At The Edge of Oblivion
It was snowing—no big surprise there—as Yuffie made her way back to the cabin. Outside, it was cold and dark, the only real light being that single, shining beacon in the tower above the watchman's own house. Inside, a warm fire and a cozy bed beckoned to her.
"Hey honey, I'm home!" she joked, shaking off her boots at the door and shrugging out of the heavy parka. She didn't dare remove her long-necked sweater, and even kept her gloves on for the time being.
The door slammed behind her with little to no effort; the winds were picking up, and Cid had gone and returned hours ago, gathering what wood he could find so that they would keep warm through the night. It would be the four of them together this time—Cid and Vincent shared the room opposite the kitchenette, and Yuffie shared hers with Tifa. They each had their own bathroom, and... gods, but the layout was odd.
Not a peep out of the figure lying across the room. Tifa was tucked safely beneath her blankets, all bundled up like some... sad snowbunny. It was no wonder, really. They hadn't stopped, not since that night in the Forgotten City.
It was hard to forget, the way that Cloud had looked up on that altar, holding the honey-haired girl. But Yuffie hadn't been looking at him, no. Her eyes had been riveted to Tifa's expression, something so achingly indescribable that it hurt—it really hurt to look at her.
Yet she had been unable to tear her eyes away.
If anyone had known the Cetra, really known her, it was Tifa. Sure, Cloud might have liked her, but Aeris had been full of secrets. Yuffie had been jealous on more than one occasion, to see them standing off in the corner or to the side, talking amongst themselves like there was no one else around. Those girls were close, and Yuffie had envied that. Hell, she thought, staring at the door which separated the two rooms. She was probably not the only one.
But Tifa had known Cloud for ages, or so it would seem. She had been there, ready to bear the brunt of his burden, ready to soothe and calm in that way she did only with him. If it were Yuffie herself, or Nanaki, or Cid, Tifa might have told them to be strong, to keep their chins held high and plunge right through. If it were Vincent, or Barret... well, that was the thing about Tifa. She seemed to know what everyone needed to hear, and at the right time.
Yes, she and Aeris would have made quite the team. Almost counter-active, at times, but always in the right doses.
But Cloud, he had pushed it all down—way, deep down inside of him—after that night. He had looked so distraught when he'd walked away from that lake, and Tifa had been a faithful shadow, up until the time he disappeared, gone off to his bed to sleep it off and hopefully wake up sane and sound the next morning. But when the next morning came, it was like he was a completely different person.
None of them had really gotten the chance, the time, to mourn after that. They had just plowed on, and Tifa had done the dutiful thing and supported him. But Yuffie could see, she was aching on the inside. She hadn't slept, hadn't eaten in days. The climb was beginning to take a toll on her, even being the experienced guide that she was, and no one else seemed to notice these things; Yuffie was, after all, the one who shared her room.
The ninja girl set the small box she'd brought in with her on the nearby wooden table. "I brought back a radio," she said, not really bothering to even plug it in. "We can get the weather reports for Icicle Inn—they get all their snow from up here anyways. Not like they care about what's going on in the middle of nowhere..."
Tifa made no move to show that she'd heard her, or that she cared. Truthfully, Yuffie didn't care much about the radio, either; it had been all but shoved into her hands by the watchman's wife, but did it really matter how the weather was? No, not really. They would be pressing onward anyway.
It was at that precise moment that Yuffie heard a door slam, followed by loud chanting and a familiar twang. She rushed to the window, spotting Cid trudging through the snow towards the house, his arms wrapped about himself as he shouted into the night.
"I wanna be an airborne ranger! Live a life of sex and danger! Blood, guts, sex and danger! That's the life of—"
"Cid!" Yuffie yelled, swinging the door open with an out-of-control bang. "Cid!"
He stopped in his steps then, a lone figure against a blanket of white. Her voice was nearly lost in the wind, but she waved her arms at him, telling him to return. "Whatcha want, kid?" he shouted, also nearly lost amid the mountain howls.
"Cid, I already checked in with the others! Got a radio if you want it!"
