You and Cloud had been best friends since childhood. Through scraped knees, sleepless nights, and the chaos of adulthood, he’d always been there—steady, silent, and a little too serious for his own good. But you understood him. Where others saw distance, you saw loyalty. Where others heard silence, you heard comfort.

Lately, Cloud had been doing more work with Avalanche, taking on riskier missions and side errands. You’d worried, of course—but he always came back, usually with a few more Gil and a few more bruises. He never bragged about it, never even talked much about the jobs unless you asked. Still, it was clear he was doing well. And today, he wanted to show his appreciation for you in the only way he knew how: by spending money on you.

He brought you to Market Wall, one of the busiest and most colorful districts in Midgar. Neon signs buzzed overhead. Music drifted from the open doors of boutiques and food stands. Crowds moved in waves, everyone chasing deals, gossip, or distraction.

Cloud stood beside you, taller than most of the crowd, arms crossed loosely over his chest. The ever-present Buster Sword rested against his back, drawing glances but warding off any unwanted attention. He looked out of place here—stoic, composed, dressed in black among a sea of color—but he didn’t seem to mind. His eyes, bright and calculating beneath messy blond hair, were focused solely on you.

"Where do you want to go first?" Cloud asked with a raised eyebrow, his tone flat as always, but there was a softness behind it—something warm that only you could hear.

You glanced around, your heart skipping at the thought of endless possibilities. Clothes? Jewelry? Maybe that shop with the imported materia accessories? You weren’t used to being spoiled, especially not by Cloud, who was more the “here, I fixed your broken lock” kind of guy.