Shizukana (Quiet)

by dominusalthus

Author's Notes: Like I said, I'm slowly turning into a slob nowadays, and I can't seem to remember the password for my other (non-Bleach) account, so I'm uploading this here instead. Anyway, this idea just came out of the blue when I was waiting for the train to arrive, so… haha. This is my first fic inspired by Final Fantasy 7. Read and review!

*Events take place after Dirge of Cerberus*

I do not own FF7, but I swear, someday, I'll reach Square Enix.


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The wind hummed past his ears and the rain greedily stormed outside but the man on the flowerbed remained stationary—unmoving, seemingly lifeless. His hazy blue eyes stared upon the endless distance which he only sees, which blinded no one but him.

Aerith.

Cloud Strife called summoned her pleadingly, begging for her to manifest like she always did right before they completely got rid of Sepiroth's traces.

Aerith… Zack…

He called once more, but the emptiness of the cathedral, along with the droplets of water playing subtle tunes, answered him. Feeling defeated, he marched to Fenrir without even bothering to protect himself from the cold.

It's been three years since he last saw them—their souls, the proof that they once existed and that they walked alongside him. Not that he's still consumed by guilt or anything, but since then, even when he realized he was not alone, he knew something was missing. His response was as usual; he buried himself with workloads, travelling non-stop every day for his delivery service, and his only break is when he tries to talk to Aerith and Zack in the cathedral. He occasionally stops by 7th heaven to rest or get his new requests, or when he decides to kiss Marlene and Denzel on their foreheads while they are sleeping.

Tifa, however, is another case.

Tifa Lockhart, his childhood friend, the one who served as his light in his confusion back in the biggest battle he ever fought, his inspiration when they were little, the person who stayed with him in that fateful night beneath the Highwind… is not the Tifa he was once with anymore. IT wasn't as if she changed at all. Truth is, he knows he was the one who changed, he was the one who messed up things for them.

.

.

.

Back on the road, the engine roared against the splattering of mud from the raindrops as Cloud made his way to his next destination. A small village near Healen Lodge sprung within the horizon as he continued to move forward, but he was cautious enough not to encounter Reno or Rude—every time they see him they offer him unwanted stuff and such.

He unloaded the package from his buddy and proceeded to knock on the red door that says '50', the number that matches the address on the slip of paper. An elderly woman greeted him at the door, but her smile turned into concern as she saw how wet his clothes were.

"Oh, goodness, child. You shouldn't have gone here at this weather." The door opened even wider as she invited him inside. "Here, sit there and I'll make you a cup of tea. Better yet, get you some clothes."

Cloud wanted to stop her from doing anything for him but she disappeared in the kitchen with her package already. Without any other choice, he stood by the rag near the door and decided to at least not trouble the old woman with cleaning her floor.

When she returned, she was carrying a cup with wispy steam emerging from it and on her other hand, a pair of dry pants and shirt.

"Take this, son." Cloud obliged when she handed him the stuff. "Go change."

.

.

.

The woman's room wasn't really different to the room in 7th heaven. It was simple yet clean. The windows, would it have been a nicer weather, welcomed the sunset which is a sight to behold every afternoon. Of course, it was Tifa who took care of all those chores. It's something that Cloud could never figure out, how she does all the womanly/motherly stuff when she's working and keeping her strength as well.

He looked at the right and he felt something was off—the bed sheets seemed to be untouched for a long time or like there was a lingering feeling of loneliness in the room. Right there, a sinking feeling came to him; is this how Tifa feels when I am not around?

The mirage of Tifa lying on the bed appeared before him. The thought of her being alone in her room, without anyone to talk to for hours, days and months just bothered him so much now that he had discerned what she probably felt like.

.

.

.

"Thank you." He sincerely said, emerging from the room. "I'm sorry for troubling you."

"Not to worry, not to worry. I seldom have visitors anyway." Her hands fell limply on her sides as she sat on the rocker just across him. "I have been living alone for years now, ever since…"

Her voice trailed off, but Cloud knew what she was referring to, creating a knot on his chest. Geostigma.

"Gomenasai… I'm really sorry."

He should be, he thought. He felt like he was still directly linked with Sepiroth's genes which caused the death of so many people. The woman, on the other hand, laughed.

"Why are you making such a fuss, young man?"

She looked at the picture hanging on the east side of the house along with several paintings. Somehow, it reminded him of how Denzel and Marlene's room looked like, plus those pictures displayed in Tifa's room.

"Guilty or something? You look kind to me." She pointed to the chair on her far right. "Sit down for a while. Let the rain stop first."

He descended to the cushion that somehow comforted him but his thoughts told him otherwise. The piercing stare of the old woman as she followed his movements wasn't helping, either.

Tifa. Tifa. Tifa.

