Stars rewritten

In an alternate universe where Cloud is the university's popular, rising star jock, and Aerith is the campus sweetheart on a music scholarship, Fate grants the star-crossed lovers ill-fated in their past lives another shot at happily-ever-after.

Will a chance meeting in this life finally allow them to rewrite the stars? [Cloud x Aerith, post-Compilation, AU ]

"I…" Aerith's tone was quiet, "I...didn't know you guys were dating."

We're not! We're not, dammit. His mind screamed. But his bravado act betrayed him and so he remained motionless.

Aerith looked between Tifa and Cloud, the latter averting his gaze anywhere but on emerald eyes.

a/n:

I'm going to spend a bit more on this chapter on Aerith's backstory, and I also hope hope you'll recognize the scene from FFVII:Advent Children that I'll kinda insert in here. Well, uh, just read the fic!

And yes, insert same Anti-Cloti/Tifa warning in my fic. If you're a fan, best you stay away yadda..

Myst-san

-x chapter five : starless

Aerith artfully arranged the variety of multi-colored flowers in her hands.

A popular date for wedding anniversaries was coming up, and requests for especially red and pink roses were filling up her work email briskly. Maintaining her passion for floral arrangement which had culminated in her first florist business had been difficult alongside pursuing her music studies, which although generated her the necessary income to tide her through university, had also brought its hatch of endless sleep-deprived days.

She looked around the room - thankfully Yuffie had been understanding enough of a housemate to let her store all her flower instocks in their apartment. There was no way her small enterprise at this stage could fund the hefty rental fees of a proper shop yet. Their house had been turned into a mini flower garden but Yuffie had never minded, preferring the fragrance and colours of a girly, rainbow-filled home.

It was strange how her adoration for flowers had started from a young age. Aerith as a child had constantly woken up from recurring dreams of floating in fields of flowers. In them, she would find herself under the same pasty, white sky, surrounded by the same lemon-gold lilies dancing around her, and always, always, there would always be a man, and a woman whom she didn't recognize, standing back to back, in the centre of the fields.

She never got to see their faces, but young Aerith could hear them speak, crystal clear. The man spoke in such a broken, hollow tone, that Aerith remembered badly wanting to reach out to comfort him. He would speak about forgiveness – asking the lady standing by his back if sins could ever be forgiven, and if anything, if he deserved that forgiveness.

Young Aerith always wondered what he had done to the lady beside him whom he probably loved beyond death to wreck him so much. There was so much pain in his voice, that shook a barely adolescent Aerith even on the cusp of understanding human emotions.

Then the faceless lady would speak – and with that melodious tone of hers that reminded young Aerith so much of the loveliest of chimes in a dry summer spell, she would laugh at the man for being so silly at being so despondent, and ask who he really wanted to seek forgiveness from.

Just like this, the couple drifted away in space and time from Aerith's dreams as she grew up, but that image of them standing among abundant flowers had long been embedded into her mind, intensifying her ever-growing love for those flower buds and blossoms.

Aerith had long made up her mind that when she grew up, she wanted her own flower shop – partially as a tribute for the couple who used to visit her floral dreams.

With nostalgic fondness, the amber-haired flower girl now traced her fingers amidst buttercups and daisies before her forest-green eyes landed on the petals of yellow lilies.

She thought back to Cloud's eyes – the shade of striking blue touched by stormy oceans.

When she had first laid eyes on him back in the music room, those eyes with a thousand hues of blue had lured her back to those long-forgotten dreams...especially of that broken, hurt man who longed to be forgiven. Aerith couldn't explain the connection, but she had felt on the spur of the moment after, to offer Cloud something in person.

...Hence, she had given him a yellow lily.

For no good reason, it seemed. Perhaps, just for the sake of thanking Cloud - for the color of his eyes had helped jolt an old, distant dream that reminded her why she had started her floral ambitions.

Aerith found herself smiling. And as if fate had followed the path of the yellow flower, it had led them to one chance encounter, to the next, to here.

"Penny for your thoughts, milady?" Behind her, Yuffie was calling out in her usual energetic manner, slinging one tiny arm around her housemate's shoulder. She was stuffing sushi rolls into her mouth as she spoke, "Man, Aerith, I've got to admit – lately your cooking has been through the roof. What's up with that?"

