Never Ever
By: veils
Kingdom Hearts, Tron/Tifa; The night is starry and she is not with me
a/n: So many requested a sequel to "Enchanted" so here it is. I'd suggest you go and read that first to understand everything, but I guess this could stand by itself.
He has braved fierce heartless, hostile programs, survived being nearly derezzed, and so many other things that would take countless cycles to tell. Out of everything he had encountered though, nothing was as horrendous as this. Here amongst the dizzying flashing lights and pixilated sky, Tron realizes he has become somewhat of a human: he had finally had his heart broken. Though programs don't have hearts, the pain that radiates within his chest must be what it feels like.
(Nothing could be more human)
... ... ...
The first few days after Tifa leaves are complete and utter agony. He rarely sleeps: he rarely sleeps because every time he closes his eyes he sees her and it hurts the place where his heart should be. In those scarce moments where he does fall into slumber, he sees a flash of long dark hair, pale skin, and red lips that could shame the reddest of roses. Tron wakes up then, and cries out her name and dares to hope that maybe she's just out somewhere admiring the tall buildings that drift up into the sky, or the lights that are so bright they dilate her wine colored irises with a single glance.
(But she's nowhere to be found and he returns to crying her name)
... ... ...
A week passes since she has left, and suddenly the Grid has a dark cloud upon it. It rains and rains and rains and everyone says it's a record, but Tron wonders if perhaps something beyond the dark clouds and flashes of lightening is crying because of her leaving as well.
(That wondrous girl left an effect on everything she touched)
... ... ...
Tron manages to grasp onto a small bit of optimism that maybe she'll return. It courses through his veins like a disease and nearly eats him alive, because that one single shred of hope clings to him like stardust. Yet, the body dies a slow death; it shreds each hope like a leaf, until one day there are none. Slowly the soul becomes as skeletal as a bare tree; as lonely as a graveyard. No hopes. Nothing remains.
(Nothing remains)
... ... ...
There are tangible moments in time that creep up upon us at the most inconspicuous of intervals; when we realize just exactly what we are put on this planet for. What ever it might be, our fates are predetermined and are set in motion as soon as we are given life.
It was in-between that time when moonlight was traded for sunlight that Tron realized his sole purpose was to live for her. That maybe the only reason he exists in the first place is to make sure that the world she lives in is always safe, always protected, so that no harm may come to her. Tif—she was his sole purpose in life —the only thing worth living for. And yet she was gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. Just like his reason for truly existing.
(There wasn't a reason to go on without her)
... ... ...
It's her. It's T-I-F-A. His Tifa. He hasn't spoken in her name in so long, and now he tries it out:
"Tifa."
It feels perfect.
She grasps onto his body; her cold hands warm with the contact, and crystalline tears cascade from her eyes. Tron lifts a hand, slowly, because he thinks that maybe this is just a dream that he'll soon wake from, and oh how he wants to savor it while it lasts. His finger brushes away a tear, and he stares at the droplet with a childlike curiosity. (Programs cannot cry)
The words "I'm sorry" rests on her tongue like sea salt and she licks her dry lips. She had left so many things unsaid that should've been voiced: about her heart, where it hurt exactly at the thought of him not with her, and how often. (You're too late, love)
Her eyes rove his body, taking in his fading circuitry and realizing she returned far too late. Tifa wraps her arms around his body, and smiles gently as his breath hitches and he inhales sharply: the feeling of her warm body against him is divine, heaven. Programs aren't written to believe in heaven, but after this, oh god he's become a believer. Tifa begins to ramble on that she'll leave and find someone to fix him, but he silences her with a smile:
"At least I got to see you one last time."
Tron closes his eyes, and as he did the future haunted him with memories that he'd never have: of being by her side, of having her heart beat only for him, of her hand forever intertwined with his and fitting perfectly like a key, or running his fingers through her ebony tresses and inhaling the scent of lilacs it emits. The last thing he sees as his eyes flutter shut is her face: lovely and perfect and beautiful despite the flowing tears.
(His circuitry dies)
And then Tifa began to cry. It was the worst kind of sobbing: the kind that hurts your chest and steals your breath; makes you gasp for even the tiniest bit of air.
(And no one could hear her.)
a/n: Well, I hope you enjoyed that. Quite possibly the saddest piece I've ever written. Thoughts, opinions, and assessments are adored.