The pilot glanced at the house ahead, then strode back toward the cabin, his tune changing on cue with the change of direction. "They say that in the ShinRa, the coffee's mighty fine! It looks like muddy water and tastes like turpentine! Whoa, I wanna go! But they won't let me go—home!"
Yuffie shook her head, reaching for the radio and holding it out as some kind of offering. Cid took it with a goofy grin, then swiftly turned on his heel and marched next door, his tone-deaf rantings changing key as he launched into another verse.
"They say that in the ShinRa, the pay is mighty fine! They give you a hundred gil and take back ninety-nine! Whoa, I wanna go! But they won't let me go—"
Yuffie shut the door and leaned against it, hearing a muffled baritone break into the song with something that sounded a lot like a "Would you knock that off?" to which Cid responded with a more-distinct, gruff, "I'll sing whatever I godsdamned please, 'specially if it helps keep warm." A quiet mumble answered, followed by a "Fuck you," and then all was silent.
Her shoulders slumped, eyes rolling as she pushed away from the woodwork and walked towards the center of the room. Tifa lay seemingly still beneath the blankets, but every now and then she would hear a rustle and knew that the girl wasn't asleep. She kicked off her boots and padded over to the occupied bed, hopping up and standing straight, towering over the martial artist.
"Don't say hi or nothin'," she teased, plastering a big, fake grin on her face. She shifted her weight on the mattress, back and forth in some spur-of-the-moment rhythm, but she got no response. Yuffie frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, giving her sad roommate a once-over. "Hey, I know," she smirked. "Let's play a game."
"No thanks," came the muted reply.
Well, at least that was something. Yuffie began to bounce on the mattress excitedly. "Come on," she said. "I'll go get the guys. It'll take your mind off of—"
"I don't want to take my mind off of it!"
Yuffie reeled back as Tifa sat upright in the bed, and she scrambled down to her knees to keep from falling onto the floor. She blinked, surprised by the sudden and uncharacteristic outburst. "You—"
Tifa's face was contorted in some mixture of pain and anger, and there was a pressure behind her tired eyes. Russet irises were sunken in, shielded by unkempt tangles of messy brown hair. Her skin was pale, no color from even the wind—just a dull, blank canvas. Oh, this had been wearing on her for far too long.
"I was just trying to help," Yuffie offered.
"I don't want help!" Tifa half-shouted, half-begged. "I just want to rest! We haven't stopped in three days, Yuffie. Three days!" Her pitch rose higher as she cried, and Yuffie was beginning to think she might witness a reality-snap. "I don't want to play a game!" she continued. "Does it seem like a good time to play a game?"
Good point, she thought. On the other hand, this was the most she'd seen out of her friend during those past few days, the only thing that wasn't practiced and mechanical. Hell, even her fighting spark seemed to have dwindled. But...
She was angry now. And maybe this was a good thing.
"Then why don't you talk to Cloud!" Yuffie heard herself shout back. Tifa went silent then, but her expression was changing again, from stress and struggle to something more like a dangerous rage. She tried her best to ignore it—Tifa wouldn't really beat her into a bloody pulp, would she? "You look terrible!" she braved on. "You feel terrible. And we're stuck here in the middle of nowhere, and you haven't slept or eaten. You're going to get sick, Tifa. And does he give a damn? Has he asked you how you are doing?" Yuffie paused for effect, and saw that Tifa's eyes only narrowed. She swallowed hard. "No. He hasn't."
"You don't have to tell me that, Yuffie." Her voice was dangerously low as she spat the girl's name.
Yuffie slammed her open palms down on the sheets, tempted aside from fight-or-flight to rip them up out of frustration. "Then why don't you tell him to slow down?"
Tifa rose up on her knees then, gesturing wildly to the windows as she screamed. "Because we don't have the time!"
"'Ey-!"
Time seemed to stand still as the two girls froze in their face-off, Cid's angry banging bouncing off the walls and ceiling. His muffled voice came through the woodwork just loud enough to invoke some sort of fear in the Wutaian, but Tifa remained unflinching.
"Keep it down over there!"