The amber-haired girl dipped her head shyly, which Yuffie being much too intuitive for her age, caught it anyway.

"Oh my god, are you blushing? Is my unflappable housemate blushing? What in the world has gotten into you, Aerith?" Yuffie was teasing her housemate, "First you cook way too much for the both of us, then you blush when I ask you why. Okay, Ms. Violinist, out with it—who's the lucky guy?"

"Yuffie!" Aerith burst into giggles – she couldn't help it. Yuffie was so bright and cheery and she was so fond of the smart young girl. "Stop teasing me!"

"And you've been disappearing somewhere for the past few nights…" Yuffie wagged a finger, "Don't think I haven't noticed! Creeping back to our house after midnight. Naughty, naughty Gainsborough."

Aerith tried to shut her friend up by sticking a stalk of daisy into Yuffie's mouth, who bit it playfully like it was a prize. Yuffie wasn't wrong – Aerith had been out the past two nights picnicking under the stars with a certain spikey-haired boy at the Colosseum…

Wistful thoughts shook her. Aerith remembered brief flashes from the first night she had fallen asleep on Cloud's shoulder, to the following night she had decided to visit the Colosseum again because she had taken to the star-speckled spot so much where she felt was the only place she could get away from the distractions of the world.

It wasn't like Aerith had meant to disturb Cloud at training. She hadn't even dropped him an email, or a phone text (they had exchanged numbers after their first starry night – or more like she had taken the liberty to key her number into his phone with a giggle, disregarding his startled face). She hadn't sent a single notification to signify her presence.

…But he had turned up anyway, as if he had known she was going to be there.

He had raised an eyebrow at her presence, asking what she was doing here.

She had beamed radiantly at him as if all the stars smiling down from above paled next to her stellar expression, and raised her bento box in her hands, "In the mood for gyozas tonight, Cloud?"

He had joined her silently. That night, they had barely spoken a word, credit to him being too tired from training. If the Blitzball season was approaching and the pressure was building up, it was showing on him. Cloud had looked like he was barely keeping himself awake until he dug into the gyozas she presented him.

And the next night had been similar… He had shown up at the same spot, knowing she would be there, bento box waiting in hand.

"What are you doing here?" He would ask. Same question.

"Because I'm not sick of you yet," she had said lightly with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Gyozas today?" He asked, settling down into the seat next to her.

She shook her head, offering him his packed dinner which he accepted graciously with a nod and a soft thank-you. "Nope, thought you might appreciate something for a change."

He had found himself staring into a box full of onigiris with ketchup drawn all over its triangular faces into the shape of smiley-faces. On another exhausting, long day for the athlete who had trained unceasingly for the upcoming season, the sight of smiley-faced rice balls cheered his dull eyes up immensely.

That night, as he finished his onigiris and sat beside her, she had eased into her routine of stargazing while she ate her portion, until it was her turn to feel a feather-light weight against her shoulder.

Her eyes had turned, to catch his sleeping face resting on her neck.

A soft smile made its way to her lips.

That night, she noticed how brightly the stars had shone, more intense than before.

"So, you gonna tell me who's the lucky guy?" Yuffie was snatching her back to reality, her chirpy voice piercing through Aerith's flashbacks from two nights ago.

"You're not going to believe me, Yuf," Aerith pulled a face.

"Wait – don't tell me it's Reno!? MY Reno!?" Yuffie was shrieking, gesturing wildly to the Blitzball posters she had stuck all around her side of the house. She was president of Reno's biggest fan club, and she hailed the Zanarkand Raider's Blitzball player as her biggest crush. Yuffie whispered harshly into Aerith's ears, "If it's him, I won't hesitate to fight you neck and tooth, Aerith."

Aerith laughed till her sides hurt, "No, silly! You can have Reno all to yourself."

"Then tell me, who?" Yuffie lowered her whispering tone, "Who is that boy who is causing you eye circles and making you return late these few nights like Cinderella?"

Aerith flicked a playful finger at Yuffie's forehead, "Promise you won't judge."

"I won't." Yuffie held up her pinkie finger.

Aerith sighed, gesturing to Reno's huge wall poster Yuffie had hung on the wall near the kitchen. "You're going to go berserk if I tell you he's Reno's teammate."

