cloud was so concerned and so invested in their attempt to infiltrate Don Corneo’s and find out why Tifa was there.

Getting Cloud to cross-dress was at first purely a notion to capitalise on his androgynous good looks. Cloud was initially reticent but came around fast. And started building on the notion. A dress and a wig was the limits Aeris figured would work; Cloud added perfume, underwear and make-up. Along with Tifa, he and Aeris became three beauties to offer up to the lech. And Cloud did his job so well he was the one Corneo selected.

The point she fell for him; to care so much to go to such effort for another. The feelings came only a touch sooner than they did for Tifa. Impossible to choose between either potential date. A more modern consideration: why make the choice between them? Obvious vestiges of attraction between the three of them; why not ask both out? How would they find her idea?

Few chances to broach it in the assorted aftermaths befalling them.

When Don Corneo informed them of Shinra’s framing of Avalanche with the massed death of Sector Seven.

When she was back in Hojo’s clutches, her world shrunk down to a tiny room; so much smaller than at Mom’s house.

No flowers.

No books or snacks.

No freedom.

No Mom.

Her freedoms lost; her clothes taken and replaced with the awful rough fabric of long before. Her flowers might persist in the church and in Mom’s garden, but her new friends would be gone. Might already been gone when the plate fell.

Escape became a new concern. Mother managed it once long ago; Aeris should be able to achieve a similar outcome. But before she could try – and against the odds – Cloud and Tifa came for her. They and Barret escaped Sector Seven and lived. While neither of them provoked the words, there seemed so little chance of them surviving events at the pillar – and the words had never been consistent inside the Shinra building.

So many others in the sector did not make it. So many deaths at Shinra’s hands. And one for whom the words should have come but did not; Wedge.

Aeris had talked to him as he lay dying on the ground. Sector Six and Seven not conducive to the words it seemed. At least the words had not come when she hurried with Marlene to Sector Five.

No need to fight an impulse to tell the young girl of Wedge’s return to the Planet.

No need to consider recording the words in her book before Tseng snatched her away.

Chapter Text

Leaving Midgar was like leaving the labs all over again. The world widened and heightened further than conceivable. She knew – of course – the world was so much vaster than Midgar, but peering out into the world from the edge of the city did not compare to running barefoot across the grassland. Feeling the rain fall and the heat of the sun. All too quickly she discovered sun-burn, but there was so much more here. Other flowers to touch, to smell. Newer and unfamiliar foods to taste. A whole slew of new textures and people to meet.

But more people increased the chances the words would come to her again. Aeris did not say the words for President Shinra or any of those slain in the Shinra building. She held them back for people in Kalm, and recorded them; starting afresh in a new notebook. Her third book to hold the words. The words came after Fort Condor, Junon and Costa del Sol. All faithfully recorded. None for the deaths in the Gold Saucer, but-

Aeris perched on the wreck of a burnt out car not far outside the desert compound of the Corel Desert – once the town of North Corel. She kicked her heels, bored and too hot. The air was dry, the faint breeze too warm to offer any relief. Trapped under the open sky until Barret completed his business with Dyne; an unexpected relic from his past. She waited here with her new friends. Still a shame the decision to reveal her past had not been hers. At least her heritage and her nature did not seem to affect how they treated her. She was the flower girl and part of Avalanche.

The people she travelled with liked spending time with her, laughed and joked with her. People she could day-dream about – and might, when this was over, consider asking out. Not yet. But they had waited too long, the group too quiet-

Echoing cracks of thunder in the distance. The Barret had gone; the noise roused Avalanche, each of them concerned and wary. Barret would be okay. He had to be okay. Aeris opened her mouth to assure the group and the words almost tumbled out. For Marlene. For Barret. A blink. A relief. Barret had not returned to the Planet. But someone else had.

Marlene and Barret Wallace. Someone close to them had returned to the Planet. Not hard to figure out the truth before Barret returned, his gaze sombre. Marlene’s biological father was now dead and his last thoughts went to his daughter and her adoptive Father. He would not want a reminder and Marlene was far too distant to tell. She could not say the words to Barret. Not something she wanted to say to anyone. Aeris scribbled the words in her notebook late at night when no one would ask what she wrote.

Gongaga sparked concerns, confusion and called old assumptions into questions. No answers there but a narrowing of possibilities. At Cosmo Canyon the Elders dashed a fleeting hope and told her she was the last of her kind. All the new delights their latest stop provided could not eclipse a new, glaring and unwanted certainty of her life.

No one else who could understand or feel the need relate to the words she wanted to. No one to tell her how to deal with them. No other weirdo in the world; another Cetra who had the same weird moniker as her, or better yet, one who had learned how to hide or embrace it. She remained alone and apart despite her friends; no one to advise on how to deal with her knowledge. Events rushed by after as Avalanche nipped at Sephiroth’s heels.

She might have asked Cloud to accompany her during Enchantment Night as a way of paying what she owed, but it helped her push forward, to move on once more. She was alone as a Cetra, but she still had her friends. She had those wonderful little moments with Cloud and Tifa both. Honestly, if she could have gotten them both to come along on Enchantment Night, she would. The night settled the debt she owed Cloud, gave her the chance to admit the strange complexities of his association with Zack. After the Temple – after the completion of this next step – she would make more changes. Continue to see the world. Ask Cloud and Tifa out. Be weird. Find her own path.

One little mission for the Planet first.