Cloud Strife is a man of practicality: science and deduction, numbers and figures. Unless he sees it with his own eyes, he refuses to believe it.

$Well$... He had been telling himself that, reminding himself that he used to be so. Until recently...

Cloud ignored the familiar figure in front of him that only he could acknowledge. He looked ahead, walking with his usually languid manner.

"Cloud! Cloud!" A vein popped out over his forehead. "Come on, Cloud! You can't pretend that you don't see me out of the blue." Yes, he could. Cloud continued on, slightly hurrying his pace.

However, that had been a grave mistake. His subtle reaction had caught its attention. "Oh, yes, you did see me!" Cloud halted, rolling his eyes exasperatedly. He turned around sharply before the $ghost$—this freaking ghost!—could just pass through his body for no reason. "Even if I see you, it makes no difference," Cloud said flatly. "I'm not here to offer you any spiritual charity." To be fair, Cloud was a very busy mercenary; he had better things to do than listen to what this wandering soul had to say. He momentarily thought of the flower girl. Perhaps she could help this ghost.

But then again, Aerith is Aerith; she would drag Cloud into it anyway, which defeated the purpose of tossing this bothersome matter to her. "Cloud, you should at least keep your promise!" the ghost said. What audacity, Cloud thought, with an arched eyebrow. "I don't recall making any promises to a random ghost," he sighed wearily. "You did; you're just conveniently forgetting it now!" Cloud was getting confused; if the ghost wanted to baffle him, it was doing a good job. "I'm sorry for your death," Cloud said, though he didn't sound sorry. Of course, he didn't, because he didn't really try to. "But I ain't got time for you."

This time, the ghost passed through Cloud with a $woosh$! Goddess, Cloud hated that feeling! It felt as if his own soul were moving from within.

"But you did, when you fell into the $Lifestream$, Cloud!" That caught Cloud's attention.