"WHAT!? WHAT THE FUCK, GAINSBOROUGH!" Yuffie's shrill shrieks reverberated across the walls of their house.

In the next minute as Aerith revealed that she had recently met Cloud Strife, Yuffie had in the span of seconds gone from shrieking fangirl for her housemate's blooming friendship with the Blitzball star player, to number one interrogator on any details she wanted to dig and investigate like any concerned, worried friend.

Yuffie was 16 and young, but she would never condone anyone hurting her friend's feelings or breaking her heart.

"So you're…playing Masterchef – for Cloud?" Yuffie demanded to know, pointing to the plentiful food leftovers in their kitchen.

Aerith nodded, dropping her gaze onto the floor. "It's…a bad idea, right?" She tweedled with her thumbs. "I must look so desperate trying to think I can win his friendship by cooking my way to his stomach."

"Girrllllll, you're wrong –" Yuffie took both of Aerith's hands, held them close to her fluttering chestnut brown eyes, "If you're talking about any man, yes, anything will do. But this is CLOUD FRIGGIN' STRIFE – rising star player in the Blitzball world, so if you want to win his heart, you've got to go all out, milady."

Determination shone in Yuffie's eyes as she continued with fervor, "You want to cook, you cook the best fucking food he'll ever taste in his whole damn life and make him remember you for that, girlfriend! You do whatever you can to win his heart, Aerith Gainsborough."

Bewildered silence met Yuffie's statement.

Then Aerith was smiling, her dainty fingers returning her friend's squeeze. "Hey, thanks, Yuf."

"Don't think you owe me nothing! Next time if Cloud ever introduces you to his teammates, you're bringing me along so I can finally meet the redhead man of my Turks dreams!"

Aerith laughed, picking up another daisy stalk between her fingers and playfully shoving it into Yuffie's mouth.

Tifa poked her salad with a fork, deliberately taking longer than usual to chew through her food.

She was having lunch in the Life Sciences cafeteria with Cloud, after much struggle trying to find a suitable time when they could meet. Cloud had been so fussy about his timetable this entire week that it had been impossible to schedule lunch together. It was either him having another Blitzball practice, an assignment due, or having to help with the household chores before his housemates had his throat.

Tifa couldn't recall another time when the spikey-blonde haired boy had been this incredibly busy. In the past even with him entering the foray of professional sports, he had never neglected their friendship. His sudden change of behavior now left Tifa feeling unnerved and discomforted as she now poked another hole into the lettuce of her bowl.

"You…not hungry?" Cloud had looked up from his burger and fries seated opposite her.

"Cloud," She pushed her salad bowl away and stared seriously into the Blitzball player's eyes, "We need to talk."

Cloud hated personal talks of any kind. His folded his arms across his chest in a defensive manner, "Uh, sure. What's up?"

"You didn't show up for dinner after training the other night. Your teammates…They were all there, and Reno said you were reluctant to join us," Tifa frowned, "Barret, Cid, Vincent – they were having the time of their lives. So… where were you? Just home, alone? I texted you, and you never replied. Twice." She outwardly winced at the memory.

"Uh," Cloud looked to the floor, the fry hanging mid-way from his lips, "I…was busy elsewhere." He wasn't going to blurt out and admit that he had been eating out of a bento box stargazing with someone else these past nights.

His heart squeezed at the thought of the amber-haired lady. He felt such an insane urge to protect their memory and keep it like this – between the two of them. No one else needed to know.

"Really? Barret said you didn't even get home after they had returned," Her eyes peered at him closer, as if hoping she might see past him, "That's not the point. I was waiting for you. Couldn't you have returned my text?"

He refused her gaze although his eyebrows were knitting together with a tinge of annoyance. He hadn't given up his precious lunch time to sit here and be interrogated about his whereabouts.

"If I was being honest," she stared at him over her salad bowl, "I'd think you were having midnight rendezvouses with someone else."

That made him choke on his burger.

Cloud hurriedly wiped his mouth and gulped down his glass of milk.

"Never mind, Cloud," she was sighing, before retrieving something from her pocket and sliding it across the table towards him. It was a piece of paper. "Just wanted to ask you if you might be keen to attend this with me?"

Cloud examined it closer. "What is it?"

"It's a recital. Like a music concert of sorts, if you know what I mean," she was explaining, which wasn't really necessary as his eyes scanned the paper and his heart did the familiar flutter.

