That evening, the round dining table in Elmyra's home felt smaller, yet infinitely warmer. The dinner was special: thick slices of toast and crispy battered fish. The aroma of butter and lemon filled the room.
Johnny sat with a rigid posture, though his eyes devoured the food hungrily. From his jacket pocket, which hung on the back of his chair, Puck peeked out, drool nearly dripping at the sight of the fish.
"Boss, save the tail for me! Don't be greedy!" Puck whispered impatiently.
Johnny nudged the pocket gently to quiet him.
"Thank you for the meal... Ma'am," Johnny said politely before beginning to eat.
Elmyra, who was pouring tea, paused. She looked at Johnny, then glanced at her daughter sitting beside the boy, blushing slightly.
"Don't call me Ma'am, Johnny," Elmyra said gently but firmly. "Just call me 'Mom'. It feels too formal for you to call me Ma'am when you're already like part of this family."
Johnny froze for a moment. The word 'Mom' resonated powerfully within him.
"Alright... Mom," he answered stiffly.
Elmyra smiled, satisfied. Her eyes then drifted to Aerith's hair. Something was different. Her daughter's old green ribbon had been replaced by an elegant black silk ribbon embroidered with white lilies.
"Oh, you bought a new ribbon, Aerith?" Elmyra asked. "It's beautiful. When did you buy it?"
Aerith touched the ribbon, then stole a glance at Johnny.
"It was bought for me, Mom," Aerith answered honestly, her eyes shining. "Johnny bought it. And... not just the ribbon."
Aerith reached into her dress pocket and pulled out a softly glowing green crystal orb. Ivalera, hiding behind a flower vase on the table, fluttered closer (unseen by Elmyra) and whispered in Aerith's ear.
"Show your mother just how amazing your shield is, Princess," Ivalera whispered.
"He also bought me this. Cure Materia," Aerith said proudly. "Now I have two Materia, Mom."
Elmyra nearly dropped her teaspoon. She knew the price of such things. In the Slums, genuine Materia was a luxury item possessed only by soldiers or wealthy merchants.
"Good heavens..." Elmyra stared at Johnny in disbelief, her expression shifting to worry. "Johnny, this costs a fortune. It would take us at least a year of savings to afford this. You... you work at your father's workshop, right? I'm sure workshop wages can't possibly be that high."
Silence fell over the table. Puck held his breath inside the jacket. This was the moment of truth.
Johnny put down his bread. He looked Elmyra straight in the eye. He didn't want to lie anymore to the woman who fed him.
"Forgive me, Mom Elmyra," Johnny's voice lowered. "Last week I lied about the 'work tool' on my back."
Johnny took a deep breath.
"At home, I do help Dad in the workshop every morning. But... scrap metal and oil aren't enough to live decently in Sector 7."
Johnny's fist clenched on the table.
"Every afternoon, I go to the Outskirts or the edge of Sector 6. I hunt monsters, Mom. A single small monster can sell for 100 Gil. If I kill 20 a day... I can support my family. My parents are old, they struggle. I chose this path because it's the only thing I can do with my hands."
Elmyra was speechless. She stared at the thirteen-year-old boy in front of her.
The face was young, but the gaze... the gaze was as old as suffering itself. The responsibility he carried far exceeded his age. While other children played ball, Johnny gambled his life for Gil coins.
Tears welled up in the corners of Elmyra's eyes. She reached out, grasping Johnny's rough, scarred hand.
"Truly... at your age, you should be playing, Johnny," Elmyra's voice trembled. "You chose a path far too hard for a child. But... I am truly grateful. You used your blood and sweat money to buy Aerith a protector."
Elmyra squeezed Johnny's hand. "This is no ordinary gift. You are sharing your life with her."
"It's fine, Mom," Johnny replied, trying to sound casual though his heart was touched. "For me, it's just extra pocket money."
Elmyra turned to look at Aerith. Her daughter was holding the Materia tightly, her face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and emotion.
"Guard that Materia, Aerith. Do not waste Johnny's hard work," Elmyra instructed.
"I promise, Mom. I will guard it with my life," Aerith answered firmly.
That night, Johnny slept on the living room sofa, just like the week before. But his sleep was deeper. There were no nightmares.
5:00 AM. The sky was still dark.
Johnny was already awake. He took a cold shower to wake up his nerves, then walked to the garden beside the house.
There, in front of the trickling artificial waterfall, Johnny took off his shirt. The biting morning air didn't make him shiver.
Puck sat atop a decorative garden stone, acting as the 'instructor'.
"Come on, Boss! Swing your sword! Follow the rhythm of the water! Don't be stiff like a robot!" Puck commanded while chewing on leftover bread from the night before.
Johnny didn't answer. He lifted his Scrap Greatsword. The muscles in his back tensed as he began to move his blade. His movements were slow but powerful, in rhythm with the falling water.
Half an hour later.
Morning sunlight began to illuminate the garden. Elmyra and Aerith came out carrying a basket to pick vegetables and herbs from the front garden.
They stopped in their tracks when they saw the scene near the waterfall.
Johnny was training, shirtless. Sweat streamed down his sturdy frame.
But it wasn't his muscles that made Elmyra cover her mouth in shock.
It was the scars.
The boy's body was a map of wounds. There were stab scars, a long slash across his chest, bruises scattered without pattern, and burn scar tissue on his shoulder.
Aerith felt a profound sadness ripple through the Lifestream Bond. Ivalera, sitting on Aerith's shoulder, bowed her head sorrowfully.
"That back... once carried the weight of a shattered world, Princess," Ivalera whispered softly.
"He is truly strong, Mom..." Aerith murmured, her eyes glistening. "But he is also very lonely."
Elmyra stared at Johnny's back with a pained look. Her motherly heart broke.
"Your friend..." Elmyra's voice choked, a tear falling down her cheek. "He fights as if he is at war alone against the world. That body... that isn't the body of a thirteen-year-old. That is the body of a war veteran."
Elmyra wiped her tears.
"If he were my son... of course I would forbid him from ever leaving the house. But seeing the look in his eyes last night... he must have insisted on convincing his parents that he was fine."
The two of them began washing vegetables at the outdoor tap, occasionally glancing at Johnny who was still focused on swinging his sword.
"Aerith," Elmyra asked quietly, picking spinach leaves. "Does he know? About who you really are?"
Aerith nodded slowly. She looked at her reflection in the water bucket, then looked toward Johnny.
"Yes, Mom. I told him everything. About the Cetra. About the Planet's voice."
Aerith offered a faint smile, a smile full of conviction.
"And he didn't run, Mom. He wasn't afraid. Instead, he said... I was the one he had to protect."
In the distance, Johnny finished his final swing with a sharp exhale. Puck clapped enthusiastically.
"Great job, Boss! Now put your shirt on before you catch a cold or make the girl faint!"
Johnny turned, seeing Aerith and Elmyra staring at him. He smiled awkwardly, hurriedly reaching for his shirt.
Elmyra smiled through her tears. "He is a good boy, Aerith. Don't let him go."