Reunited

"Hello? You might not be doing so well after all," the voice was sweet and soothing and familiar, somehow. That was Cloud's instant sensation, followed by his surroundings being sweet smelling and soft, rare commodities in the slums. He opened his eyes. He was in a run-down church, laying in a bed of white flowers. The flower seller, her lithe physique hidden in a conservative white dress and red jacket, loomed over him with large, expressive green eyes.

"You're that flower seller," Cloud said, groaning.

"Better than the slum drunk. You can call me Aerith. This fell out after you landed in my flower bed," she said, handing him his Protect materia.

"Sorry about the flowers," he said.

"Maybe you can make it up to me. Make sure I get home safe," Aerith suggested. It made since. Pretty girl in the slums ...

"Sure, I got time," Cloud said coolly. The church doors opened. Aerith giggled lightly.

"It won't be easy."