Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was love at first sight. 

Or so Zack thought. Hot and intense like the burning sun in the Gongagan desert that made his stomach knot and his heart pound so hard he thought it might burst. There was a skip in his step when he returned to Floor 63 that he had failed to notice until Kunsel rounded the corner and pointed it out. 

“Are you lovestruck?” his friend asked as a way of greeting. 

“Wha—huh!?”

Kunsel blinked, folded his arms, and cocked his head to the side. “Funny reaction you’ve got for a hand-off joke.”

There was no stopping the blush that quickly rose to his face, covering every inch from his neck all the way to his hairline. Even if Zack had managed to hide his face, his ears would have given it away. It was a funny feeling. Zack had never thought his blood would boil so much outside of the exhilaration of training and battlefields. But then it was excitement, not… mortification, that shook his core. 

“Huh,” Kunsel muttered under his breath. 

“You’ve got it wro—”

“You’ve got a funny grin and you were humming,” Kunsel went on. “And now you’re red.”

Zack shut down his grin. 

“I was certain—well, almost certain anyway that you'd broken a bone or two that needed mending after the fall you took,” Kunsel added. “Gone for a day and a half and not a word to even your superiors. But I guess my worry was unwarranted.”

Zack opened his mouth, but whatever rebuttals that came to mind now sounded weak because he hadn’t told his superiors about surviving the fall—hadn’t even had a sliver of thought about it because after he woke up at the church on a bed of flowers with a girl with eyes like the brightest emeralds calling down from above, there had been no other thought to be had than how heavenly she had looked with the dappled morning sun shining from behind her. 

An angel, he had thought and said so afterwards. He had been quite sure he’d been well on his way to the afterlife, but the angel had smiled and let out a soft, ticklish laugh. 

“I’m Aerith,” she had said, and Zack had found himself stumbling over the edge and falling—falling into those bottomless pools of verdant green that brimmed with life. 

And then he heard a snap, and he was back in the bright, stainless corridor of Shinra HQ. Kunsel had his fingers in front of Zack, his mouth curving halfway between a smirk and a frown. He decided to smirk as he leaned back on his heels. 

“I see,” he said. 

“What?” Zack asked, defensive.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed your time.”

“It's not—”

“I hope it lasts longer than your casual flings.”

“Hey—”

“Was she pretty?”

The prettiest girl to ever grace the Planet. But Zack wasn’t going to admit that. Not when Kunsel was enjoying this at his expense. 

But Kunsel’s fun seemed to be nearing its end when he checked his watch, waved a carefree hand, and stepped around him. A resounding ding echoed in the silence and the elevator door opened. “Glad you survived the fall,” he said. “Introduce me to her some time.” And then he disappeared amongst the masses and into the waiting tube. The door closed after new passengers entered; the elevator flew down. 

Uncanny, Zack thought, as though Kunsel had timed his assault and retreat so precisely. It left Zack speechless. How the guy had not made it to First Class was beyond him. 

It was love at first sight. 

Or so Aerith thought. Like the spot of sunlight that came in through the broken roof of the church. Or the kiss of gentle breeze as she tended to the flowers in her garden. They swayed and danced, their yellow petals perking up at the touch of her hand or the slightest lilt in her voice as she hummed a verse she’d thought long forgotten. Warm and blissful, enveloping her in such a way that she felt safe.

She heard the steps, then looked up to see Elmyra approaching. 

“Did something good happen today?” her foster mother asked. 

Aerith fought to keep her smile from spreading wider. “Maybe,” she said. 

Her mother tilted her head, tried to pry more from her, but Aerith wasn’t in the mood to share. At least, not today, not when this was only a budding feeling taking root in her heart. She’d wait; she’d have to see: how far he would go and how far he would come for her. He was SOLDIER. He came from a place she’d sworn to avoid. And yet, he’d felt different. He was like a ray of sunshine, so full of life and spirit, brighter even than the sun that graced her flowerbed. When she’d found him sprawled in her church, she had for sure thought he had died. But his chest had moved; his deep, steady breaths making his jet-black bangs slowly sway. The flowers said they had softened his fall, but even if that were so, any normal person wouldn’t have survived the high fall he’d taken (surely it had been more than a hundred meters; there was nothing above the church except the plates). Which only meant he wasn’t normal, and how right she was when he’d revealed to her that he worked for Shinra. 

