Hey everyone! This is a long one-shot fanfic that I literally thought of on my drive home, and wrote in a few hours. It's riddled with Tifa and Cloud, but it's definitely Cloud-centric. Hope you guys like it. And the characters in Final Fantasy VII don't belong to me, they belong to Square Enix and its creators :)

Shades of Red

Cloud didn't have a favorite color. To him, color wasn't vibrant. It wasn't anything special. It was a concept that was taught in preschool in the form of ROYGBIV. It was as predictable and insignificant as Marlene's activity book where you color the leaves green because the instructions said to color all the number 2's. The kind of person he was and the hellish life he lived, didn't get to have the luxury of thinking about such mundane things.

Though if he were to have any sort of color, to have experienced it as if color were a personality, then the one that appeared to him the most in his life was red.

Red.

Candy apple red. The candy apple he received from a certain childhood friend on Hallow's Eve. He didn't know it until recently, when they reminisced over long-ago memories. He had been a ghost that year—a single mother couldn't afford anything other than a white sheet and scissors. It had been embarrassing enough not to be invited to trick-or-treat with the popular kids, but to gallivant in nothing but a raggedy bedspread had been mortifying. Still, his mom plucked him out of his room and booted him to the streets, promising him he'd have a good time. If only he had the chance to thank his mom. Stopping door to door, he had to watch as other kids got five pieces of candy while he only got one. He was about to call it quits, until he reached her door. Cloud was surprised, because there she was answering the door instead of getting treats like the rest of the kids. Tentatively, he said, "trick-or-treat." She looked at him oddly, before smiling and running inside the kitchen. A moment later, she came back out with the most mouthwatering red apple he'd ever seen drizzled with caramel. "Here you go," she said. "Happy Halloween!" Years later, as Tifa and Cloud watched Denzel and Marlene dress up in costumes, Tifa secretly smiled to Cloud, saying that the apple from many Halloween's ago was the reddest and juiciest of them all—and she gave it to him willingly, because he was Cloud. His eyes widened in surprise, asking her how he knew it was him. She laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Oh how can I not notice? Your spikes poking out of the sheet gave everything away."

Magenta crayons. Who knew something so simple could possibly be so dangerous? Well, when you were the guardian of Barrett Wallace's daughter, you were screwed. It was the day before Valentine's Day, and Marlene was panicking. Sadly, she had misplaced her magenta crayon, and she was upset that she couldn't make her special Valentine cards for her classmates. Barrett, a sucker for a tear-streaked Marlene had forced Cloud to go out into the freezing February night, insisting that his precious baby girl desperately needed the writing tool. "Why couldn't she just use the red crayon," Cloud asked like an idiot. You'd think that it was the murderous glare Barrett was giving Cloud (wasn't helping that he was tapping his gunned arm against the bar counter) that made him feel a pang of fear, but the steely look that Marlene was throwing his way was enough to make him grab his jacket and flee the scene. Forty-five minutes and three stores later, he had come back with the package, receiving praise and kisses from the little five-year-old girl. "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you Cloud! You're the best ever!" Cloud merely ruffled her hair, thinking the 35-degree weather wasn't too bad if he got to see her smile. That is, until the next day. Barging in after school, Marlene raced inside to greet Cloud and pounced happily on her papa, telling them all about her wonderful Valentine's Day. Her cards had been a smash hit, she said, and all her classmates loved her little 2x4 pieces of paper decorated with hearts and flowers. "See," Barrett chuckled, "I knew that magenta crayon was worth it if all yer classmates saw how creative ya are sweetie." But Marlene looked at him confused. "For my classmates? No they only got red hearts. The magenta one was for Billy," she gushed before she bounced off her papa and headed for her room. Silence filled the bar, and Cloud stood frozen behind the counter. Finally, Barrett turned around and faced Cloud. "You have three seconds to get out of this room before I beat yer spiky ass to the ground," he said quietly, slowly getting up. "What me? What did I—" Cloud had started. "1." "Barrett what the f—" "2."

Fire red. He could still feel the heat licking his face as he slowly stirred awake from unconsciousness. All around him, flames engulfed Nibelhiem, making the sky a bright red and shielding the usual stars that people would only see in a small, mountainous town. He raced inside his house, not caring that his hands were seared from the fire as he pushed the door open to save his mother. She would not be the only one that he lost dearly that night. Running out of the town to track down Sephiroth, Cloud's heart beat fast, determination fueling every step of his aching feet and fear nearly knocking his breath away. He'd get him. He'd kill him. If he couldn't bring them back, Cloud would defeat Sephiroth. Since the massacre, Cloud hated fire. There was only destruction, hopelessness, death. Even when he had been given materia to infiltrate ShinRa's Mako reactors during his early AVALANCHE days, he had instead preferred the lightning or ice materia to use. Never again did he want to see fire. But that all changed when fire became kinder, friendly, a true ally—a kind of flame that protected him when things got rough, when they journeyed across the entire planet to track down Sephiroth, and even being there for him when the final battle against their sworn enemy occurred. Cloud didn't need to be afraid of fire anymore, because ever since he rescued him in Hojo's lab along with Aerith, Cloud saw fire in a different light. Of course, that same flame was as ferocious as its owner's bite and claws. Okay, maybe Cloud was still a little scared.

