Flames filled her dreams, the heat becoming more and more intense... With a gasp Tifa's eyes flew open to stare at the wooden ceiling above her. The heat from the flames did not dissipate; the room was sweltering and dark. She sat up awkwardly, uncomfortable in her sweat-stained sheets and nightwear. She felt trapped, constricted. She flung the blankets from the bed, the lack of covering doing little to reduce her discomfort. The very air itself seemed to boil.
She glanced round, horribly aware now of what she would find. Sure enough the air-conditioning unit sat inert and quiet; that tiny LED light indicating its operation completely dark. She knew it was useless but she still flipped the switch to see if it would come back to life and save her from the heat. Nothing. The light-switch likewise was useless. A power failure? Tifa crossed to the window, pulling the curtains back and opening the window. Bad move. The air refused to move. Opening the window now flooded the room with distant echoes from the slums as they bounced off the underside of the upper plates, the dull rumbling from high above of vehicles moving throughout the night and the stench of Mako processing. Sector Seven was dark. There was still some light to see from between the upper plates and from the other sectors. She could just about see the blaze of lights that marked out the more infamous territory of Wall Market in Sector Six - a place Barret was forever advising her to never go.
She left the window open and slunk back to her bed, hoping desperately that there might be a gust of window, some gentle breeze to shift the air even slightly... Nothing. The window barely altered the temperature and only brought with it the distant noise of activity. A thought struck her and she dug through her shelves looking for the tiny battery-powered fan forced upon her earlier by Barret. She'd politely and smilingly declined his offer to change rooms for the summer - she couldn't displace her closest friend and his daughter for her own comfort - it was enough he allowed her to stay here. She'd laughed off terrible tales of the torturous summers in the Midgar slums - the nights when the heat would not leave you and you couldn't sleep, couldn't concentrate; just lay and fidgeted as you waited hoping desperately for sleep to grudgingly take you as the hive of activity within the city seemed to make sleep an impossibility.
She'd be fine, she'd insisted. They had air-conditioning in the top room and she'd waved away concerns of how she'd cope if the power should fail one day. Tifa had been in Midgar close to a year now, missing the end of summer before she awoke from her injuries and was mobile again. At that time, the constant heat of Midgar had seemed tolerable contrasted to the freezing winters and cold nights of Nibelheim. Midgar maintained a muggy temperature throughout the year. Even in the deep winter, the temperature would only dip slightly. She had no love for the city and its builders, but she could continue to exist here.
As summer approached, she made increasing use of the air-conditioner; days under the plate increasingly sweltering and tiresome. Nerves frayed and harsh words were exchanged until they could relax in the pleasant coolness of their home. Now this. The power-line or the reactor must have failed. It was nothing new; power was inconsistent at best in the city, and as far as she understood from Jessie there was no redundancy or power-sharing; if one reactor went down that sector went without until it was brought back up again. Madness was the other girl's opinion. Linking the power-lines into a grid that spanned the city would have been trivial and allow a failed sector to draw from its neighbours.
But no, all sectors were treated individually and each paid the same rate - despite the radically different nature of each. Not for the first time Tifa cast her eyes upwards, envious of those exposed to the open air. They would be hot too, but somehow she suspected their power might not be as gone as hers. She turned the tiny fan on, appreciating the tiny cone of moving air it projected. But where best to direct it? It felt good against her face, but she became uncomfortably aware of how hot her torso felt. And then her legs just seemed mired in fire... She'd be turning the fan all night just to try and be a little cooler. Maybe slightly further away? She leant out and placed it on a shelf, directed right at her and laid back. Now she couldn't even feel a vague sensation of motion.
It was no good. Frustrated, Tifa pushed herself out of bed, leaving her horrible, damp sheets behind her. Her clothes clung awkwardly and annoyingly to her. She shrugged out of them, pulling on a clean top and shorts. That felt better, but she was still far too warm. A brain wave hit her, and pulling on all her skill, she crept as noiselessly as possible from her room and down to the first floor and the bathroom. The stairs barely creaked under her footsteps, and the temperature reduction of even descending one floor was simply delicious. How wonderful it would be to spend the night down here.
Yeah, down here in a stairwell, where Barret or Marlene would find her and insist she trade with them. The father and daughter had once shared the upper room an earlier summer before Jessie, Biggs and Wedge moved out to their own place, and after tonight she didn't feel she could put them through that again. Safely within the bathroom, she soaked her top in lukewarm water, wincing at the clanging and banging of the old plumbing. She hoped she'd not disturbed them... She turned the water off as quickly as possible, squeezed as much water as she could from the top and then pulled it back on.
The damp cloth felt gorgeous against her skin, and she sighed contentedly, before creeping quietly away again. Maybe this would be okay; her sheets were already damp; any additional water from her top would not make much difference. The heat descended in sheets as she ascended the stairs again, pausing outside her door. Already the temperature was making her gasp; her trick with dampening her shirt felt more like absurd, misguided desperation then a real plan to cool herself down. No. She had to try and sleep, or tomorrow would be hellish as she tried to negotiate the world on a frazzled brain. With a deep breath, she pushed open the door and re-entered her room.
Somehow it was even worse in here, the heat waiting for her, coiling and endlessly building up temperature in this enclosed space. Not here. Not like this. She felt for the bed a moment, hands finding the drying sweat stains becoming abrasive...
Maybe lower?
She pulled a spare sheet from the cupboard, mentally noting she had to wash the other sheets in the morning and crept again down the stairs. She paused, listening for any movement on the landing, and hearing none crept down again to the Seventh Heaven itself. The temperature difference almost made her shiver, which was laughable as according to the thermometer the temperature was still absurdly high. But just in contrast to above... wonderful. But where could she sleep? There were no padded seats in the bar, just hard wooden chairs, the wooden floor. Nothing she could arrange into a make-shift bed either. She sighed, frustrated - considering just leaning against the bar and trying to doze off like that... Tempting, but surely... In the gloom, she noticed the trapdoor that lead down to the basement. They'd not had much use for it previously, just storing odds and ends, boxes and... clothes!
The hatch gave an ear-splitting screech that made her wince, but the dark below was inviting. She felt behind the bar for the flashlight, and slowly descended. It was cooler still down here, all the hot air flooding the heat up high above her. The room was little bigger then the bar above her, but more then big enough to lie down in. She attacked boxes with gusto, turning up a selection of clothes - an odd mixture of Barret, Marlene and the trio's. She spread them into a rough bed shape, plumping up more to form a pillow of sorts, and laid back in the cool. It felt almost too cold as she drew her blanket around her, feeling the dizzy fingers of sleep pull at her, reminding herself she had to be up and out of here before Barret or Marlene learned where she'd been sleeping. She would have to remember this for future summer nights without power...