A twig snapped between Aerith’s fingers as she was pulling weeds from her flowerbeds. 

For a person like that to pull her in, to ask her for a date and promise her another, to make her feel seen and safe even when they barely knew anything about one another. 

Elmyra still stood on the steps leading to the garden. A soft smile had fallen over her features. She took the last few steps then crouched beside Aerith, helping her with her weeding. 

“That's a nice ribbon you got,” Elmyra said. “Found it in the market?”

She did, though she probably wouldn’t have gotten it for herself. The pink ribbon Zack bought for her sat snugly on the back of her hair, decorating her otherwise plain braid. 

“It looks nice on you.”

Aerith smiled.

“Seems like a nice person,” Elmyra tried again. 

“He is.”

“He?”

Aerith met her mother’s gaze and found it crinkling. In joy? Interest? Either way, it made her mother a busy-body, and Aerith tried to brush it off with a scoff despite the heat rising to her cheeks. 

“I would like to know about this boy who’s gotten my daughter into a bubbling mess.”

“It's not like that, mom, and I’m not bubbly,” Aerith said defensively, though she couldn’t quite keep the laugh out of her voice.

“You sure are. Other people might not notice, but you haven’t stopped smiling since you got home. And you were singing. I haven’t heard you sing since you started living here.”

“I was humming, not singing; there’s a difference," Aerith said. "And I still do, hum, mom." 

“All right, all right.” Elmyra chuckled. 

They finished weeding by the time the sun was about to set. The flowers washed over her with their scents: lilies, daffodils, cattails. She had to remember to pick some up for the orphanage tomorrow. Maybe Zack would come and give her a hand. But he was probably too busy. SOLDIER duties and all. He’d returned rather quickly that day because of a call he’d received. Still, Aerith couldn’t help imagining it: her introducing him to everyone—introducing him to Elmyra. She’d like him; Aerith was sort of sure. 

“Well.” She abruptly stood up, swiping dirt and debris from the hem of her skirt. “I’m hungry.”

She gathered the weeds and twigs, her mother doing the same. 

“I made some steak,” Elmyra said. “The butcher had some leftovers and sold me half the price. Said something about someone giving him too much meat to work with.”

That… might’ve been Zack. Someone had asked him to clear the path outside Sector 5, and he’d gotten carried away with it. He’d given the beasts to the butcher when the butcher showed the slimmest interest in acquiring them. Zack hadn’t accepted the money. 

It’s a funny feeling, to have Zack served their table before she had officially introduced him to her mother. Her smile came unbidden. “Let’s go, then,” she said, and she returned to their house with a little skip in her step. 

~ END ~

Chapter Text

When Zack came into the church that day, Aerith thought they could spend the day outside. He’d been away for the entire week. The kids at Sector 5 said they missed “the big brother with the big sword”. Maybe Zack would indulge them in a game or two. And the sky looked clear; even with the plates, Aerith could tell when rain clouds had gathered. That particular day, the clouds that had hung ominously the entire week had frayed without even one drop of rain. A brief respite, perhaps? All the more reason to enjoy the sun as best they could. But when Zack entered the church with his face cast down and a sluggish gait to his steps, all plans for a date disappeared from Aerith’s mind.

Aerith rose half-way to her feet, his name at the tip of her tongue just waiting to be said, but before she could, Zack looked up and his face split into a smile—if one could call a stiff crook of his lips a smile. It didn’t even reach his eyes, as his smiles often did. “Aerith!” he called in a forced cheerfulness that, coupled with the way his brows drew back and his voice trembled ever so slightly, broke her heart. But Zack reached her nonetheless, feigning vigor and carefreeness, and asked her, “Were you waiting for me?”