Yuffie's eyes flitted nervously from the wall to the girl in front of her. Her heart beat wildly in her chest as she saw Tifa's fists clenching and unclenching. Carefully, she tried the words. "...I'd never make it, if we lost you, too."
Tifa inhaled sharply at the soft plea from the girl. Her face relaxed from the angry scowl it was to a wary look of warning. "Yuffie..."
"I'm scared, too. And you're the only one who talks to me, and the only one who watches my back. We all need you, Tifa, but I really do. And I hate to see you like this. But if you're gonna help yourself, you need to talk to Cloud. Because you're the only one he listens to."
Bang-bang-bang-! "Hey!"
Yuffie jerked in place. Tifa threw the covers off and stalked over to the door, slamming it behind her. There was a muffled shout, and another loud bang, and then something crashed down onto the floor. Yuffie rushed to the window, just in time to see Tifa retreating from the neighboring room. She almost swore she heard a low chuckle, but it escaped her full attention with her heart pounding in her ears like it was.
A cold rush of wind followed Tifa into the room, and she pushed the suddenly wind-heavy door shut with her weight, falling back against it. Yuffie stood silently, unmoving from her spot only a few feet away. And that was when she noticed the tears welling up in her friend's eyes.
"...Tifa?"
The martial artist let out a shuddering sigh, her shaking hand grasping the knob as she stared up at the ceiling. "I just want to be the weak one for a second," she said quietly. "When... when is it my turn? I need—"
Yuffie took a cautious step forward, and then another. Soon, she had Tifa wrapped in her arms and leaning on her for support, clutching at her sweater with her face buried. "Shh," she soothed, smoothing the girl's hair down. "It's all right."
"Sometimes I just want to curl up and forget," she sniffed. "But I'm supposed to be the strong one, right? It's not even for them, always. It's—"
The ninja felt the warmth spread through her shoulder—and her chest—as the older girl continued to cry, shuddering against her like a frightened animal, her weight surprisingly heavier than she had guessed. Her head surprisingly warmer, underneath all that hair.
"It's just so hard to admit."
Tifa held on tightly and stepped into her then, and Yuffie just held her. The room was silent, not even a crackle of flame from the fireplace or a howl from outside the cabin. And she resolved not to let go, not for as long as her friend needed it.
"I'm cold."
Yuffie smiled against Tifa's neck as she began to disentangle herself. Her scalp was warm—and sweet-smelling—but gods, her hands were like ice. "Here," she said, leading her back to bed. "You should rest up while you can."
Tifa snorted, somewhere between rue and humor. "That's what I tried to tell you," she said, climbing back underneath the covers.
"Well, I knew you needed to vent." Yuffie didn't bother to ask, simply climbed in next to her, wrapping her arms back around her, rubbing her arms reassuringly. "Yes," she declared, rather matter-of-factly, "I think a good yell was just what the doctor ordered."
"You're so full of yourself," came the muffled reply. But Tifa didn't ask questions, only turned around in the too-small bed and snuggled in beneath the younger girl's chin. Yuffie readjusted her arms, grateful when Tifa scooted further down on the mattress, the older being the taller of the two.
She smiled to herself. "...And don't you forget it."
The sunlight wasn't quite so harsh when the ninja awoke the next morning, filtering in through snowy panes as it was. The flakes were slowly melting, and the rays cast a funny glow on the room, refracted by the strange and out-of-place mirror on the wall with its cracked painted edges. She shifted on the bed, noting that she had awoken on her back, and that she was not alone.
Ah, right. She had not remained awake long enough to return to her own corner of the room.
Tifa had sunk down into the covers during the night, one hand curled to her chest and the other draped over Yuffie herself. Her head rested half-upon the girl's meager chest, and her breathing was still steady and deep, her body moving gently against the ninja's side with the movement, and her head rising and falling with Yuffie's own breaths. The young girl reached down and gently brushed the hair away from the fighter's face, tucking it back behind her ear.
Her fingers lingered in the wayward strands for just a moment longer, until Tifa's eyes fluttered open. Yuffie's hand jerked back in one smooth, practiced motion, and then it was hidden at her side beneath blankets. "...Morning."
