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If he stared hard enough, he could make out Aerith’s face in the water. If he squinted hard enough, he could see her look of concern.
Cloud have to have been imagining it, right? Aerith was gone. She sacrificed her life for the greater good.
Was it for the greater good, though? Yes, Sephiroth couldn’t torment them or anyone anymore. He and his friends ultimately saved the Planet from Meteor. But, if Cloud really thought about the grand scheme of things, it felt like everything was falling to its death. Geostigma was taking the lives of many innocent people; as well as many people being left aimlessly, with no purpose, after the last few years. Had Aerith really sacrificed herself for the greater good? Was he just being selfish for thinking she didn’t?
He missed her so much.
Cloud felt like he was drowning; drowning in the same water of the Forgotten City he had laid Aerith in to rest. Maybe, just maybe, a part of him that kept him fundamentally alive went down with her. He was just existing at this point, in an empty shell of a body that lived off of delusions of its own past. A cruel past twisted so much into a fantasy illusion of who he wanted to be.
Cloud sat in the church, on his knees, staring at the water. Yet he couldn’t see his own reflection - the only person that stared back at him was the vague face of her. She looked back up at him, a sad smile dawning on her face. She looked sad; looked like she wanted to reach out.
His arm erupted in pain underneath his sleeve; memories of Sephiroth sprouted across his vision in sporadic bursts. A hot, intense flash of paralyzing fear shot itself into his brain as he grabbed his offending arm. He could feel the warm, thick, black liquid oozing its way out of his sleeve and onto his gloved fingers, soaking them.
A pain so intense could never prove Aerith’s death to be for “the greater good”. Why did she have to return to the Lifestream so soon when it wasn’t even worth it? For her life to be cut so short despite her being the sweetest person Cloud had ever known, the most deserving of living longer; it was unfair. It was all so unfair.
Cloud sucked in short, panicked breaths as black spotted his vision. He was going to pass out, he felt it. It was fine, he practically lived in the church anyways. No one would notice his absense if he’d already pushed them all away.
He blacked out.
::
He woke to moonlight lazily drifting across the bed he was on. Eventually taking in his surroundings, Cloud sat up with a start. He was in Tifa’s home; their home. Tifa, however, was nowhere to be seen.
Slowly shifting out of bed, he didn’t care to stick around long enough to find out how he ended up there and have Tifa begin to question him. Grabbing his Fusion Sword, Cloud quietly made his way downstairs and out the door. Thankfully, Fenrir was perched outside.
He sat on Fenrir, gently running his hand across the top. It felt comforting to sit on his bike, the very bike he worked on so heavily. Putting his Fusion Sword into the bike, he roared it to life and drove off. He knew exactly where to go when he didn’t know what to do.
The drive was long, but worth all the while. The scenery surrounding him with moonlight and silence engulfed him in serenity as he made his way to the outskirts of Midgar. Finally reaching his destination, Cloud rested Fenrir and slowly got off the bike. The Buster Sword in the ground, rusty and dull, seemed to greet him with comfort and familiarity like it always had.
“This is a symbol of my dreams and honor. That’s right, I’d almost forgotten.”
A sob violently erupted from his throat, catching him off guard. His chest felt like it was being crushed. He missed Zack. He missed him so much. His comforting presence, his stupid laugh, the squats he’d always do; he missed every part of that man.
He wanted to be forgiven for his death. He wanted to be forgiven for Aerith’s death, as well. But did Cloud even deserve it? Did he deserve forgiveness if he was the very reason why they died in the first place, why Sephiroth had even bothered targeting them or tormenting the planet. It was all his fault, wasn’t it? Down to the core, his weakness is what began the downward spiral of everyone’s demise. His weakness led to the burning of Nibelheim, the death of his mother, Tifa’s pain, Sephiroth’s madness, the experimentation of Zack and he, which ultimately led to Sephiroth puppeteering him into nothing but a useless clone.
Cloud fell to his knees in front of the makeshift grave, clutching chunks of hair in his hands. He wanted it all to stop. Hadn’t everyone been through enough? Why did Zack and Aerith have to die? Why did Denzel have to get Geostigma? Why did any of this have to happen in the first place?
Cloud wondered why the least deserving had to suffer the most. It seemed he was the only one who truly got what he deserved; hence why he refused to tell anybody about his own Geostigma. Somewhere, in his twisted mind, he knew he was only getting what was coming to him. The final blow to drive into his skull how he caused all the torment the people aforementioned had to go through. Just for him.
“But, you weren’t the one who caused all of it, were you? It was just what fate had to be.”
Cloud startled and opened his eyes, finding himself In an empty white space. Looking down were flowers of reunion - the same in Aerith’s church.
Aerith stood in front of him, hands behind her back. She was smiling, but there was a sort of sadness in her eyes.
“You didn’t kill me or Zack. You didn’t want us to leave.”
He slowly looked up, untangling his hands from his hair. Searching Aerith’s face for anything; for answers.
“I did cause it all though, didn’t I? It was my weakness and inability to save either of you that caused you to die. It was because I was just a puppet of Sephiroth.”
Aerith sighed and tilted her head and she continued to gaze at him, a sort of reservation in her eyes. “You didn’t choose to be controlled by Sephiroth, did you, Cloud. You didn’t choose any of it. You never chose the unfair hand fate dealt you. But that doesn’t mean we hate you for it. I never once thought you killed me.”
Cloud stared at her in stunned silence. “I-“ I want to be forgiven by you. By both of you. I just want to-
“Cloud, I’m afraid you’ll have to find whatever answer you need in yourself. Me telling you anything won’t solve a thing. I never blamed you for anything.”
Cloud blinked, and everything went back to Zack’s grave. The moonlight continued to shine on the tan desert stretching for miles, covering everything in a blanket of blueish tint.
He didn’t know how to find the answer in himself; he didn’t even know what the answer was for. He felt so lost.
Rising to a stand, he perched himself on Fenrir and started it up, looking at the Buster Sword one last time before taking off into the seemingly endless stretch of the desert. He began his journey back to the Sector 5 church, hoping to have even a second more of time with Aerith again; for a glance at Zack’s face, smiling back at him. He so badly wanted to have just one more moment with both of them, before he turned into the empty shell of a person he became.
Cloud eventually made it back to the church, only to stare at the reflections in the water again. Only this time, nothing stared back at him except for his own reflection.