This is my first attempt at fanfiction, while my other story is stuck on writer's block for now....
The rain fell in curtains, drawing across the city’s upper level. It never reached the earth, instead, running slowly down the paths above, into the drains, to be filtered and recycled for the city.
What water that didn’t make it to the filtering system instead diverted into the rusted pipelines that lead to the city below the city.
The city that saw no sunlight.
These were the slums of Midgar. A lone figure sat in an old child’s playground, on top of a faded pink dome. The dome bared the likeness of a moogle, a creature of child’s stories and legends, its tongue protruding as a child’s slide.
The figure himself looked out of place. His boots rested lightly on the pink duri-plastic, the large treads and black leather a dark contrast to the faded slide. His knees were tucked beneath his chin, his eyes stared into nothing with their eerie glow. In his hand was a single, bright flower.
I wonder if she’s out there, in the lifestream…
He tightened his grip, unwittingly crushing the flower in his hand. If she is, at least…she’s not alone.
“Cloud?” A hand lighted on his shoulder startled him, snapping him out of his thoughts. He turned to see a woman had climbed up beside him, her long brown hair swaying in front of her face, hiding worried eyes.
Cloud said nothing, merely turning his gaze back towards the eternal smog, waiting for her to leave.
“Cloud, you can’t stay out here forever. Come out of the cold.”
“To where? Your bar was destroyed.” Cloud’s voice was cold, emotionless. Tifa winced slightly at his tone, but knew he would not notice her discomfort.
“You have a bunk in the ship. Come on, it’s not safe in these parts.”
Cloud didn’t answer, but turned his gaze onto Tifa. His face was motionless, staring, reminding Tifa painfully of a lost child. She hesitated, then rested her hand on his shoulder. “Come home, Cloud.”
“I have no home.”
Anger flared in her chest, and she stood abruptly, balancing on the uneven surface. “You know what, Cloud? We all hurt. But we don’t mope around feeling sorry for ourselves!”
She glared down at the top of his blonde head. He refused to look up. She gritted her teeth in frustration. Honestly. He can be such a baby.
“Come back to the ship when you stop being such a coward.”
With that, she leapt off the slide, and ran towards the outskirts of town, into the smog. Cloud looked after her, then down at the crumpled flower. Home is where your heart is. “I have no home.” He repeated.
*
When Tifa reached the Highwind she was still fuming. Climbing the ladder, she stormed down the deck and into the ship itself.
A girl, younger then the rest in all but experience, looked up to see Tifa climb down the ladder and storm towards the Chocobo stable. Not a good sign, she thought warily. All she does there is fume and cry.
Yuffie was enjoying herself. The ship wasn’t moving, so she wasn’t retching. She had planned to go explore Midgar, but the others wouldn’t let her. She was too young, apparently. But that didn’t matter. She was going to go anyway. They can’t stop me.
She stood slowly, glancing around furtively. Cid and Barret were fighting again, and Vincent didn’t seem to care what she did. Red was asleep, Tifa was occupied, and Cait sith was being boring as usual. That left Cloud.
Yuffie stole across to the ladder, climbing up it deftly. She made her way outside, and jumped over the rail, landing on the grass with a thud.
Her mouth fell open at the sheer size of the city before her. The upper section of Midgar was the shape of a huge disk, missing a spoke, ShinRa headquarters the center hub of the giant wheel. The shadow fell across the lower slums, but shielded it from the rain that stuck to Yuffie’s hair. She grinned in anticipation, and, holding the keycard swiped from Barret, Yuffie let herself inside the city.
*
Inside, the smog was thick. Yuffie, being used to the cool mountain air, coughed harshly, and decided to breathe as shallowly as possible. How can people live here?
She gazed around, striding confidently down the streets. They were more paths through the monstrous piles of junk then roads, and the ground underneath her knee-high lace-up boots was no more then mud. Wary citizens glared at her as she passed, unsure what to make of the young teenager.
Spotting something out of the corner of her eye, Yuffie paused and stared up. There, in a chink of the plate above, was a stream of light, settling only on this one building. The roof had long since collapsed, and the building was in need of repair, but next to the slotherly beasts beside it, this building looked almost charming. Curiosity getting the best of her, Yuffie reached out and opened the door.
Inside was a patch of multicoloured flowers, their leaves open to the sunlight that filtered through the smog into their derelict home.
Yuffie moved closer. This was the first greenery she had seen since entering the city. She knelt on the outside of the circular garden, for it showed evidence of being tended.
Who, in this depressing city, would take the time to look after a few flowers?
“What are you doing here?” Yuffie froze. She recognized the voice, or more the cold, indifferent tone. She turned.
“Cloud-.”
“Don’t answer. I don’t care.”
Yuffie frowned. This wasn’t the reaction she was expecting. Where is my lecture? She peered at him, but he was as unreadable as usual. Sighing, she turned back to the flowers. “Whose are these?”
“They’re Arieth’s.” For the first time since arriving at Midgar, Cloud’s voice was strained with emotion. Yuffie tensed, looking back at him. He was standing motionless, staring only at the softly illuminated flowers. Yuffie cleared her throat. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be.” Cloud walked to the circle of light, and drew his sword. “Just leave.”
Yuffie’s hand went to her shuriken, but he was not looking at her. His gaze was fixed permanently on something only he could see.
Yuffie stood and fled, no longer in the mood for exploring.
Cloud’s hand tightened on the hilt. "Home... is where your family is."
He did not return to the ship that night.
