and she moves on, a final fantasy vii fanfic

And

She

She decides that it's time to move on, with or without him.

[1] And so she wonders.

He still goes to her, and it makes her go mad. She doesn't understand why he still does, because she thought, no, she knows he moved on. So the question still lingers.

Why does he still run?

Suddenly the door opens and the very soft tinkling of the bell wakes her from her reverie. She puts on her bar smile – the fakest smile she owns, and she puts on like a suit of armor – to protect herself. For the moment the question dawdles.

Protect her of what?

A mop of golden spiky tresses appears and suddenly her smile disappears (and she wonders why). He nods in acknowledgment and quietly stomps upstairs. First he is to check on the kids then to lock himself up in his room. How does she know? She's known him for almost all her life, and she knows (and she hates the fact she does) that he is just empty –

– Empty, empty empty.

(Just like her heart, just like her soul)

[2] She will adventure and try to find herself, again.

She thinks that love is overrated. She thinks that she got so hyped up for it that she jinxed it, and made a fool of herself while doing so. Her mahogany eyes sweep around Seventh Heaven, how empty it is – business is slow, painfully slow – and saunters to the entrance, looking through the dirty glass door. The sun is bright and the weather is perfect, if he were here –

Wait, not even go there.

Her thoughts drift to Marlene and Denzel, outside playing some games. As quick as she can, she flips the 'open' sign to 'closed' and with the biggest smile she has (without looking like a total idiot). She shouts at the top of her lungs.

"Denzel, Marlene – lets go to the beach!"

(And she will redeem herself.)

[3] He finally comes home.

When he comes home it was just past midnight. He knew something was unusual the moment he stepped off of fenrir. The light in the entrance of the bar was off and it wasn't even 3 AM yet, figuring that Tifa closed early; he proceeded to inaudibly walk upstairs to check on them. It has been a ritual, a sense of relief to find them safely tucked away in their beds. He reaches Tifa's room, gently and silently opening the wooden door, sticking his head in the narrow path. His breath hitched when he saw the perfectly made bed, unexpectedly finding himself in a state of panic, he ran towards the kids' room opening the door abrasively. Only to find the double twin beds donning the same perfectly made bed in Tifa's room. Running an agitated hand though his blonde locks he briskly walks to Marlene's dresser, looking to find any clue, he stops himself when he looks at the mirror. He takes a moment to look at himself; his golden mane was dull and limp, his skin was a sickly pale, his lips chapped and jagged and his eyes – his (oh so beautiful, beautiful, blue) eyes – were lifeless and faded.

Who was this?

(It's a monster, it's you)

[4] And he finally feels.

An hour and a half later they appear, Marlene and Denzel are laughing while Tifa softly scolds them to be quiet. She reprimands them to wash their hands and feet and go straight bed; he hears and feels the easy-going smile at the end of the sentence.

He made himself scarce; so the kids don't see him, he hides in deepest shadows of the bar, only appearing again when he sees her. His breath catches when he sees her appearance – she is beautiful (so very, very beautiful) – her hair is smooth and is tied in a very messy bun, her skin is lightly tanned, her lips are smooth and red (oh so red, red, red) and her eyes are a lovely maroon. She realizes his intent gaze and smiles – a real one – but before she can say anything, his somber voice speaks, "You forgot to call."

Swiftly her smile disappears and is replaced with a frown, and he thinks that he hates that frown – absolutely loathes it. "So I did," and her voice doesn't tremble like it normally does, and he likes that it doesn't.

The atmosphere is thick and tense, and he feels unbearably uncomfortable. Like something is tearing away at his chest, cording it with its dirty, filthy hands. Before he can muster anything to say, her soothing alto voice breaks the silence, "Why did you run away –" her voice hesitates, "– again?"

He is lost for words, mumbling incoherent sentences. Her gaze looks right into him, his soul – his oh so empty soul – and he is unprepared for what she is about to say next. "I'm trying, you know," her voice is barely there but it is firm and strong and she isn't wavering. Her striking maroon eyes start to falter and they look down, he unconsciously releases a breath he didn't know he was holding, and the air speaks what she is trying to say.

But you're too far away to reach.

Precipitously he is taken with the feeling of wanting to hold her, and tell her he's here now and he's never going again. But that would be lying, and she hates liars more than she hates Sephiroth. Her hands turn into fists and she is brought with a new resolve.

She takes a breath, "Listen. I'm not trying to stop caring about you, and I'm not trying to forget about the past –" her eyes glassy from new forming tears, "– instead I'm going to move on. Going forward, I don't want to be stuck here trying to help you when you obviously don't want it, I'm moving forward, with or without you."

And as she said those last few words, his heart started beating erratically.

Who was this?

Is this the same Tifa that he grew up with?

This was the same Tifa – while he wallowed in the midst of his guilt she grew up, and although she may have not realized it yet, she already moved on, without him. For the first time he felt it. He felt hurt; that his closest friend left him alone.

Before he could stop himself, he felt his voice speak. "You already did."

And she seemed to have read his mind. Her eyes suddenly become soft and gentle, walking forward slightly, she touched his arm and her lips curved upward to form a smile –

– A sad, sad, sad smile.

"And you won't let me."

(And he wishes he could redeem himself)

[5] And they are slowly drifting apart.

It has been months since their last escapade, and he doesn't hear from her until today when Barret comes and take the children for the weekend. Barret aggressively asks him why she isn't here, he of course is speechless and Marlene takes her turn to speak, "She's out on a date!" she gushes profoundly. Denzel, on the other hand smacks his hand on her mouth, shouting like no tomorrow, "It's a secret Marlene!" And it takes a while for his head to clearly wrap around on the idea.

She's out on a date.

She.

Is.

Out.

On.

Date.

(And he wishes Marlene kept her mouth shut.)

[6] And she moves on.

The years passed by so quickly, so much that right now he didn't know what he was doing. He was here in a chapel wearing a suit, putting on this small smile. Abruptly he is brought back to reality, he is here in a wedding.

Who's wedding?

His blue eyes searched around the fancy flowers and ribbons and hairdos, his eyes focused on one thing and one thing only.

Tifa.

She was walking slowly down the aisle with her arm looped around Barret, she was wearing a gorgeous lace-bodice crème white wedding dress. And the revelation hit him, it was her wedding. Hers. Suddenly his memory comes blurring back and he realizes that after she went on a few dates with this guy, this guy proposed and then bam, he's here – as the best man. As she walks to the front with her head held high and a shining bright smile, she holds his gaze and time stops, just the two of them. Her eyes suddenly fumble and her smile is lost.

And he understands what she is feeling, that somewhere along the lines he let go of her.

(And he hates that he did.)

[7] What ifs.

He walks into her cozy little home, and sees her silhouette. He smiles at her and her at him, and they are left with comfortable silence. He jolts back to reality when she suddenly yelps in pain and rubs her bloated belly in reassurance, he is left at shock and looks at her eyes. She is wary but okay, she motions for him over by her chair and points him to kneel down and touch her stomach. He kneels hesitantly and for a moment his thoughts wander to what ifs.

If he moved on.

If he loved her ( and he thinks bitterly that he does.)

If he just stopped wallowing in guilt.

(And he hates – absolutely disgusts – that he still does.)

A/N: The ending is rushed… I know. But it's my take on what happened after FFVII and/or ACC slash AC. There are some symbols of differences here, it's a bit subtle but it's there. To me Tifa is strong and independent she will not continuously be with cloud if it hurts, that is just stupid. So all in all – this is just a story of how they came to end, and how Cloud let it end.