The voice inside his head reminded him over and over again of his unsettled affair.

"My husband…" The woman spoke again to interrupt his thoughts but she wasn't looking at him, but instead looking as far as she can beyond the walls of her house. "…I never felt needy of him until he went on. You know, I was quite confident that he'd always be there for me."

"…" He tried to console her but he realized he was feeling just as uneasy as she was. "Even if… your husband… even if he died, he's still be watching over you."

Like Aerith and Zack does to you. A nagging voice of his own reached him. They are dead. Gone.

"Y-yes." The woman looked surprise on Cloud's comment. "But you know what they say, you wouldn't know what a thing's worth if you haven't lost them yet. I should've taken care of him in better ways. I should've been the one who got sick."

Tifa felt that too, you just didn't acknowledge her. It said again. And now, you haven't talked to her in years.

Well, the truth is, they talk to each other every day about the family, but never addressed it as theirs. They talk when Barret, Yuffie, Reeve, and Red XIII visit them; they attended Shera and Cid's wedding, they talked about Shelke's welfare in her stay, they helped out Vincent in his battles against Omega, but through all these, they haven't once looked each other in the eyes. They haven't talked to each other just because they wanted to, and it was as if it was just coincidence that they were sometimes at the same place at the same time… which is also the same as not talking to her completely.

He seems to have lost his grip on Tifa already.

"I guess you're right." Cloud simply said, answering both his thoughts and the woman.

"That's why, you should protect yourself, too. Even simply from the rain." The woman smiled at him, he smiled back apologetically. "I'm sure people worry about you, but you should be strong to take care of those people too."

But how can he? He was as if he was a stranger to Tifa now, like a mere lodger who doesn't have anything to do with the landlord. How could he even take care of her if he even can't give her a direct glance? How could he face her with the shame that's consuming him now, now that he had an epiphany of what a douchebag he is?

"It's… not always that easy."

"You know, son, you should show how important people are to you as often as you can, because that's the only proper way you could repay them. At least, if you die now, you'll have no regrets or emptiness, or if ever they disappear tomorrow, you know you've given them your best. Don't be like me."

She looked at him meaningfully like she knew what troubles he was having. Then she looked out and pointed it out to Cloud. Only now that he had noticed that the rain had stopped.

"Better get going." She told him, but Cloud knew she had many other things to say to him.

.

.

.

He was once again on Fenrir as he drove near the Midgar wasteland. He was thinking of going to his next destination but something prevented him from doing so. His palms were sweaty, even his forehead, and there was a consistent shivering that made him restless.

Disappear. He never thought the effect of the word was too much for him. It almost meant everything he ever failed to accomplish. Aerith, Zack, his dreams back in Nibelheim, his promises, his own persona… they all faded along with the other impermanent existences in the world.

Disappear. Like what happened to that prophecy he made for himself and Tifa some nights before he got sick with Geostigma, the prophecy that he'd start a new life and that he's not afraid because she's with him. That memory of that night of promises beneath the Highwind, the memory of his love for Tifa when they were children. That Cloud. Where is that Cloud now?

Disappear. And that's probably what would happen with Tifa… and Denzel and Marlene. Just the thought of him coming home to the empty bar without them scared him enough yet it made him feel that he was indeed a human. The fear of losing someone again, that constant, frenzied beating of his heart made him aware than he was being selfish for so long now.

His numb fingers steered Fenrir the other way around, certain what he should go to first. He knew what he needed to do.

.

.

.

Tifa.

She was the first person he saw as he entered the bar. Tifa was cleaning the counter like she usually did but stopped momentarily when Cloud stepped in and hit the wind chimes.

"Cloud." She slightly smiled at the newcomer then resorted to wiping the rag on the metal slab again. "You're early today, what's up?"

Instead of answering, he marched directly towards her, not letting any moment pass as he stared intently at her.

Tifa looked up at his face with a concerned expression, but it only hit Cloud more. Only know he had noticed how wrinkled her face was, probably because of constant sadness and disappointment he gives her.

"Are you alright?" Her frown deepened even more. "Is there something bothering you?"

Cloud reached out with his hand to cross that small distance between them which he would not dare overcoming in any other day. "No… It's nothing."

His hand found hers at last. Her hands were rough from all the work she does yet the warmth rushing from her to him was plainly overwhelming. He hadn't touched her for a long time now but she was still the same—always welcoming him, always loving.

"W-what are you…" Her confused eyes came to meet his and established a connection that they have lost many times before. "What is this about?"

Cloud took another step forward, closer than he would have expected, close enough to feel her warmth radiating from her body. "I… I don't know how to say this… but…"

His other hand went up to her cheek and traced the length of her jaw. He felt her flinching slightly but he understood; the touch was probably foreign to her.

