Rufus and Cloud

August 19, XXXX

Today I buried my heart.

I buried it under a tombstone, inscribed simply and plainly for whatever wanderer to read as they pass by. I buried it along with my tears, my rage, and my laughter. I believe my soul is down there as well. I buried them because I'm a coward, because I don't like to face the truth. When the truth is thrown in my face, I react in horrid, real ways. I cry, I bleed, I say things I don't mean. I don't want to be like that. I don't want to make others suffer because I'm so weak.

So I buried my heart under a tombstone on a cliff overlooking the ocean.

I think . . . I think he liked the ocean. He would always smile when we were sailing between Junon and Costa Del Sol when we were little. He would always comment and say how he preferred the water to land; he loved to swim. That's why I placed that tombstone there.

In reality, there is nothing under that tombstone; only in my head does my heart lay six feet below the surface. There wasn't a body to bury. There wasn't a body for me to identify as my only brother. There wasn't a body for me to hold in my arms and cry over. There wasn't a body for me to kiss goodbye.

Reno, Elena, and Rude give me piteous looks every time I make eye contact with them, and I know they must be giving their sympathies when I'm not present. They think they know how much I lost; my father's company, my employees, my city -- all gone. . . They know it must be painful to look at those smoking ruins. . . That's why we traveled to the other side of the Planet -- to get away from all the bad memories.

But the memories remain with me. They remain because I see the water daily and think of him. They remain because I see the sky daily and think of him. They remain because I see blue eyes in the mirror and think of him. I can't stop thinking about him and agonizing over him. It's just not possible.

He was my everything.

-- Rufus Azul Shinra

The waves crashed noisily at the bottom of the cliff.

The clouds slowly moved through the endless skyway.

The sun gleamed quietly from the heavens.

The tombstone sat silently near the top of the cliff, rounded and shaped in an ordinary fashion. Amidst the short grass lay a bouquet of poppies -- his favorite flower. They lay at the base of the tombstone, right under the inscription created for anyone to read should they take the time.

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