The Future They Dreamed Of

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Word Count:1500

Rating:G

Summary: Set before Corel burned down, Barret and Dyne talk about the future and how Mako would affect their lives.

Note: A piece I wrote for @barretzine! I explored how Barret’s life had been before his town burned to ash.

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

That afternoon, the sky bled red. Barret hoisted his bag over his shoulder while he waited for Dyne outside the miners’ break room. Faint construction sounds reached his ear. On the other side of the mountain, the Shinra Company was building a Mako Reactor. Gone was the age of coal; Mako would lead them to the new world.

“Heard it’ll be finished soon.”

Dyne stepped out with his bag slung over one shoulder. His narrowed eyes gazed past the cliffs standing between their coal mine and the construction site. Ever since Shinra came and proposed the idea, he’d never been too keen on it, saying that coal had sustained their livelihood since their fathers’ days, it was unnatural to have it any other way.

With the townspeople on board with this new energy source, Dyne hadn’t voiced his objections since. However, Barret would catch glimpses of it underneath the cracks of his otherwise calm demeanor. Like how it showed again now in the hard lines of his gaze and his furrowing brows. But Dyne only shrugged, then wordlessly treaded down the mountainside path back toward the town. Barret quickly joined his side.

“Time’s changed, Dyne. No one uses coal anymore. Say we mine them, what then? You know as well as everybody else the town’s been struggling because of that.”

Dyne offered nothing but quiet nods. It was like a broken record—this discussion. Barret had lost count how many times they’d had it in the past year and a half. He’d offer all kinds of arguments, but nothing he said could deter Dyne from his belief.

Above the western peaks, the last of the sun’s golden streaks drew his attention. They fought against the approaching dusk, shining over his little town cradled in the valley below. He spotted his humble home, off to the side near the edge of the town, with smoke rising from the chimney as his wife cooked dinner for the night.

Barret swallowed his sigh. “With Mako, everything would be better. We’d have profitable jobs. The town’s gonna prosper. Our livelihood’d be secured.” And Myrna, he thought. Maybe he could finally earn enough to get the medicine his wife needed.

Beside him, Dyne broke into a rueful smile.

“Well, if that’s not convincing enough for you, just imagine what the future would look like. Our little town, all sparkly and bright like they say Midgar is. Don’t you want little Marlene to see that?”

“You sound like those Shinra people.”

The soft, amused scoff took him by surprise, though in hindsight, Barret probably should have expected it. He stared at his friend, who looked straight ahead with an unflinching gaze. The chuckle came unbidden.

“And is that wrong? Everyone’s using it nowadays.”

Dyne’s eye gave a little twitch, his jaws clenching ever so slightly. “Even if they do, doesn’t mean we gotta go with the flow.”

“What do you mean?”

“I hate that we’re just going to abandon the coal our fathers’ve protected for so long, yes, but… They say sucking out Mako would wreck the ecosystem. That it’d turn the Planet barren and lifeless.” Again, that pursing of his lips. Dyne paused on his steps and stared at the town below. Brown rooftops jutted out of what greeneries the quicksand desert offered. A hard glint flashed across his eyes. “I’d rather people say I’m stuck in the old days than turn my mountain and home into a wasteland.”

It was a quiet admission—the first Dyne had ever voiced that argument. It left Barret at a loss for words. Of course. He’d never thought about that. Or maybe he had, somewhere at the back of his mind. He’d known. All the townspeople had known. But still, they’d chosen to have the reactor if it meant having an easier life. Dyne dropped his gaze, then, slipping one hand inside his trouser pocket, moved away.

Barret watched as Dyne’s back grew ever smaller, wondering if there really was nothing he could do to ease his friend’s worries, to make him see that having the reactor would benefit them more than it’d cost them. Just as the thought entered his mind, an unfamiliar aroma tickled his nose. Purple flowers bloomed on the bushes lining their path, the petals long and thin, spreading out like stars. Barret didn’t realize he’d been staring until he felt a tap on his shoulder. Dyne had returned to his side. His eyes went wide at the sight of the flowers.

“You don’t see these here very often.” Melancholy etched his voice. He reached for a flower, plucking it by its stem. “Wonder how many would be left once the reactor starts pumping up Mako.” Another sorrow-leaden murmur. But before Barret could say anything, Dyne had already shaken himself, adjusting his bag over his shoulder as he carefully tied one end of the flower’s long stem to just beneath the petal.

“What are you doing?”

“Thought I’d make a ring for Marlene.”

A ring? The flower had indeed transformed into a crooked ring that would still be too big for Eleanor. Barret snorted.

“Too big, huh?” One corner of Dyne’s lips curled into a smirk. “What about a crown?”

“Too small.”

Dyne held the flower ring in front of him, head tilted to the side in contemplation. The melancholic tinge remained in the curve of his growing smile as he came to a decision.