Aerith knew grief when she saw it. She’d felt it herself before when her mother passed away; witnessed it not long after when Elmyra received word of her husband’s demise. She was no stranger to it, as was she not a stranger to how she had handled it. It had been precisely like how Zack was trying to hold up now, acting like everything was fine despite the tears she spied welling in his eyes. He blinked them away, saying dust was caught in his eye. And maybe it did. She decided to play along. Zack rewarded her with a laugh, quiet and languid, his eyes cast down once more, before he perked up—or attempted to—and crouched down by the flowerbed. 

Aerith gingerly sat across from him, carefully listening to him talk and muse about SOLDIER and Shinra and training and missions. About someone named Kunsel and Cissnei and Luxiere. How they were out of his favorite sandwich that morning in the cafeteria and he had to settle for some disgusting gray gruel. “Said it was good for stamina,” he went on. “Well, not good if it twists your stomach and locks you in a bathroom for a good hour afterwards. Kunsel said I just have a bad constitution, but I say his stomach is made of steel. Not that it’d mattered to him. He'd gotten the sandwich and not the gruel.”

Aerith figured she should laugh, but Zack’s face was oddly unanimated telling such a funny story that she felt a laugh would be out of place. It was disconcerting seeing him so listless. He’d always been full of energy, his presence like a shining beacon of light as though his soul was composed of nothing but sunlight. Aerith often stole glances at him as they worked at the flowerbed. He didn’t notice; or maybe he didn’t care. She’d offer responses, enough to make him continue talking. Because talking was good. Talking would distract him. She remembered how Elmyra would get her to talk—about flowers or food or her new home or the ribbon she wore. Got her to come to the kitchen and help with the cooking. Anything to distract her, really, because once she got quiet and the memories rushed in, she would plunge into a never ending spiral of self-loathing with only one sentence hammered into her brain: it was her fault her mother had died. 

Zack had gotten quiet. Aerith stole another look. His usually bright blue eyes were dull, like a faraway sky, locked in some distant recollection. Aerith searched for something to say. Then her eyes found the abandoned flower wagon they’d started building halfway before, and she began to ask, “Zack—”

She had barely said anything when Zack took a sudden sharp intake of breath. His eyes flew wild, gasping as though he’d just broken through water. And then he met her gaze, and Aerith saw the raw, unbridled fear, regret, and guilt swimming across those navy orbs, chipping away at the crooked cheerful mask he’d attempted to don and failed to regain. 

“I—” His voice broke. Tears welled and it seemed to take his all to keep them at bay. “I’m sorry,” he managed to say. He stood up. “I’ll make this up to you. I promise.” He backed away and probably meant to rush out, but halfway down the aisle, his legs crumbled under him. Then the sobs came, every rock of his body sent a shattering tremble to Aerith’s heart. Had it felt like this when Elmyra saw her broken self? Wanting to do something but unable to do anything. Knowing full well that whatever she said would not bring back whoever Zack had lost. Her own eyes brimmed with tears. 

Outside, the sun was still out. Aerith could imagine the sky spreading far and wide beyond the plates. Boundless. Endless. 

“Hey, Zack,” she began, fighting against the lump in her throat. “The sky is closer in the city above, right?” She rose to her feet. “Kinda scary, but the flowers might like it… maybe.”

The flowers at her feet swayed in a non-existent wind as though in confirmation, but when Aerith looked back, her attempt at distraction hadn’t ceased Zack’s sobs at all. 

Perhaps it hadn’t been distractions that Zack needed after all. He’d had plenty of it, judging from his ramble. He was seeking a quiet haven, free from prying eyes. Gods knew how many times Aerith had sought it—why she had sought the church all those years ago. And that was what it had become to Zack; what she had become to him, just like how Elmyra had coaxed her out of her little hiding spot in her room and pulled her into her arms. Aerith had never felt safer in all her life. 

Zack’s back shook. Somewhere along the way, it had shrunk, and before her was not the savvy SOLDIER who had crash-landed into her life, but a distraught seventeen-year-old boy who was trying his best to hold his ground while his world fell apart. Aerith moved and wrapped Zack inside her arms, small as they were.

