[ Ah, thinks Aerith dully, he's well aware of the mood she's in. It's disorienting, in a way, trying to mingle with people still. Months of being herself again aren't enough to shake the déjà vu the covers her like a blanket, the memories of another woman ghosting along the corners of her brain. The wires inside her skull are wound tightly at all times, overworking themselves while plucking out the falsehoods from the reality. In truth, she can't help but miss that life. A free one, where burden doesn't hold her down. ]

I heard some people talking over by the pier. [ Cloud's well aware of her idiosyncrasies, Aerith thinks. This isn't a topic change: It's lore. ] They said that people usually throw things that symbolize what they want to let go of into bonfires. The dancing, the celebrating... that's the second half of a bonfire. The freedom that comes with letting go of something.

[ She turns, falling over to his side now. With clasped hands, she watches the flames reach up to the indigo, star-mapped sky. ] I guess... I was wondering... what we were celebrating burning.