For longti fans, Final Fantasy VII: Crisis Core was the continuation of a story they had always wanted to see.
Even though the outco was destined to be a tragedy, players simply couldn't stay away. Despite knowing how painful the ending would be, they still willingly dove into the heartbreak just to experience that journey.
Unsurprisingly, the ga beca the most popular title of the month. Many players even labeled it as a must-play ga of the year—even for newcors to gaming, it was absolutely worth experiencing.
And for veteran gars, that went without saying.
But with that popularity ca controversy.
It was revealed that Aerith once shared a romantic bond with Zack, but that relationship, over ti, gradually faded. Zack ultimately never got to see the girl he longed for again and died with that regret.
So, just one week after Crisis Core released, a petition surfaced on Gastar Electronic Entertainnt's official forums, requesting the studio to create an alternate ending—one where Zack gets a happy ending, or at least a mont with Aerith before his death, to fulfill the dreams of fans.
The internet also split into two factions.
...
...
One side believed that Tifa was Cloud's true love, and Aerith was Zack's. That, to them, felt like the fairest outco.
And the number of players entering the Final Fantasy VII fandom because of Crisis Core was even greater than expected.
In this world, not all players use official channels. There were many pirated users as well—far more than one might imagine. And even they, after experiencing Crisis Core for the first ti, fell in love with it. Many placed the ga on a pedestal as a personal masterpiece, and wholeheartedly embraced Zack and Aerith's love story.
Longti FFVII fans, however, had more complicated feelings about Aerith.
Many of them strongly supported the emotional connection between Aerith and Cloud, leading to heated debates—and even full-on fla wars.
It wasn't just Gastar's forums. On Facebook, its video platform, and all across social dia, Final Fantasy VII discussions dominated the discourse.
As more people joined the debate, so who had no idea what was going on thought it was so kind of ssy celebrity love triangle.
A few low-tier tabloids even ran articles portraying the Zack–Aerith–Cloud dynamic like it was a real-world romantic scandal, writing with ridiculous dramatics.
At that point, the discussion had begun to exceed the influence of the ga itself.
But Takayuki wasn't all that surprised.
Back in his original world, similar argunts had gone on for well over a decade.
If anything, it just proved how deeply impactful this ga really was.
Later, when hints of a possible reconstruction of the original Final Fantasy VII began to appear in the Remake series, both sides of the fandom—regardless of loyalty—were equally stirred.
"Takayuki, tell honestly—do you support Zack and Aerith, or Cloud and Aerith?"
At Gastar Electronic Entertainnt headquarters, Airi Sawazawa had co to confront Takayuki in person.
Lately, she'd been focused on researching the new Switch console, so she hadn't been very involved with other ga projects.
That's why she only learned from colleagues that Final Fantasy VII: Crisis Core had already launched.
She cleared out three or four days from her schedule just to play the ga.
After finishing it, she stayed depressed at ho for nearly the sa amount of ti before she could bring herself to leave the house again.
Her mood was still heavy when she returned to the office.
And the first thing she did was find Takayuki and ask the one question that had been weighing on her mind.
Looking at her, Takayuki smiled and asked in return:
"Does it matter?"
"Of course it matters! I want to know which one you like more!"
Takayuki shook his head.
"I wouldn't choose either. I'm a ga creator. My mission is to craft compelling stories—and I try to keep my own emotions out of those stories. I believe stories should develop naturally, not be driven by my personal preferences."
Yes, the ending was tragic. But that's the nature of storytelling. Even when he first played Crisis Core back in his old world, Takayuki had wished for a better outco.
He'd often fantasized: If I were the developer, I'd make a perfect ending. I'd make everything right.
But once he truly beca a creator, he understood—art demands a certain level of detachnt. Even coldness.
There was a quote he liked, one often used in literary fiction:
"Writers don't create stories. They're simply the ssengers."
These stories may well be playing out in so parallel world, and the creator's role is just to observe—and then bring them to life in this one.
So Takayuki chose not to insert himself emotionally.
And the debate? To him, it was a good thing.
A creator should not take sides—doing so would effectively declare an "official" answer to the ga's aning.
But Final Fantasy VII was never ant to have a single answer. Like the saying goes:
"A thousand people, a thousand Hamlets."
Creators should avoid interfering in discussions between their players.
"Well, I still prefer Zack and Aerith," Airi declared. "They had four or five years—maybe more—of genuine connection. Their bond was way deeper than anything with Cloud!"
Takayuki simply nodded.
"Then trust your own judgnt. Don't look to others for answers."
"...Fine," Airi replied reluctantly, clearly not completely satisfied.
She couldn't help but rember how she felt when she first played Final Fantasy VII years ago—how it always had that trademark feeling of no happy endings.
But that's also what made it unforgettable.
Not long after Airi left, several other employees also ca to Takayuki with the sa question.
All asking about Zack vs. Cloud.
Takayuki, feeling helpless, repeated his response each ti. Until eventually, he just started telling people:
"Don't ask for my opinion on Crisis Core. Ask again and I'll fire you."
Only after that did the employees finally settle down.
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