“A bracelet then!” He threw a sideways glance at Barret’s towering form. “Marlene would love it, wouldn’t she?”

It had been a while since Barret saw the baby girl. With his job and helping at the construction, he hadn’t had much free time to visit Dyne’s home. But Barret tried to imagine the flower bracelet around little Marlene’s wrist, the way it would settle over her baby-soft skin. He could just see the laughter on her face as her father bent down and slipped the bracelet around her hand. He told Dyne just that, and Dyne beamed.

“Speaking of Marlene,” Dyne went on, slipping the flower ring inside his pocket and continuing on their way. “Eleanor’s inviting you all to dinner this weekend.”

Barret blinked. “What’s the occasion?”

“It’s been a while since the four of us got together, and…” A little blush colored his cheeks. “We thought you could help us think of how to celebrate Marlene’s birthday.”

Another blink. “But that’s not until next year.”

“No harm in being prepared.”

Dyne finally broke into an ear-to-ear grin. Barret stared, awed at how a single thought of his daughter easily dispelled his friend’s worries. His laughter came then—a soft, breathy chuckle that slowly escalated into a hearty guffaw. A part of him wondered if he could ever be half the doting father Dyne was. He threw his arm over Dyne’s shoulders, the gesture shaking his friend to his core.

“We’re gonna throw the best party Corel had ever seen!”

He had no doubt about that—no doubt that the prosperity the reactor would give would allow them to hold the best party anyone had ever seen. His only hope was that, in time, Dyne could see that too.

***

Asters. That was what they were called. The purple flowers with petals spreading out like stars. The florist said so.

“Some people say they symbolize gentleness,” she’d said. “Others say elegance. But there’s also another meaning: afterthought.”

Who would’ve thought the flowers they’d found that day would be so fitting? Barret stood in front of a mound, a bouquet of the same purple flowers now held in his grasp. Green dotted the brown and black earth. The people of Corel had given his friend the proper burial he’d deserved.

“It’s your father, Marlene,” he said.

Marlene stood beside him, the brown in her eyes solemn as she gazed at her biological father’s grave. Ten years had passed since the town burned down.

Can you see her? Barret wanted to ask. Your baby girl’s here. Sorry it took so long to bring her.

Marlene squeezed his fingers, then stepped forward, bending down at the knees before placing her own bouquet atop the mound. He’d always wondered how she would take knowing that she had another father, and a mother, whom she’d never met. Marlene had taken it well. Though, knowing all the things she’d gone through, it shouldn’t have been a surprise. The girl had only smiled and said she’d known.

“We don’t exactly look alike,” she’d said. “But that’s alright. You’ll always be my daddy.”

Now she looked over her shoulder, a single tear rolling down her face. Marlene held out a hand in silent invitation. Around her wrist lay the bracelet of purple flowers Barret never got to see before. The weekend they’d promised to have dinner on never came.

Barret embraced the lump forming at the back of his throat, his lips parting into the gentlest smile. He joined his daughter at the mound and set the bouquet down.

What do you think, Dyne? You think I did a good job?

~ END ~

To Act the Hero

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Word Count:1199

Rating:G

Summary: After two years, Cloud is finally back in Nibelheim, but failing the SOLDIER exam has him hide his identity from the townspeople. As he leaves his mother’s home, the water tower stands imposing in front of him, reminding him or a promise he once made—a promise he now wonders how he could keep.

Note: A piece I wrote for @theclotizine! I also wrote a prequel of sort for this fic titled As Long As You’re Safe that explores how Zack accompanies Cloud to visit his mother. You can find it here.

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

The stars hung low that night, a myriad of white spreading as far as the eye could see, blinking against the blue-black vastness. Cloud stepped out of his house and drew a lungful of the cool evening air: pine, mixed with a distant hint of rain, rolled down the mountain. He was home.

“Thanks for having me, Mrs. Strife.”

Zack’s voice drifted out from inside. Cloud had invited his friend over to try his mother’s cooking. It was an excuse; Zack probably knew. His mother had sent him off with such zeal that when Cloud failed his SOLDIER exam, he hadn’t had the courage to put pen on paper and inform his mother of the results. Letting her think he’d made it big in Midgar had sounded like the better option. A misconception on his part—one he’d realized after seeing the panic in his mother’s sky-blue eyes when Zack knocked on her door and mentioned Cloud’s name.

Their voices grew louder as Zack stepped over the threshold and joined his side. Cloud’s mother followed closely behind, chuckling and asking Zack to come visit again. Zack promised that he would. He gave her a quick bow, then nudged Cloud on his shoulder. Take your time, his eyes seemed to speak. Cloud didn’t get the chance to respond before his friend crossed the village toward the inn.

“Great friend you found there,” his mother commented once Zack was out of earshot.