Scarlet. He loved watching it as it graced her porcelain cheeks. She tried to hide it a lot, and it always disappointed Cloud. What was the point of holding the groceries when they went shopping, or sitting by the fire as he gently rubbed her feet after a long day of bartending, or softly caressing her face as he said, "I love you," when she would smile shyly and look away in embarrassment due to her flushed cheeks? Sure he loved the woman with all of his heart, but he was a man as well and there was something satisfying in seeing the woman you love physically react to something that you did. It made him feel happy, lightweight. As if he finally did something right with his life. So when the day came when he was kissing her on the lips and they pulled away, he said, "don't" as she attempted to look down to cover her face. "What?" she asked in confusion. "Don't look away," Cloud explained as he stroked her silky tresses, "because you're beautiful when you blush scarlet."

Crimson. Gushing out of the holes that peppered his best friend's dead body. Crimson. A wave of blood trapped and leaking through the debris of Sector 7; blood that belonged to Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie. Crimson. Appearing on his mother's grave face along with Tifa's father… and Tifa herself. Crimson. A trail slowly making its way down the altar and dropping onto the lake, tainting the tranquility of the water with the blood of the last remaining Centra. Crimson seemed to be everywhere—is still everywhere. On his clothes, his face, his hands. Cloud knew that he could live to be 100 years old, and still have the stain of crimson etched onto his mind and soul. There were a lot of regrets in his life, and it was those regrets that costed him the lives of many innocent people. If only he could cleanse himself of the crimson blood, forgetting everything that happened as if it were just a sick, twisted nightmare. He didn't deserve it though. No matter what people said, he would still feel the burden of his friends and family's fates. It was his cross to carry, and he'd live with it for the rest of his days.

Pure red. Now someone would probably think, "'Pure red' is not a shade," but Cloud Strife can vouch with one hundred percent certainty that there is such a thing. Because that's what he saw when he came face to face with Sephiroth alone. Their long-awaited battle came to an end, as Cid made the final cut to defeat Sephiroth once and for all. The group watched in wonder as Sephiroth's winged form slowly disintegrated, bits and pieces of it blowing into the swirling vortex behind him. There were different reactions all around him. He saw the tears fall from Tifa's face as she realized her vengeance for her father was finally accomplished. Vincent merely stood rigidly, but his onyx eyes were deep and sorrowful, no doubt thinking about his dearest Lucrecia. Cid just said, "about damn time," before collapsing to the ground and wheezing from all the effort. But collectively, everyone was relieved that one step to saving the world had now been fulfilled. At least, that's what Cloud thought. As he climbed out of the crater, he felt it—the presence that had been haunting him for the past five years. He turned around and felt himself being pulled down. He was omniscient, gliding through the Lifestream as if he was pure energy. Then suddenly there Sephiroth was in the darkest corners, blade poised and ready. Cloud began to prepare, but abruptly froze when he saw the barest hints of a smirk. For some reason, Cloud's life flashed before his eyes: his hometown, his mother, Tifa, his failure to make it to SOLDIER, Zack, the flames, the sound of the buster sword piercing Sephiroth's flesh, AVLANCHE, Biggs, Wedge, Jessie, Red XIII, Yuffie, Vincent, Cid, Cait Sith, the crimes ShinRa committed against the planet, the cries of the planet, the red sky caused by Meteor's descent, the stars above the water tower, Aerith's death… Everything flashed in a millisecond. Then, everything turned pure red. Cloud felt his body bulking up, his senses heightening, the latent power he never knew he had crescendo into one final attack move as he charged his former idol: Omnislash. Pure red felt like forever in a split second, as the red finally faded away to white and Sephiroth was finally no more. Cloud looked away from the blinding light, but then he saw an outreached hand… her hand.