“It’s not your fault, Zack,” she whispered to his ear.

Zack’s breath hitched, his body going taut. For a split second, Aerith thought she’d stepped over a line, but Zack instead grabbed her hands and cried into them. 

Later, she let him sleep on her lap. His eyes were puffy, but his breathing was even. He didn’t stir even when Aerith brushed his bangs back and patted his head. Aerith didn’t know what he had gone through, but she hoped he would tell her someday. With their fingers interlocked over his chest, rising and falling in a steady rhythm, she would like to think that he trusted her that much at least. She would be his rock and haven when all else failed him. 

With that silent vow taking root firmly in her heart, Aerith bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. Zack seemed to smile in his sleep.

~ END ~

Chapter Text

Rain fell. It pittered and pattered against stone and wood and every leaf and blade of grass the forest had to offer. Zack blinked open his eyes. 

His head was fuzzy, an ache pounding slowly from inside his skull. Bile rose up his throat and he threw it up, heaving and gasping, blinking back tears and rain and squinting against the dark. Dusk had settled. He didn’t quite remember how he got there. They’d been running out of Nibelheim—well, he’d been dragging Cloud out of Nibelheim—doing his best to dispatch the troops stationed around the uncanny normal-looking village (because he was quite sure he’d seen it burn just the other night) when a shot pierced his ears. He’d staggered, saw blood dripping from a graze in his arm, then the man who’d shot it standing just behind the water tower. He shuffled back when Zack found him. In one swift movement, he’d grabbed a discarded knife and threw it across the air. It’d hit the man on his shoulder. Zack hadn’t waited to see what had become of him—he shouldn’t have died—but their commotion should have alerted the remaining troops, and somehow between then and now, Zack had managed to find refuge in this forest unscathed.

He noticed a bloodied bandage around his arm. At least he’d done a somewhat proper treatment before passing out. Now he looked around for his charge and found Cloud still propped against a jutting rock exactly where he’d left him some hours ago. The man hadn’t moved, not even an inch. His chest rose in steady rhythms and his half-lidded mako blue eyes stared silently at the ground. Zack wanted to think that his friend was only dozing, but he knew better. There was almost no going back from mako poisoning. He’d seen too many candidates fail the SOLDIER test, fell from the list and were discarded just like that. 

“Don’t worry, Cloud,” he said, pushing himself to his feet. He nudged Cloud’s head with a knuckle and, receiving no response, pulled him to his feet and propped him against his shoulder. “We’ll get you home and find you a doctor.”

They were still in the Nibel area so they had to be careful with their movements. Kunsel had informed him via mail that a battalion was coming for a couple escaped experiment subjects. No doubt he’d meant them. Avoiding it wouldn’t be hard, Zack thought. It was the Turks that worried him. They were sure to be deployed and he was certain they would find him. Hiding in a dark forest might delay them but it would certainly not stop them. He had to find a hiding place. 

Think, Zack!  

The forest hadn’t looked so eerie when he first got there, but now he couldn’t help the chills running down his spine. It wasn’t ghosts he was afraid of. He didn’t believe in ghosts, though he wouldn’t mind seeing one or two at the moment. If Angeal were there, he might have an idea where to go and what to do. No; it wasn't ghosts he feared, but men. The shadows were thick the farther he went. Anyone could be hiding anywhere without his notice, despite his heightened SOLDIER sense not picking up another presence. When lightning flashed and turned the forest white, the shadows seemed to lengthen, prompting Zack to stop dead in his tracks. Half his mind was ready to reach for his buster sword while the other half was confident he hadn’t heard footsteps. But what good were footsteps if Shinra had deployed their assassins. Those men left no sound as they executed their duties. Zack’s hand was almost at his sword hilt when the light vanished and the shadows along with it. His PHS beeped just as thunder cracked the sky and split his ears.

Curse Kunsel and his timing. Zack’s heart was still racing when he opened the new message and read:

WHERE ARE YOU?