"A memory, or us? Which is it?" Tifa asked him once before and he didn't have an answer. Now, he had a decision in mind, and the only thing he has to do is tell her. But he was Cloud, he was him. After all, he wasn't really able to say what he really wanted to say to Tifa, even before. Maybe he had changed himself so much but that part of him which wanted to keep his feelings to himself, or that part of him which didn't know how to resolve things properly and communicate, will remain forever in him.

Besides, how hard could that be, for you to suddenly extend your feelings towards a person you've estranged for quite a while?

"It's you." He told her as he leant down rested his forehead against her. "It's you."

The sharp intake of breath she made sent quivers to him that made him feel so alive. In fact, only now he feels more alive, than ever. "Cloud…" She whispered, closing her eyes as she prevented herself from crying.

"I have so many things to tell you… Just how… How should I begin?"

He felt a gentle squeeze in his hand. A simple gesture yet it already made his heart jump. "I've told you before… I told you."

An image flashed in his mind—he was standing beneath the Highwind with Tifa, though he could only see her back. The breeze was cold as it blew past them, as it danced with their hair and clothes.

"Words aren't the only thing that tell people what you're thinking..."

Her words rang loud and clear in his mind, resounding to his entire persona.

Words aren't the only thing. And it was better—he was never really good at words, anyway.

"Tifa." He called her once. She opened her eyes which were almost in the verge of tears and focused back to his face. "…I wanted to tell you… it's you."

Then he removed any distance that was between them as his lips found hers.

Silence was deafening as they cherished and took in this one particular moment in their lives and remained as their sole witness. The softness of her lips, her scent, everything about her drew Cloud wanting even more. It was as if the universe and the cosmos conspired to give them this moment and quietly celebrate with them.

Cloud never felt as relieved as this as before. It's like finding himself again, finding that one in a million piece of puzzle and he wouldn't be complete unless he discovers it. When he drew away though, he saw Tifa's face was twisted with a certain kind of sadness or annoyance—he wasn't sure.

"Are you ok?" He touched where her brows gathered. "I-I'm sorry—was it so sudden?"

Tifa opened her mouth and tried to speak. When she failed, she punched Cloud in the shoulder as hard as she could. He swore if he wasn't that strong, he probably would've been blasted outside the house.

"Y-you're angry?" He could not help but gasp. What if Tifa doesn't feel the same anymore?

"You are such an idiot!" She punched him in the gut this time then buried her face in his chest. He could tell she was sobbing. "What the—took you so long, then you come in and suddenly do that? Unbelievable… you…"

Clod suddenly felt like laughing or grinning, he didn't care. He was too engrossed with the instant, and that of her rather amusing reaction. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips on her forehead.

"Well, this is strange… and funny. I'm sorry for being late."

"It's alright." She told him in her muffled voice, then she rested her cheeks in such a way that she could hear his heart beating. "Heart beats… it's not a dream, then."

"What makes you think this is?"

Cloud heard her chuckle a little. "I don't know… I didn't think you'd just kiss me like that out of the blue. That and… Cloud… you're clothes…"

He raised his brows and stepped back a little to see her face. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

Tifa smiled despite her eyes were still slightly puffy. "They… smell."

He lost it, and finally, he laughed aloud for real. "I got this from an old woman, she probably kept this too long in her closet. I'm sorry."

"Old woman, huh. That's where you're from?" She pouted playfully. "Really? An old woman?"

"…" Cloud rolled his eyes and scratched his head. "…not… interested. Besides, I told you, it is you."

He wanted to kiss her again, but Tifa held a hand in front of his face to stop whatever his intentions were.

"Hm, Denzel and Marlene… might see or hear us." She blushed slightly. "And it's not like I'll allow you to do that again. That's abuse, you know."

"Then we'll be quiet." He rolled his eyes once more and embraced her. "Besides, they are our children, so I'm sure they'll understand."

Cloud was surprised that our children had a nice ring on it. Our family, our home, our lives. All of them sounded entirely pleasant.

"Yeah… I guess you're right. They are our children in any case." Tifa agreed and wrapped her hands in his waist in return.

The two of them stayed like this for quite some time, but this time Cloud was sure he would never lose this memory, their memory, in the very silence that once hampered them from saying what they wanted before.

Turns out words aren't really needed, after all.


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I'm sorry if this isn't good enough, as it was rushed. Haha. But I'm thinking of making another, like, in Tifa's POV, or Denzel's, just like On the Way to a Smile.

And about the confession, I kind of figured that Cloud isn't the type of person who'll say 'I love you' directly. I also had the impression that Tifa would understand it, since she practically spent more than half of her life in understanding that dense-angsty-son-of-a-something Cloud Strife. Anyway, read and review pleaaase. :D Arigatoo! :D