Cloud fastened his helmet over his head and turned around to face her. Claudia Strife had been all smiles and laughter throughout dinner, talking about everything and anything with an overabundance of joy that had felt almost palpable. Even Zack had been swept up in her enthusiasm. Yet now, a quiet melancholy overshadowed that elation, reminding Cloud of how she’d embraced him tight and whispered, it’s been two years.

“Have you met everyone else?” she asked. “What about Tifa? I think she was asking about you.”

His fingers twitched at the question. No one would want to see him—a nobody kid like him with no friends. Just one of the boys who’d gone looking for a job and never came back. Not like Tifa. Everyone adored Tifa. While he was floundering in Midgar, she’d learned martial arts and become the village’s best guide. Lovely, friendly, hardworking—even his company had appreciated her efforts for keeping them safe throughout their journey to the reactor. Tifa wouldn’t want to see him.

A gentle squeeze to his shoulder brought his eyes to his mother. His heart clenched at her tender smile. She’ll understand, she seemed to say. A lump formed at the back of Cloud’s throat.

He waved goodbye and headed back to the inn. But when the door clicked shut and with his mother out of sight, his purposeful stride gradually ground to a halt. The water tower stood imposing in front of him, with its proud wooden beams and the ladder leading to the top. He’d sat there before on a cool night like tonight, legs swinging down from the ledge, as he’d waited for the girl with ebony hair and ruby eyes to appear.

When we’re older, and you’re a famous SOLDIER… if I’m ever trapped or in trouble… promise you’ll come and save me.

Back when the dream of becoming a SOLDIER was still within reach. Back when he had easily agreed to a lofty promise he now wondered how he could keep.

Cloud pursed his lips to a thin line. He dropped his gaze, then made to move, but as he did, a shuffling of feet drew his attention to the other side of the water tower. Cloud spotted a shadow leaning against the beams—a shadow he recognized so well. Tifa stood with her back to him, her round-brimmed hat hung from her neck down her back, kicking her boot against the dirt as she gazed at the star-strewn sky.

Cloud froze. The last time he saw her had been at the reactor, barring her way as she’d tried to enter. She’d huffed and pouted with hands on her hips, and Cloud had wanted to laugh at the familiar sight. But he’d stood his ground, then stood in front of her as hordes of monsters came their way. He’d meant to protect her, to act the hero, but in a twist that had only deepened his sense of failure, she had ended up protecting him.

Tifa pushed herself off the beams, jerking Cloud to attention. He should have moved—looked away before Tifa noticed him—but just as she rounded the tower and stepped out of its shadow, her eyes found his. Time slowed to a passing crawl. One moment, two… Under the moonlight, her ruby eyes widened, a small, relieved smile blossoming on her face.

“Figured it was you.” Tifa was suddenly in front of him.

Cloud blinked, startled. He took an involuntary step back.

“I was coming back from the inn and you weren’t there. Have you rested? Are you well now?”

Cloud should say something, anything, but if he spoke—

“Thanks.” Her smile grew, concern mingling with gratitude and a hint of shyness. “For protecting me.”

I’m sensing some issues here. Zack had told him that morning, after Cloud had woken up from his rest and his friend had asked about Tifa. Shouldn’t you do something?

He should, but what could he do? Cloud wasn’t the hero he had promised her he would be.

Tifa fidgeted on her feet, hands behind her back. A question seemed to brim behind her lips as she lifted a half-expectant gaze at Cloud. But when she opened her mouth, no voice came out.

“Nothing,” she said after a while, her lips parting into a weak crooked smile. She gave a little shake of her head, biting her lower lip as she cast her eyes down. Her shoulders shuddered under a faint scoff. “Zack doesn’t know him,” she added, her voice barely above a whisper. “You probably don’t either.”

Cloud drew his brows in confusion, but before he could ask what she meant, a door opened behind them. The unmistakable voice of Brian Lockhart rang out, calling for Tifa. She had to go.

“Well, glad to know you’re alright.” She turned to leave.

Wait—

“Nice talking with you.” Even though she was the one who had done all the talking.

Stop!

Her hat swayed like a pendulum behind her back. Farther and farther away she moved, his chance slipping out of his grasp. But before she disappeared—

“Hey!” He hoped his helmet masked his voice. Tifa looked back. Cloud gulped past the growing lump in his throat. “Thanks for helping me get down the mountain.”

The silence stretched for one second longer, then there it was—the smile that always made his heart skip a beat. Bright and warm, like the ones he would see when they were kids and their eyes made contact. Tifa gave a quick wave, then disappeared behind her door.

Cloud stood there, staring at the two-story building beside his house. It looked as enormous as he remembered it.

Shouldn’t you do something?

Cloud blinked back at the stars, exhaling a quiet sigh into the night. Easier said than done.

~ END ~