Author’s Note: This is just a one-shot about Cloud thinking blah blah blah the recent. I got inspired by Arashi’s song, “Hero”; it’s Japanese, but the meaning’s worth it. Final Fantasy VII© is owned and copyrighted to Square Enix, which of course I also don’t own. If I did, it, Advent Children would be ugly. Anyway, on going, enjoy reading this cheesy shot, and don’t forget to drop by a review!

Hero

He walked at the sacred floors of the ruined church, reminiscing for what he had, and what he had lost. Of what seemed like only yesterday, all he ever did was to stand, and watch, never to realize he’s waiting for her to be gone.

He knelt down on the floor, took a watering can filled with cleansed water and poured it all over the white and yellow lilies. Cloud wasn’t crying. He already lost all of the tears inside him, and the last thing to release is his blood.

She helped him a lot, the day he fell from that roof his eyes could not see anything but her.

He missed her. He wondered if how things would’ve worked out if she was here. He wouldn’t be here moping around, instead he would spend the whole day with her, and would seem like an eternity to never forget, if he could’ve been the hero they expected.

If it wasn’t for him, he would’ve been the hero he should’ve expected to save her, and he wouldn’t end up miserable for life. If only he wasn’t so stupid and that shallow, he could’ve given his blood than hers. And he failed to do so. All he could ever do is to bury himself in his desperation. Shut his own world to Tifa, Marlene, Denzel, and anyone else. Far more badly, he was talking to himself. It seemed thinking about her and the days they shared were the only memorabilia she left. And this wide range of flowers. He took care of them as if they were treasured. Flowers are beautiful, but it is fragile. Just like Aerith.

He picked out a flower and twirled it around. He stared at it. Beautiful, but fragile. He laid his head hanging down, with the flower grasped around his hand. He was gripping it, til he realized, the stalk was crumpled, and a white petal fell out. He looked at it, laughed mentally. On my grasp huh?

He remembered the day she would pay him off with a date, and how stupid he was to be so obvious. It was also the day she changed his world. How the two of them were running off from the Turks, and eventually ending their adventure rescuing Tifa from Don Corneo’s Mansion, hands tangled and how he felt that it was so right. The way her hands clasped on his, fingers entwined, as her silver bangles tinkle with rhythm. And at the same time in the moment of danger, she was laughing as if nothing’s happening.

He remembered the day she told him about her ex-boyfriend Zack, who happens to be his best friend. She was sad and it felt like she was lonely. He swore he was jealous about him. He felt like everything he had used to be Zack’s. He envied him like no other. He even doubted himself, did Aerith liked him without the Zack in him? He would’ve known if he was smart enough. If she lived, would things work out the way he wanted to? He never knew.

He remembered their little talk on Cosmo Canyon, sitting beside each other and watching the flame flicker. The first time he heard Aerith’s voice filled with so much sadness and melancholy. He attempted to comfort him, but it actually gave more of him away whilst she just stared at him, and returned to her depression.

“But I’m-we’re here for you, right?”

The time they had their first date at the Golden Saucer, on how he felt so embarrassed he made a mess of himself for spilling a bit of table salt, and she just laughed, telling him, “Its okay, people makes mistakes! No one’s perfect!”, then on the gondola, two of them alone facing each other. His hands were sweating for sure. He didn’t know what to do back then. But she made all as if she already knew what he was feeling. He just watched her. She was quiet at first; sitting across him with her hands cupping her chin, slack jawed and laughed. She froze her eyes on his and smiled. She then tugs her hair as her eyes wondered around. The fireworks began, and this even made him a lot more awkward. A panorama of fireworks, hands sweating, heart pumping, he was truly in love with her.

But one memory with her haunted him. On their way to the Forgotten City, he could hear her from such a far distance. With so much constancy to see her again, he wasted no time to go after her. He journeyed his way to see her smile. And he did. Though it didn’t seem to end up with smiles. When he finally reached her, in no spare of the time Jenova-a fallen one sent by the heavens played on. He was like a puppet to draw his sword and murder the woman on front of him. A puppet in strings, he attempted to cut them off. And for the sake of Aerith, he struggled. Whilst her eyes were closed, fingers entwined together and she was just right in front of him, kneeling at the altar. All he could do was to watch, his heart ached more. And in such haste, a dark angel from nowhere came leaping above with a six foot sword that pierced her skin, defense was paper thin. She neither cried nor moaned in pain. Instead, her ocean waved eyes met his, a weary smile she wore and gave. Right before her body crashed the rocky ground, he caught her. Never has he cried before in such a long time, but he just can’t stop the tears as it collided on her skin. Blood was spilt, and none were happy apart from Sephiroth. He did nothing but to stand and watch, until you realize her soul has been taken away.

Tifa, Yuffie, Barret and the rest never saw him break down before. But seeing him in tears became wounding. They heard his heart shattering and wounding, it hurt him more to see her smile at the end. No one felt more pain than he just did. And then, everything he was fighting for seems to worth naught. With her loss, he cared less for the Planet, and oh how he wanted to kill Sephiroth and perish him to hell. But before he could do all those things, he only embraced her lifeless body close to his. Never to hear her sweet voice, never to see her charming eyes, to feel her the soft touch of her hands, never again to scent the April blossoms on her.

The last moment he ever saw her face was when he rested her down on the Lake. The water seemed to take her so easily, by the time she was bathed underwater, she was finally gone, and every essence was gone.

Then he remembered what he liked on her most, her voice, the non-humorous joke she laughs, the tune she whistles, the song she sings, the name “Cloud” she speaks. Now never he will.

He wondered if how things would’ve worked out if she was here. He wouldn’t be here moping around, instead he would spend the whole day with her, and would seem like an eternity to never forget, if he could’ve been the hero he should’ve been.

Niika™