She's on her knees, hands together, praying. Praying for a miracle.
But that's useless. A miracle won't come just because she asks for one. A miracle must be made, out of blood and tears.
Tifa is determined to make such a miracle, even if she must give her life for it. Because this is the cause she swore her life to, after all.
And she's expendable, after all.
She tries not to feel resentment towards him or Aerith. The promise they made was only a naive dream between children who knew nothing of the world. She shouldn't have expected him to be as bound to it as she still is. She shouldn't - can't - fault him for choosing Aerith.
And she isn't doing this for him, she tells herself harshly. She's not doing this for anyone but herself, and for the future of the world. So that her friends - no, her family - can live in a safer, better, happier world.
Cloud just happens to be included.
Tifa glances tersely at the silver-haired demon sporting a too-long and far too-deadly sword and a vicious smirk, and then she spares a worried look at the blond-haired, blue-eyed man, so strange and yet so familiar to her, who is groaning and convulsing on the ground, struggling to battle Sephiroth's control over his mind and his actions. But Sephiroth is growing impatient, Tifa can tell, and she knows his fingers are itching to take Aerith's life into his own hands soon.
Like hell will she let that happen.
Cloud will be shocked, she reasons, and Aerith too, and hopefully Sephiroth - enough, at least, to give everyone else a chance to defeat him. And she only wishes she had the chance to say goodbye to Barret and Marlene and Yuffie and Vincent and Cid and Red.
Marlene...Tifa will miss her immensely, to be sure, and she almost smiles at the thought of Barret trying to explain her death to the little girl.
They'll all be sad, she knows, Cloud included, but it'll pass in due time. And at least he and Aerith will be able to comfort each other.
She turns and memorizes Yuffie's energy, Barret's strength, Vincent's loyalty, and Cid's explicit humor. Then she turns back and imprints Aerith's innocence and Cloud's silent friendship in her mind.
A final deep breath.
And then -
"Stop!"
Her friends and comrades burst out from behind and flank her. Sephiroth's eyes widen minutely at the interruption and Tifa can pinpoint the exact moment that he decides to kill Aerith.
She dives.
Her hands shove Aerith with bruising force, her momentum helping to push the girl as far as possible.
"No!" Barret roars but it's too late.
Tifa feels Sephiroth's sword slice across her back as she falls to the ground. She hears a growl and doesn't have time to move before the blade enters her back at an excruciating angle, runs through her lung and ribs, and exits out her other side.
She coughs blood but she is numb, only dimly aware of a freezing burn coursing through her slumped body and the anguished cries of her friends.
She doesn't hear his voice.
Summoning all of her energy, she redirects her eyes and finds his, wide and glowing blue. He's on his knees, his sword by his side, and he stares at her in wordless shock.
Always speechless, she thinks in some sort of morbid amusement. She knows she's dying; she knows she can't be saved, but she doesn't regret it.
They all love her, but they don't need her, not the way she needs them. So they'll be okay. And she'll always be watching from the Lifestream.
"Be...hap...py..." she mouths with the very last of her energy, and she must be delirious or hallucinating because there's a tear in his eye. But there's no time to know for sure because she's so tired and sleep, a deep and heavy sleep is calling her.
If any of her precious friends require her help in the future, she'll simply extend a ghostly hand from the Lifestream. But she hopes to simply watch them all grow old and live long and happy lives before joining her.
She smiles at the thought, then shuts her eyes and slips away.
A/N: OMG it's been so long! I've been reading stuff but I haven't written fanfic in soooo long! It's nice to be back. :D
I've never written anything for FFVII or CloTi before, despite how much and how long I have loved the game and this OTP. So here's my first! The obligatory if-Tifa-had-died-instead fic. Yay?
Sorry it's so short. There is one more chapter! But it's even shorter. Eheh.
Enjoy! I hope my writing hasn't gotten too rusty (though I know it has).
Write on. Read on. That's my motto.
© Copyright 2015 by The Siege