Aerith's face... was on the front cover of the paper.

It was a flyer of some sort, with big bold letters in the front stating it was a classical music concert.

ZANARKAND' CONSERVATORY OF MUSIC
presents
Gaia Chamber Summer Concert
held at Genesis Hall, Zanarkand University

Cloud digested the text, the fluttering of his heart increasing multi-folds as he tried his darndest to ignore the exquisite face modelled on the front, violin in hands, looking lost in her own musical world. He flipped the flyer over, the concert programme on the back.

He held his breath. There, her name. In black and white.

There were a few other names alongside hers, but he could see nothing except the carving of her initials in monochrome font.

"Cloud, is something wrong?" Tifa questioned.

"How…" he started, indicating to the flyer with an index finger, "How did you get this?"

"Oh, Aerith," Tifa pointed to the girl on the front, "the girl who's the violin soloist for this concert—"

"Yes – how do you know her?" He pressed.

Tifa shot him a quizzical look, "Uh, she's a friend of mine. She delivers flowers to us at Seventh Heaven. Those floral décor you see around the bar? They're hers. Lovely flowers, best quality. She'll never short-change us."

Tifa's words sunk in, but did nothing to quell the rising emotions in his chest.

Cloud sat up straighter in his chair, taking the flyer in his hands and staring at it, hard. He was quiet, lost in his own world of raging thoughts akin to the look on Aerith's modelled face as she engrossed herself in her craft.

His eyes combed the flyer – dammit, how did she end up looking even more arresting on paper?

He winced visibly. Stop using the word 'arresting' on her, Strife. She is NOT arresting. No. Get it out of your system.

Still, rapid flashbacks of her smiling up at him under starry nights had not been easy to wipe off from his memory. Those visions, if not arresting, definitely did not fall into any other category unworthy of flattering her.

"So…you'll go with me, Cloud? To the concert."

"When is it?"

"Tomorrow evening. Ah, I know it's really last minute but I only met with Aerith yesterday when she was on her delivery rounds at the bar. I would love to support her after all she's done for Seventh Heaven."

Tomorrow…Thank God Reeve had been in his better moods lately and cancelled practice for the team to have their R&R for one frickin' blue moon moment.

"Yep, okay," Cloud answered.

Surprise registered on Tifa's face. "What? You will?" She then broke into an overjoyed smile, breaking her calm exterior so fast she stood up excitedly in her chair, salad bowl all forgotten. "Thanks, Cloud!"

"Can…I keep this?" Cloud held the flyer between his fingers, before quickly adding, "Just so I have a copy of the programme."

"Oh, it's yours to keep. Pick me up tomorrow?"

He only remembered nodding faintly, his thoughts too distracted on the violinist at the front of the flyer. His eyes saw nothing else – but her.

"Yea, tomorrow." He replied, more so to no one in particular.

He thought of the few nights she had visited him tirelessly after his trainings at the Sphere. Sure, she never intended to bother him - she would say all the time, but she had always appeared in the end with packed dinners in her hands meant for him, did she not?

And by their third night, Cloud had realized there was an unmistakable spring in his step as he headed towards the direction of the bench-stands, hoping for a chance she would be there. Even all manner of persuasion from his teammates could not lure him to after-training dinners at the Seventh Heaven. No amount of calls from his housemates could get him to answer when his phone battery was dead flat and he hadn't bothered to charge it up. Not even the prospect of seeing Tseng and Rufus get into a striptease dare challenge in their intoxicated states at the bar was enough to drag him out of his new hangout under the stars, with her.

And at the end of every weary night, she would be there, healing all of his bruises and exhausted bones not by any physical touch of hers, but by lighting his world up with a smile on her face – a lighthouse to the lost sailing emotions in his heart; a beacon in his dark world anchoring him to shore.

With finality, Cloud decided it was high time he paid her a visit, in her own little world of music, just like she had done for him and expected nothing in return.

He thought that she at least deserved that.

If he was blown away by her on stage, he tried his best not to show it.

It was hard – when she had taken the limelight performing her violin concerto with such virtuoso, in a hall where every acoustics was stripped to its bare minimum. Aerith didn't disappoint even the harshest classical music critics sitting at the front, and she had left the crowd standing in wild ovation and rousing applause at the end of her performance.

