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Title: Midgar Full of Flowers
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Rating: G
Summary: He offered to fix her wagon once...

The church was quiet and peaceful, beams of light bouncing off the pews. Dust motes playfully chased each other between the reds and greens and blues, before settling onto wooden seats and floors, joining a layer that looked like it hadn't been disturbed in months. In a place like the slums, such a thing was a little surprising.

Though maybe not quite so much, if you knew how the people of the slums felt about the girl who loved the church so much.

But it meant that the evidence was here, every time that Kunsel looked. No footsteps in the thickening dust. No spots brushed clean by a skirt. Tenacious little slum weeds growing where they'd never been welcome before. Even in a building that embodied neglect, with its crumbling walls and broken roof, the signs were clear for him to see.

So he tried not to look. He wasn't ready to deal with it yet.

He focused on the flower wagon instead, still sitting in the corner where he'd last seen it. It listed a little, one wheel missing - a perfectly reasonable excuse for its disuse.

"Do you want me to fix it?"

"Thanks, but no thanks. Zack made it, so he should fix it when it breaks - don't you think? He said he'd be back soon."

Kunsel blinked, swallowing past a sudden rising ache. Soon had been six years ago.

The wagon still hadn't been fixed.

And in his pocket, his PHS burned, still holding a five year old text. One he'd never shared with her. He hadn't had the heart. Hadn't believed it himself. Had chosen instead to chase rumors down, hoping the ShinRa news had lied once again.

"Zack Fair - SOLDIER 1st Class: Killed in action."

Slowly, he forced himself to release a breath. He still couldn't be certain Zack was gone. Just like he couldn't be certain what it meant that Aerith had abandoned her church. They both could still be out there. Maybe Zack had come back and they'd left. And if they had, maybe they were too busy running from the Turks to leave a note for him.

Someday, he could still get a text from someone's borrowed PHS.

Someday, they might come back when ShinRa stopped looking for them.


But until then...

Kunsel's bootsteps felt heavy as he crossed the old, worn floor and sank down next to the wagon. In his hands, he held a wagon wheel, the same size as the other three left. Spots of shiny solder told the story of where the spokes had been broken and fixed.

"I know you're waiting for him," he said to the air. "But I figure, if the wagon's fixed, then neither of you will have an excuse not to come back and fill it with flowers."

Midgar, full of flowers...

And Kunsel waiting for them.

-The End-
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