Pink. That had been her color. She was always beautiful in her pink dress. Still beautiful, actually, whenever he dreamed of her. Luckily for him and his friends, Cloud had a couple of pictures of a smiling Aerith: one as a group when they were in the Golden Saucer and Yuffie had managed to swipe a very expensive camera from a poor, unsuspecting tourist; and another frame of her that sat neatly on top of the fireplace. That was Cloud's favorite picture of her, where she was lying in a field of grass and surrounded by an abundance of rainbow-streaked flowers. She had been sleeping at the time after a long morning of traveling and Cloud had the responsibility of waking her up. Seeing her, her lips in a slight smile, made Cloud stand there for a few seconds in complete captivation. She looked so angelic, so at peace, that Cloud didn't want to ruin the moment. Using the stolen camera, he quickly shot a picture of her, though he knew the film would never do her justice. Right afterwards, Yuffie had called for him which made Aerith sit up in arousal. "What'd I miss?" she said, yawning and stretching her dainty limbs and causing her pink dress to rise up just enough to make Cloud blush and look away. "Nothing," he replied. She spotted the camera and smiled, saying that they should all take another group photo together before they left for the Temple of the Ancients. He shrugged, telling her that there was no more film. "It's okay. We'll make more memories when we defeat Sephiroth," she affirmed. On the anniversary of her death, Cloud sat in her church and briefly wondered where he would be if he had arrived one minute sooner before Sephiroth murdered her. Sometimes, he wondered if they'd even be together, but he'd quickly dismiss the thought, knowing that thoughts like that were pointless. Besides, he already had a good life, and he was lucky to be in the position that he was today: alive and a guardian to two beautiful children. And having a best friend that was waiting for him back home. He sat there, mulling over his friendship with Aerith, and really just celebrating the life of a person that saved him, saved the planet, and saved a future in which everyone could rebuild and live in peace. It was easier now not to cry when he thought of Aerith (or Zack), because he knew she would always watch over him and the people she loved. Thinking back to the picture of her in that beautiful pink dress, looking like an angel, he realized that she was now the angel that she was always meant to be. Fingering the velvet box in his pocket, he looked up and asked, "So what do you think? You think I'm ready?" The immediate sunlight that filled the church and casting thousands of diamond sparkles across the holy water was his answer. He smiled, standing up and plucking a few yellow flowers to give to Tifa and Marlene. "Thank you Aerith, for everything."

Burgandy. It had been a few days after the defeat of Sephiroth and the fall of Meteor. Well, to put it in a more accurate context, it had been a few days since Aerith summoned the Lifestream to save the planet. Cloud and the crew were dropping off Red XIII, and Cloud found himself sitting on one of the balconies defaced on the cliffs. The sunset illuminated Cosmo Canyon, making the burgundy cliffs look like more of a bright red. Soon the sun set, and the cliffs returned back to its brownish-red hue, cooling down the soil and alerting the fireflies of its time to roam around. Using his fingers, Cloud bunched up the dirt in his hands and held it in front of him. The planet was saved. The place where he was sitting, the gateway between his world and the spiritual world, was being protected by his friend in the afterlife. He sighed, watching the dirt blow away as the night breeze started to appear. Defeating Sephiroth and saving the fragile planet he was on, Cloud hoped the best for himself in the future. He led such a hard life, with too much turmoil and violence that any one person should experience. More importantly, he hoped that one day he could receive forgiveness for the people he let down. Suddenly, he heard laughter below him. Looking down, he spotted Tifa speaking to Yuffie and Reeve, Yuffie doing some bizarre dance. I think it will be all right this time. Because you've always been with me. Smiling, Cloud started to believe again. He didn't just save the planet for no reason, he did it for something personal… for her. If Tifa was around, then he would be fine. Always. Lying down, Cloud let felt the planet surround him, and for once, it wasn't crying.

Red wine. There are moments in life that change a person forever. Cloud himself had been through plenty. But in this moment, as he looks into the red orbs belonging to the love of his life, Cloud had to say that there was nothing even remotely close that topped this. Her red eyes were shining with tears. They were the same orbs that delighted in giving him that beautiful candy apple. He saw them laced with sadness when he walked out of their small town all those years ago, and then again almost lifeless when she was brutally stabbed by Sephiroth. They appeared again when he opened his eyes to find them both wet from the rain, Tifa studying him carefully outside the train station in Midgar. Her wine-tinted eyes were his constant companion, never leaving him for a second even when they reached the Northern Crater and he was foolishly manipulated by Sephiroth to hand over the Black Materia. Her eyes never judged, never stopped caring, and always looked out for him even when he hit the lowest point. His oldest friend was there with him in the Lifestream, piecing his life—their lives back together, never giving up on him when everyone else settled for "there's nothing we can do." Tifa saved him in more ways than one: mind, body, and spirit. She was the beginning, and always will be the center of his reasoning, and she would always be the person he lived for. He constantly strived to be the man that she deserved, because god knows that Tifa should never settle for something less. She was his rock, the mother figure of Denzel and Marlene, the person with eyes that would thoroughly scan her children's homework for any mistakes or be full of mirth when those same kids pulled a fast one on their Aunt Yuffie. She gave him another chance at life and she was the woman that loved him despite all the things he put her through. But Cloud wouldn't do that anymore. He ran away before and hurt the person he cared about most, but he swore he'd never do it again. He didn't want to, because his life was now hers. So as he was down on one knee, he looked into the red-wine eyes of his girlfriend. Her eyes are amazing; they're fantastic; by all rights, the color of her eyes should be its own category. There was nothing in this world that was as lovely as her eyes, or soft, or gentle. All the rubies in the world didn't have the fraction of the shine her eyes had; the shine that was always emitted in his direction. And now those eyes were brimming with tears of joy as she says the one word that changed his life forever. "Yes."

Cloud didn't have a favorite color. But if he had to choose now, the answer is obvious.