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Cloud was getting tired of using the Buster Sword.No matter how much he wanted one as a kid, using it never felt right in his palm. For all the praise he had received in the military about his swordplay (miles ahead of his marksmanship), using it was an exercise in shitty misery. Clumsy and awkward, he had relied on brute strength instead of actual talent.As a former SOLDIER, it made no sense. How embarrassing.But all that could be done was to ignore the discomfort and push forward.Even though they were nearing the sea, it was still too damn hot; Barret had ranted about how this was due to the death of the natural grass layers thanks to Shinra's reactors, something about how the soil couldn't absorb the summer's heat. Some of the finer details flew over his head, but Cloud knew enough to see that Midgar's wasteland seemed to encroach beyond the city limits and into the rest of the Planet, shriveling everything into a dry husk.A long trail of sweat trickled down his back. Maybe it had something to do with Nibelheim being piled under snow eleven months out of a year, but Cloud hated hot weather. Shit seemed so inescapable––no, it was.Like people were.Aerith jogged up beside him, wiping her brow. She tried to keep up with his pace, but she couldn't help but lollygag, always just as she was about to say something; her eyes wandered, distracted by a clump of weeds or rock. It was pretty cute, even if he didn't always get her fascination. Endearing, almost.And then he remembered how new all this stuff was. How she never had a chance to see it at all, outside of the seemingly little Shinra served her. Whatever “freedom” or other shit they gave her seemed like scraps.Putting it into words was hard, but some part of him felt like he could get it, though.She wanted conversation though, he knew that much––and knew it wasn't a strength of his. Ever since that chance second meeting in her church, wandering through the rooftops, there was this nagging voice that asked why she bothered. Why she even cared, when he went out of his way to act otherwise."Phew, and I thought it got hot in Midgar! The plate sucked, but it'd be nice to have a giant umbrella on a day like this!" Aerith panted, fanning herself. She had taken off her jacket, slung it over her shoulder. One of the thin straps of her shoulders had slid off.It was… an interesting look.Catching his eye, Aerith smirked at him, and his ears burned hot, hotter than the sun.Caught.He was about to mumble something, anything, but Aerith came to the rescue by nudging at the Buster sword. "Need some help carrying that? Lugging that around must get heavy."He waved her off. "'S not a big deal," and it was true. As the weapon of choice when he was a SOLDIER, you were trained to use it with ease and grace, how to care for it, how to carry it. Like a machine, almost. Half the procedures were dedicated to gaining the strength for it, probably. He smirked back, feeling mischievous. "The magnet helps. You probably already know about that, though.”As much as he hated to admit it, imagining Aerith with her ex-boyfriend made a tiny part of him burn with something dangerously close to jealousy, so he didn’t want to talk much more about it than the few times they already did. His remark surprised her though, judging by how her eyes widened.“I guess I do! And I also know that you’re probably the type who waited a long time for his own, huh?”“I guess I was.”They both sensed that this wasn’t the time and place, so Aerith walked alongside him, chattering and asking about the “weird bug” she found earlier––after dinner, when they sat off by themselves (it was becoming a pattern) and Aerith wheedled out more details.At least it cooled off at night.He wiped off any lingering monster guts from the day’s run-ins off Buster Sword’s blade. Looking down at it, he said, “I probably waited too long for it. It wasn’t…” he trailed off.It wasn’t a lot of things.At some point the sword must have been sharp, but that felt so long ago that it was hard to remember when it wasn't dull. Dented and nicked and scratched beyond repair seemed like its default state. Rust corroded around the materia slots, and despite Cloud trying everything, nothing could fully remove it.But it's not like it was built for beauty, or long-term use. While in the military he had learned that, like everything else Shinra made, the weapon was half-assed. Brutal and stark in design, Buster Swords were produced on a mass scale, the weapon of choice for SOLDIER until Cloud abandoned the corporation, when at some point they changed the model."I bought all into that crap when I was a kid," he admitted. It had meant something to him, long ago. Buster Swords were emblazoned on all the propaganda taped on his bedroom walls, on newsreels of recruitment campaigns. Another way to get little boys to sell themselves to Shinra's endless military machine, and Cloud had eaten that shit up for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He chuckled, and more than anything else, he sounded bitter. More bitter than he’d want Aerith to hear.He imagined the factory that made them, some sort of contraption that punched them out on a conveyor belt. Punched out with complete efficiency. Chunks of metal chewed up, punched and spat out. Just the same thing out of a million. Just like its infantry. Somewhere, there was a landfill stuffed to the fucking brim with half-broken Buster Swords. They were that easily replaceable."Pretty stupid kid, I guess."Aerith listened, patiently. And when she was sure he was done, she hesitated first, and then spoke."No more stupid than any other kid. You didn't know better." Aerith touched his shoulder, which he stiffened under. She had a habit of locking arms with others, holding hands and touching whenever she could. And every time, Cloud felt a surge of electricity conduct between them. “I hate it too, but that’s what Shinra does.”She, of all people, would know. Another thing he could relate to. The thing that tied them here all together.He had thought he didn’t care about all that, but…“Guess so, yeah.” He shifted, suddenly uncomfortable, but he didn’t pull away. He didn’t want to, he wouldn’t. He could feel her stare piercing into him, and suddenly, it was too much, which he resented. He turned away, mumbling. “And, uh… thanks.”Weird––something about this stuff ached. Somewhere around his heart. And not because of Aerith––well, yes, Aerith, but not. Why was that?God, he was starting to sound like Barret. But the guy was right about some things. Cloud could admit that much.Patting his shoulder again, Aerith got up, stretched, brushed off her skirt. To go help with something, or to wander, whatever she wanted. Cloud watched her walk away, thinking.Cloud didn't hesitate to buy the Mythrill saber that was on sale in Kalm. He knew he would in only one practice swing. Sharp enough to cut through air, it was lightweight and easy and comfortable. Way more than the Buster Sword was, or ever had been.And it was stronger, too.Not long out of town, at a nearby lake at the edge of Midgar's wastelands, at the edge of how far the city seemed to reach, Cloud tossed the old sword into the water.A tiny voice felt guilty about letting it go. Just abandoning it, all alone. On one hand it was a piece of junk, but it had meant something at some point, something important. But… what was once important meant nothing now. And he couldn't deny how much lighter the Mythrill saber felt on his back.Everyone watched as he joined up with them, an unreadable look playing at Aerith's lips and eyes."Huh, would you look at that." Wonder colored Aerith's words. He had surprised her, and to be honest, surprising her for a change was nice. She kept him on his toes easily enough. Might as well pay it back."Not the super nostalgic type, are you?" She was teasing him, but it made him blush anyway. It's not something he had given much thought before, but...no, he wasn't. Not about this. What was there to be nostalgic about?Shrugging, Cloud said, "It's just another old thing from Shinra that I don't need anymore.""Yeah… or anything else from them. For either of us.”For all of them.