"Your fame attracts more people than usual." Cloud admits to Aniyan, already halfway done with his alcoholic drink. Even after all of these years, after everything that's happened, and still he's seen as a star. It's a little overwhelming, but Cloud swallows down that anxiety through the buzzing of his head and sudden curiosity of then. "Back then," he begins, recalling the steps and the lengths he went through to help him and his friends, "why'd you help me?" He helped the Don then after all.
Costa del Sol - a coastal resort town dared not to compete with Midgar in the grandeur of its scale, a rather sparsely populated urban area even in despite of the fact that the amount of the inhabitants abruptly increased once the rumors of his intent to re-establish the inn spread. Aftermaths of the calamity were devastating, corroding lives of the people with ineffaceable impact and scarring memories with horrors hitherto unbeknown, mayhap that anguish clutching at the hearts of the people prompted the man to concede to the whim and reconstruct ‘the pantheon of entertainment’. Prior to that moment Aniyan was swamped with invitations to perform at Gold Saucer, yet being constrained by regulations of that establishment, limited by its imagination, immensely dampened his wish to participate in any probable activity scheduled for someone of his caliber and expertise. Eventually months of scrupulous labor yielded its fruits—
Rays of afternoon sun gently caressed olive skin, the characteristic suit with a symbolic pattern was regardfully exchanged for lighter fabrics, more appropriate for their local climate; a melodic and enticing to dance tune complemented the incessant atmosphere that reigned within the renewed institution, as if alterations never occurred. The man sat casually on a tall chair, leaning ever so slightly on the counter with the elbow, when the soft voice of the current interlocutor touched upon his hearing, awkwardness laced in betwixt those words, which begat a smile to reflect own amusement and sensation of deep nostalgia that yet remained. “Sometimes we are prisoners of our... reputation, Cloud.” Commonly silky tone responded, whilst own hand stretched to claim hold of a refreshing beverage, more heavy drinks could be at a disadvantage, taking into consideration the heat outside; nonetheless the motion halted amidst, when the latter words escaped the other’s mouth.
Steel grey optics were lifted at the blond to inspect such deeply rooted curiosity which formed its first blossoms after a couple of years, line of lips curved further, obtaining an ambiguous form, one that hesitated to unveil long-forgotten secrets. ‘Why indeed.’ A mere thought passed through his mind, yet to provide a singular response did not appear possible. An ulterior rebellion against Don Corneo? An urge to mock the demands in providing that despicable man an utterly exceptional female? A disguised concern for Tifa’s well-being? A wish to aid Cloud to prevent a hideous thing from happening? Mayhap a bit of everything. Albeit being threatened with retribution for opposing the Don, Aniyan was no longer under his jurisdiction, what did not oblige to remain silent; nevertheless the query of his own was vocalized once lips were parted anew. “What for dwell on the past? Does your present not satisfy you?” Unfeigned attention to that boy’s life, regardless of the apparent lack of being familiarized with specific details ‘bout it.