Zack could almost hear Kunsel’s scream. But if Kunsel didn’t know his whereabouts, Zack doubted Shinra’s Intelligence knew about it. A small relief, though short-lived for sure. Zack still couldn’t feel another presence in the forest. He decided to trust his senses and stashed his PHS back in his pocket, then dragged the comatose Cloud farther into the forest.  

A small cave nestled on top of a rocky upsloping looked like a haven after what seemed like hours of walking. It was more a hollow than a cave, with stone walls on both sides and a ceiling made of dirt. Roots and twigs protruded from its surface. But it was dry and seemed to be big enough for the two of them. Zack set Cloud down, tried his best to wring water from his uniform. If only he had a blanket or could start a fire. Cloud wasn’t shivering at the least, but the cold would get him. Zack was starting to shiver and he had bested colder climates before just in his SOLDIER garb. 

“Hey, Cloud,” he called softly. Cloud didn’t respond, as he knew Cloud wouldn’t. Zack sighed. There was nothing to do but wait until morning. 

Rain poured outside so hard, Zack almost thought the sky was pelting rocks. And maybe they were, in a sense. He leaned against the rough stone wall after wringing water from his own uniform and looked outside. Aerith once said she didn’t like the rain. It reminded her of things she’d rather forget. He’d asked what it was, but Aerith had only smiled and asked him to sell flowers with her. 

What was she doing now, he wondered. How was she holding up? The wish she’d penned on a piece of paper so he wouldn’t forget was still tucked away in his pocket. He reached for it now and found it damp. The writing had become somewhat illegible, but maybe that was because of the lack of light. Zack’s lips pulled into a wry smile. 

I’ll come visit, he’d said. I’ll see you, he’d promised. And now he was stuck out here in the middle of a storm thick in enemy territory, hanging onto the little hope that Aerith was still waiting for him in Midgar. 

“Hey, Zack,” Aerith said. “What’s it like outside?”

They were sitting on one of the pews, doing nothing but gaze at the rain pouring from the break in the roof. It had been that way for a while now. He should probably be getting back. His PHS had been notifying new incoming mails for the past fifteen minutes. But he and Aerith were sharing the baked potatoes her mother had asked her to take. One more bite, he kept telling himself, but his hand grabbed one potato after another until there was only one left in the container. He wouldn’t have any reasons to prolong his stay after this.

Zack bit into his last not-quite-hot-anymore potato. “Well…” He pondered, deliberately slowing his munching. The sky seemed to light up briefly beyond the roof, followed by distant rumbling that didn’t quite reach them. Beside him, Aerith noticeably stiffened before she relaxed once the thunder passed. He decided to go with a teasing answer. “It’s raining outside.”

Aerith’s features twisted into a dumbfounded look for a few heartbeats before she whipped her hand and slapped his arm. “That’s not what I meant!” she exclaimed with a laugh. Zack laughed with her. “I mean what it’s like when it’s not raining. You go around a lot of places, right?”

“Right.” He kept on munching, slowly, savoring every bite. 

Aerith didn’t take her eyes off him. “Well?”

“Well…” He leaned back and gazed at the plates barely visible through the sheet of water. His PHS beeped again. Another message: a mission or two to keep monsters out or bring something back. Other times, he would be sent to the most obscure locations in the Planet to obtain some rare materials needed for some highly-advanced technology development. Quelling rebellions was still his job too whenever the company deemed it necessary. 

As he recalled his past missions, his mind conjured pictures of vast green plains and sprawling hills, snow-capped mountains and deep red canyons. He told her of the westernmost continent called Wutai he had the chance to visit the previous year with its pink cherry blossom trees and huge pagoda castles. He told her of the small isolated islands off the main continents where springs of blue and green water shot up to the sky like sparkling crystals. 

“They sound beautiful,” Aerith said. 

They really were. Zack remembered how the sight of it had taken his breath away that he had forgotten what he had been sent to do. He looked at Aerith. “I’ll take you there someday,” he promised. 

Aerith’s smile was wistful, as though she didn’t quite believe him but appreciated the thought. Zack was about to say that he really would take her there somewhere, maybe once they’d made some money from their flower selling to afford traveling abroad, when lightning flashed once more. This time, the thunder cracked the sky so loud, and Aerith screamed next to him. 