Cloud couldn't believe it. In the time he had known her, she had thoroughly downplayed her reputation as a superstar violinist who had endeared herself to hordes of fans in the classical music world. She had left out the part that she had her own following of fans – from die-hard classical music fans who cheered her name when she got on stage, to the younger generations of children and teenagers she had inspired to follow in her footsteps.

Cloud had no classically trained musical ear, but he could sit and listen to her well-shaped violin lines she expressed on her instrument all day. Her playing was excellently clean, and with the well-timed instrumental climaxes of the orchestra behind her, it was obvious she had eclipsed every other soloist for the night.

The audience had paid to watch her – that much was obvious.

She was spectacular on stage, possessing an innate stage presence gifted to her talent. At the end of the concert when the fans screamed their encores, Aerith had barely pacified them with another piece before the curtains closed on her with a flourish.

Tifa was now excitedly pulling a smartly dressed Cloud backstage. "C'mon, Cloud, we got to say hello to Aerith! Wasn't she incredible?"

Yep, that was bloody insane.

He couldn't believe how modest Aerith had been, concealing her stardom and talent behind those innocent, enthralling eyes of hers. She…was so different from the girl he knew from stargazing nights. On stage, she was fearless, even intimidating in her musical prowess, wearing a long black dress that glittered like her eyes that focused on nothing but the instrument she held in her hands.

Yet, she was the same person, anyway – and that was what made her so mesmerizing.

Great, now I'm even using words like mesmerizing. What the fuck has gotten into me?

First arresting, now this. He needed to get a grip—

"C'mon, we're almost backstage!"

As Tifa dragged Cloud towards the back of the concert hall, he realized with mortification that he was going to come face to face with her in less than a few ticking seconds.

His ears burnt. His heart did the thing, again.

That thing that entailed one too many flips, somersaults and turns.

"Tifa, wait—" He called out desperately, wanting to halt their advance.

"We're just going to say hi, okay? Harmless. We're not trespassing." Tifa assured him.

"It's not that, I just don't think it's a good idea—" He realized they had stopped outside the backstage door only permissible to performers. Fuck. The door stopped in front of his face like it had stopped on the edge of his heart. Why was he so bloody nervous?

Tifa was already knocking and asking the person on door duty if they could see Aerith and speak to her, explaining they were friends and wanted to say hi.

Cloud considered hiding, and found a corner a little way off the backstage door. When Tifa wasn't looking, he had sprinted to hide behind the shadows of the walkway.

"Tifa! You're here!" He could hear Aerith squealing in delight. He could see the back of her black dress down the length of her heeled shoes. She looked incredibly posh and classy tonight, especially the way the glitter sparkles weaved around her amber hair set tousled in its natural waves.

From a distance, he could hear himself exhale. Mesmerizing wasn't even a word enough to do her justice at this angle.

Cloud wanted to punch himself silly. STOP. THINKING. STRIFE.

He could hear Aerith and Tifa converse excitedly. Before he could anticipate the curveball, he overheard Tifa mentioning him.

"—And I brought someone with me! Thought you might wanna meet him at last." Tifa was shifting the topic to him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

If he timed it right, he could make it out of the exit door in fifteen seconds.

"Oh! You mean the man you're always telling me about?" Aerith was giggling, "Ooh, who? Where is he?"

Flight or fight mode kicked in. Go, STRIFE! GO!

"Cloud! He's over there! Come here!"

"Cloud?"

Shit, he was screwed.

He sighed and stepped out of the shadows defeatedly. He could feel the ladies' gazes settle on him, especially Aerith's, whom he couldn't bear to look her way. He could sense her stunned silence from where he was.

"Here, Cloud. This is my friend, Aerith." Tifa was tugging on his reluctant hand, and he tumbled forward clumsily as the corridor light found him and brought out the awkwardness on his face.

Aerith stared blankly at the spikey-blonde haired man who had donned a white collared, buttoned smart shirt and dark trousers today for her concert. If she wasn't so shellshocked, she would have found him too dashing and boyishly handsome for his own good.

"I…" Aerith's tone was quiet, as if she wasn't sure where to begin, "I…didn't know you guys were dating."

We're not! We're not, dammit. His mind screamed. But his bravado act betrayed him and so he remained motionless.

