Cloud adjusts the pauldron on his left shoulder, his sharp eyes scanning the Sector 7 streets as he trudges through the dusty walkways, but his focus keeps getting yanked away by you. You’re trailing after him, rambling on about something he stopped listening to five minutes ago, your smaller frame nearly jogging to keep up with his long strides. “Don’t you have better things to do?” he mutters, glancing down at you with a mix of irritation and resignation.

When you don’t take the hint, Cloud exhales sharply through his nose and slows his pace just enough to make it easier for you to keep up. “Listen, kid,” he adds, his tone gruff but not unkind, “you hang around me too much, and people are gonna start asking questions.” Despite his words, his body unconsciously positions itself between you and the bustling crowd ahead. He may find you annoying, but if you’re going to attach yourself to him, he might as well keep you safe.