“Why are you so afraid of thunder?” Zack asked.

“I’m not,” Aerith replied bravely, though her voice shook ever so slightly. “It’s just the loud sound they make. It’s the rain I don't like.” 

“Why?”

Aerith glanced at him. She didn’t say anything. But when she looked away, Zack noticed the way her brows drew back just like when she talked about the sky. He wondered if the two were connected. 

In the end, she didn’t answer, and he finished his last potato. He needed to head back. Someone was calling his PHS now: it was his superior. He told her just that. Aerith looked crestfallen, but she smiled and waved at him. 

“Be careful,” she said. “I’d lend you an umbrella if I’d brought one.”

“Don't worry about it. SOLDIERs are made of sturdier stuff. No storm would get us down.”

“Don't go crawling to me with a heavy flu then.”

Zack chuckled. He made to leave. Aerith turned around on her bench to watch him go. “Careful of the ghosts, Zack! It’s gotten dark out.”

That made him laugh. 

Birdsong raised Zack from his sleep, followed by a sharp pain shooting up his neck and back. He’d fallen asleep in a weird position, it seemed: his neck crooked and his back slouched. Sunlight slanted in through the cave mouth, blinding his eyes for a second. Zack groaned, stretching his arms and muscles and trying to free them from their cramps. 

Cloud was still in his unmoving state. It unnerved him somewhat. Zack crawled over to him, his voice coming out in a croak as he called Cloud’s name. He reached out a hand, and sure enough, Cloud’s face felt hot. 

Still in a half-groggy state, Zack fumbled for his pockets. He remembered snatching a potion or two from the mansion. He didn’t know whether they’d gone past their expiration date, but it was better than nothing. It’d at least keep the fever at bay until Zack could find a village and a doctor. 

It was hard moving around. His clothes were stiff, his skin was sticky. His damp hair hung in clumps. He needed a bath. Cloud needed a drink. There should be a lake somewhere nearby. He was reaching to grab Cloud's arm when he noticed a piece of stiff paper on the ground:

Aerith’s wish, still lying where his hand had been. He picked it up. Her writing had indeed become illegible, but he could still make out some words: like to, time, you. 

I'd like to spend more time with you. 

It was light out. Ghosts didn’t exist. Zack had figured Aerith had only been trying to scare him when she’d warned him of the ghosts, because she had been grinning too afterwards, but now he wondered if she had been telling half-truths. Had ghosts appeared before her on dark rainy days? Perhaps ghosts of people she’d loved or people she’d lost conjured purely out of her desperation to see them. Last night, Zack wouldn’t have minded if Angeal had visited him if it meant he could find a safe road. Now, staring at Aerith’s slanted handwriting, he couldn’t help wishing Aerith would magically materialize in front of him.

~ END ~

Chapter Text

The garden she had planted was now in full bloom. It’d started with a patch of dirt just outside their little cottage, which Zack had built for her. When he’d returned, he’d immediately dropped to one knee and asked her to marry him. There had been no hesitation when Aerith said yes. Happiness had burst out in an elated scream as she’d jumped into his arms and met him halfway in a passionate kiss. Next, he’d found her a little stretch of land far from the prying eyes of Midgar’s foremost electrical company. He wanted to free her from her cage, he’d said; though after everything they’d been through, Aerith doubted Shinra would still chase after her. It was there where he built her a little cottage, and it was there where, after diligently plowing the land year after year, the small patch of flowerbed she had planted now blossomed into the most beautiful and breathtaking garden she had ever seen. 

“You could make a whole park out of this,” Zack once said. 

Indeed, her garden was no mere flower garden one could find in any old backyard. With the help of Zack and all of their friends, Aerith had somehow gathered every kind of flower seed the Planet had to offer, and now it colored her entire yard in a plethora of pigments, shades, and scents. It was hard work taking care of each one and fulfilling all of their needs, but the land was rife with lifestream. What should have taken some twenty or more workers could be done by Aerith herself. With a flick of her hand, she could direct where the stream had to go. She would sometimes head to where attention was needed most (which was usually due to pests or weeds). The blooms rarely died or got ill. 

