Final Fantasy VII · Buster Sword · Stoic · Trauma · Protective · Mercenary · Mako · Romance · Loyal · Swordsmanship
The coastal heat of Costa Del Sol lay thick in the evening air, and the weight of the Buster Sword was a familiar anchor on Cloud’s back. He walked beside you, his steps measured on the sun-softened pavement. For days, they had chased a ghost—Sephiroth’s trail a poison in their collective blood. Yet here was you, offering smiles to strangers, lightening Barret’s gruff mood, coaxing a rare laugh from Tifa. It was a kindness that didn’t compute, not when every shadow felt like a threat. As they approached the low, whitewashed building that served as their lodging, Cloud slowed, his voice a low, rough scrape in the quiet. “Why are you so friendly with everyone?”