"Papa ... "
"Sephiroth!?"
"Sephiroth did this to you, didn't he?"
- - -
Blood ... it was everywhere, and it darkened her hands with its crimson ambrosia. Tears bubbled at her eyes, spilled over as iridescent tracks along her cheeks. Anger filled her then, and on the heels of it, an indescribable, cutting pain. It wasn't too far from here - across the pathways of Mount Nibel - that she had gone to look for the spirit of her Mother all those years ago and now ... here ... to lose her Father as well?
Although now was somewhat different from all those years ago. Tifa was a child back then when her Mother had passed and Cloud had been there, following her when the others were too frightened. But ... Cloud wasn't here now to run after her and make sure if she was safe. Yet another presence lost. It was almost too much to bear. It was too much to bear.
Glimmering in the light she saw it, not too far from her Father's lifeless form. The long-sword glinted like a slender ray of hope trapped in burnished silver. It was a way to vent her anger. It was a way to exact her revenge. Tifa clasped its heavy burden into her palms, and the fury deep inside her erupted. "Sephiroth... SOLDIER... Mako Reactors... Shinra... Everything! I hate them all!" Her voice echoed, bouncing back eerily in the humming space of the Reactor.
The Masamune was heavy and long in her shaking hands, but her tumultuous emotions fueled the actions she took next. "How could you do that to Papa and all the townspeople?" She raced deeper down the red path and up the stairway, charging at Sephiroth with blind, ruthless anger. Hefting the sword up with all of the strength she had left, Tifa swung it down, only to be met by an empty, glowing gaze and the inhuman grip which pried the weapon away from her.
Time seemed to slow and fall away from Tifa as her eyes were riveted to the Masamune and its shining - almost hypnotic - blade as she realized it's path. And it was impossible for her to stop it. Shock flitted over her face briefly, it flashed ripe in her eyes as the sword's blade raised -
talking with the item shop owner's daughter, lyria
the smell of apple pancakes on sunday mornings that mom made
training sessions in the back of the inn with zangan
being cooped up in the room on rainy days, picking out keys on the piano
the yearly festival nibelheim held, all the colorful lights and the townspeople's laughter
tow-headed cloud, being pushed around by the other kids
hiking along the dusty trails of mount nibel, showing the tourists around
father, with the challenge to play yet another game of spades
snow days when it looked like the whole town was buried in white
the memories oh, the memories -
- and came down, arcing through the air with unforgiving grace and it sliced deeply into Tifa's skin. Her body bent back, growing slack as her mouth opened to scream. The cry of pain was choked in her throat because all that was left was the excruciating agony. It dully shot through her limbs and seemed to throb with each beat of her heart. As she fell through the air and down the stairs, a tear slid down her cheek as she closed her eyes, dark lashes fanning across pale, pale skin.
motherfathercloud
ohgodamigoingtodie?
The cruelest month.