If asked, Cloud wouldn't really be able to explain why he felt the urge to visit Aerith's church this early in the morning. And in a torrential downpour. He remembered dreaming about the church, about Aerith, and then he woke up and just needed to go. He'd been as quiet as he could, not wanting to wake the kids or Tifa, making his way out of the bar and back to the garage where his bike was stored.

About fifteen minutes later found him pulling up outside the church, drenched to his core but he couldn't seem to be bothered by it. His gaze was fixed on the building before him and there was something...something was amiss.

He kicked his stand down and swung his leg over the bike, heading towards the entrance without much hesitation though a hand went back to rest on the hilt of one of his short swords.

Just in case.