To be perfectly honest, Aerith thought the abundant lifestream was partly to blame at how vast her garden had spread. She’d only meant to build a small patch like the one she had at the sector 5 church, or perhaps the one she’d cultivated in front of Elmyra’s house. But one day when she got out of bed just as the sun hit the horizon, she saw the blossoms had reached the distant hills behind their house in dots of pink and yellow.

Aerith was making her way toward that said hill now. It overlooked the valley where her cottage stood. On the other side, the landscape opened to another stretch of plain that ended in a strip of sandy beach. Ocean as far as the eye could see spread before her. The waves were mostly tranquil, but once in a while, they would lap at each other, racing inland before retreating back. Some days, Aerith wondered how Zack had managed to find such a lovely spot. 

At the top of the hill stood an aged lone tree. Its trunk was wide; its thick, gnarled roots poked the earth in ways that provided hollows to sit or settle for an afternoon nap. There, she found Zack leaning against the trunk, dozing quietly. The dense boughs shielded him from the glare of the sun, and the soft breeze from the sea offered cool respite after a day’s work. The perfect place, as he liked to say. 

Aerith crouched before him, a smile playing across her lips. He didn’t stir when she called his name. She touched his face, brushed his bangs away from his eyes. He looked so peaceful. She hadn’t seen him like this for a very long time. In fact, she couldn’t quite remember when that was. When she tried to recall anything before the time Zack returned to Midgar, her memory was fragmented at best. She remembered their final call; she remembered the sleepless nights waiting for his return. A part of her thought he never did, but if that was true, then who was this sleeping before her? What were these—the garden and cottage and sky and ocean? A little girl was sleeping on the second floor of their house, with eyes as blue as his and hair as brown as hers. Was her daughter a lie too? 

Whenever Aerith tried to recall, the pit of her stomach would jolt, and an excruciating pain would shoot up her body, leaving her gasping for air. She’d always expected to find blood there only for her hand to come out clean. She’d asked Bugenhagen once, and the old sage only said to rest her mind. She was never satisfied with his answer, but if the simple wish to retread her memories brought forth such powerful rejection from her body, maybe there was merit in taking his advice. 

Zack stirred under her touch. He blinked back sleep, squinting against the light. When his bleary eyes found hers, he broke into a content smile.

“Good morning,” he said. 

Aerith chuckled under her breath. “Good afternoon, mister.”

“What time is it?”

“Just a little past three. Ifalna is still asleep.”

“Like father, like daughter, eh?” He reached up and cupped her cheek, bringing her face closer for a kiss. He smiled wider. “Now that’s a good way to wake someone up.”

“Oh you,” Aerith said with a playful swat at his chest. But she was smiling nonetheless. 

Zack looked at her. “Something on your mind?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your forehead has a tendency to wrinkle when you’re thinking of something difficult. Like, so.” He pressed a finger to her forehead, and instantly, Aerith found herself laughing. 

She rose to her feet and grabbed her husband’s arm. “Get up. Help me decide what to make for dinner.”

“But it’s still nice out, and it’s only three in the afternoon.” With a quick tug of his hand, Aerith’s knees buckled from under her and she tumbled onto his chest. Zack’s arms quickly circled around her. As he adjusted his position against the trunk and roots, Aerith soon found herself locked in his warm embrace. Zack sighed. “This is more like it.”

Looking up from her position, Aerith found Zack had already closed his eyes again, but the smirk on his face told her he wasn’t quite sleeping. She had a mind to tease him, but being in his arms with the cottage and garden on one side, and the sky and sea on the other—Aerith couldn’t help the blissfulness enveloping her heart. Soft salty wind caressed her cheek. She found herself staring at the blue-tinted sky where the sun was slowly making its way to the distant horizon.

Sighing in contentment, Aerith settled her head against the crook of his neck. 

It really was the perfect place indeed.

~ END ~