Tifa was speaking again, beaming, "Oh, Cloud accompanies me all the time to events and stuff like that. So I asked him if he had wanted to come watch a music concert with me. You were amazing, Aerith!"

Aerith was looking uncertainly between her friend and Cloud, the latter still averting his gaze anywhere but on emerald eyes, instead finding his polished smart shoes suddenly very interesting.

"Thank you, Tifa, glad to hear that," Aerith finally responded with a small, but tired smile, "I hope Cloud had enjoyed it, too."

"Oh, I'm sure he did," Tifa laughed, waving a dismissive hand, "Knowing him since childhood, he pretends he doesn't, but I know he has a thing for culture and arts events like this."

"…Really?" Aerith was lifting an imperceptible eyebrow now, her gaze settling quietly on Cloud. Since childhood?

The spikey-haired boy wanted to bury a hole beneath himself and hide inside, forever, six feet under. He opened his mouth to speak, to say something, anything, to ease the discomfort and tension that had bloomed into the air, but nothing came out.

He dared a look at the amber-haired violinist who had been so brilliant on stage awhile ago, and his heart fell when she caught his eyes and instantly averted hers elsewhere. She was avoiding him – he could tell. Her eyes were scrambling to hide from him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He had this inexplicable urge to take Aerith by the hand, grab her, and pull her out of this concert hall somewhere where he could explain everything – but he couldn't understand. Why? Why did he have to feel this way, and what did he have to explain?

Confusion ran amok in him, confounding his brain further as he could not grasp at this new emotion clawing at him – the urge to protect her from something that could potentially hurt her.

"Tifa—" He tried again to speak, but Aerith had beat him to it, cutting them off with a nonchalant wave of her hand; or a pretense of it.

"It was great to see you guys. I'm happy, really," she was smiling that silly smile of hers that Cloud knew she put on each time she wasn't feeling truly joyous but did anyway for the sake of others around her, "I've…I've got to go – autographs to sign outside and stuff to clear behind. I'll see you guys around, okay?"

The girls hugged and waved their goodbyes, and Aerith threw Cloud a small but heartening smile over her shoulders before disappearing beyond the door.

Cloud swore he could hear his heart shred, but that, again, didn't make any fucking sense.

Why was he so concerned what Aerith thought? What did it matter?

And before he could help it, he had gritted his teeth and hurled himself towards the door, "A-Aerith!" He had blurted out. But it was too late - security waved him away and Aerith was gone.

Cloud stood motionless. His mind reeled. All he could think of was how desperately he wanted to fix things and remedy that stunned, doleful look on her face. He had not meant for things to go this way showing up for her concert.

"Cloud?" Tifa stuttered from behind.

Cloud turned around, meeting Tifa's confused set of eyes.

"You...know Aerith?" She was whispering now, a look on her face that told him she didn't quite understand.

Cloud sighed irritably, then muttered an excuse to Tifa about having to rush back home to finish an assignment due. "I've got to go," he told her curtly.

He turned on his feet, then ran like hell.

The next night after Blitzball practice had ended, Cloud had literally jumped out of the Sphere still dripping wet from head to toe, tearing himself out of his wet gear, and making a run for the bench-stands. He ignored his teammates yelling at him at his strange demeanour tonight. He could care less.

He ran the perimeter of the bleachers, making a full three hundred and sixty degrees to circle around the entire spectators' area that hugged the walls of the Sphere.

He was greeted, bench-stand after another, with vacant emptiness.

Not a sign, of her.

His feet arrived back at the usual spot – their usual spot. Funny, how they had only met thrice here now, but his feet found home above this particular cement.

Wherein he would remember on previous nights walking up here expectantly to find her greeting him with her usual smile and packed dinner, there was nothing today.

No Aerith, no bento box, no comforting smile to ease his weariest days.

Even the skies above were mocking him without a single speck of star tonight.

TBC

a/n:

anyone recognized the FFVII:AC scene from Aerith's childhood dreams? Yep – omg that scene of Cloud and Aerith standing back to back in AC where Cloud's so broken always breaks my heart. Sobs.

Hoped you like this chapter, even if it's a tad bit angsty. And I do apologize for the lack of Clerith moment – next chappie I'll try and make up for it *winks

WAIT that's assuming you comment/review to make my day first! ; ) you know you wanna

Myst-san