Work Text:
Today, it was just Cloud and Denzel visiting the church. Except there was another man already there.
Immediately something about him bugged Denzel. He didn’t really get how, but the stranger reminded him of Cloud. Even though the longer Denzel looked, the more he thought there wasn’t that much similar between them after all. He was taller than Cloud, and his hair was black and long down the back of his neck. Maybe it was his eyes. They looked like Cloud's.
Denzel barely noticed when his guardian lagged a step behind, when they got closer to the man at the back of the church. There was the pool of shining healing water where Cloud had rinsed Denzel’s geostigma away. There was the patch of resilient yellow flowers that Marlene liked to pick whenever she tagged along, growing up through the debris. And there was the old great sword, the buster sword Cloud called it, standing tall over everything.
The stone slab where it stood leaned, one end being propped higher on more rubble. The man’s knee was casually bent to follow the rise. He had his fingers stretched out toward the hilt. His smile, when he angled toward the two of them, was friendly and broad.
"Hey, there," he said.
Before they’d come closer, Denzel had seen the look on his face. A mix of feelings, like pain, fondness, pride. Denzel recognized it was the same way Cloud looked when he stared at the sword, sometimes.
But this guy had no right to touch it. It was important, and important to Cloud.
Denzel huffed angrily, and rushed over.
Seemed Cloud was jolted out of whatever had tripped him up, since Denzel heard him call out then, "Hey — Denzel!"
Denzel was already clambering up the stone, shoving both hands at the man.
"Get away!"
The man stumbled back. But Denzel knew he was faking it, even though he cried, "Whoa, there, kid! Oof! Glad to know this place’s still guarded so well—"
Even huffier, Denzel ignored the bad joke and glared. "This is a memorial to a hero — so keep your stupid hands off!"
The man’s eyes widened. He didn’t look insulted, though. Kind of the opposite. His stare fell back onto the sword, though Denzel tried to step in the way so he couldn’t even lay his eyes on it. Denzel faltered, though. The man looked really weird. Almost like he was going to cry, even though he beamed.
"That’s right," came Cloud’s quiet voice.
He’d finally reached them to help Denzel defend the sword from the stranger. So Denzel thought. Cloud looked up at the platform where they were standing. He looked at the stranger, but… like he wasn’t one at all.
"Cloud." The weirdo gave a small, informal salute with his fingers. "It’s good to see you, again."
"Yeah." Denzel was even more confused by the rasp in his guardian’s voice when he answered. "Could say the same."
Denzel finally lowered his arms from how they’d been spread wide to block off the sword. He looked between Cloud and the man. Harder, at the man.
"Who are you?"
With hands on his hips, striking a pose there in front of Denzel, he declared, "Name’s Zack Fair!" Before he passed one hand briskly under his nose, while he grinned.
He was looking at Cloud, then. Cloud was looking back at him. Denzel didn’t really get everything that passed between them in that moment. Just that it was a lot, and that… maybe this Zack was even more important to Cloud than the already really important sword.
"A hero, apparently. Though, could just go with 'a friend’… right, Cloud?"