The older girl took a few second's look around the room, and then she relaxed back against the pillows, carefully disentangling her leg from Yuffie's. She inhaled deeply the scent of the new day—the cold mountain air, the pinewood interior of their humble room. Yuffie tried not to notice the way her eyelids fluttered when she did this.
"Feel any better?"
Tifa breathed in again and held it, as if she were contemplating. "You know," she finally said, sighing against the pillow, "I think I am. Thanks for staying, Yuffie." The look she turned on her then was meaningful, and it did funny things to the young girl. But then she was getting up, and suddenly the chill air of the room hit Yuffie like a runaway sail flapping in the wind. "I'm going to wash up. Then maybe—"
A loud shot rang out from the front of the cabin, and the girls nearly tumbled over each other as they hopped up and rushed to the yard. Yuffie swung the front door open, and was thrown into the snow as Tifa landed against her backside, unable to stop herself in time. The ninja jumped to her feet, dusting herself of the snow on her hands and knees before bringing her arms around to hold herself. Her head lifted in time to catch the sight of Vincent in the distance, picking something up from the ground, rifle in hand.
"...Maybe I'll get a little creative in the kitchen," Tifa finished. Yuffie laughed in delight, and turned to follow Tifa back into the cabin.
A minute later, there was a knock on the door.
"Come in!" Yuffie called. The door swung open then to reveal Vincent's patented smirk, his eyes aglow with satisfaction. She noted the young hare hanging limply from his claw. Oh, he was very pleased with himself.
"Breakfast," he said, simply.
Yuffie shifted on the mattress and stopped fiddling with her brush and pack to shoot him a smile, grateful for the break in routine. "Tifa's washing up, but I know she'll be glad to fix it when she's done. Although, you might want to prepare that first." She wrinkled her nose at the bloodied creature, its head and body swinging helplessly from its broken neck.
"I had planned on it."
His eyes then wandered over the bed, noting Tifa's things lying at its foot and Yuffie happily sprawled atop the rumpled sheets. He also noted that Yuffie's bed remained undisturbed, and that the majority of her belongings were still sitting on top of the comforter. Even if she had made the bed—which wasn't really true to her character—he found it odd that she should be lounging in Tifa's.
He shot her a curious expression, his dark eyebrow arching with the unspoken question.
Yuffie caught his eye's wanderings, and willed away the pitter-patter in her chest. "She was upset," she answered, shrugging unconvincingly.
"She is better now, then?"
The ninja ran a hand through her choppy morning 'do. "That's what she told me, when she woke up."
His mouth quirked a little, quickly growing into a grin as he turned to go, and her eyes narrowed at him.
"Shut up."
An angry shout from the kitchenette interrupted him, and Vincent yanked open the door which separated their rooms from the efficiencies.
"What's a man gotta do t' get a decent plate of fried steak in th' mornin'?"
"I think," Vincent said, his eyes crinkling as he leaned against the woodwork, "our country boy has grown tired of the rations."
"I'll show you what!" came the gruff reply. "I've had enough of that shit to last me a lifetime! Fuckin' Jodies..."
They both winced at the crashing sound that followed. Vincent was looking wide-eyed and aghast at some mess in the next room, and Yuffie really didn't want to know what could make Vincent look that way.
"They say that in the ShinRa, the chow is mighty fine! A biscuit rolled off the table and killed a friend o' mine!"
"Cid," Vincent said, calmly. Yuffie waited as the noise subsided, and then he held up the hare.
"'Bout fuckin' time! Damn near starvin' in this place, I tell ya. And—!"
Vincent stiffly palmed the door, and it fell steadily shut, the captain's words fading into the background. This earned him a giggle from the ninja, who hugged her knees to her chest and smiled back at him. "I think," he said, "that I will go take care of this outside." And with a brusque turn on his heel, he was out the front door.
Tifa emerged from the bathroom in thermal pants and sleeves, toweling her hair off as she walked to the bed and perched herself next to Yuffie. She bent over and rummaged around on the floor for her pack, hoisting it up and searching through it for the clothes she had bundled away. "I heard noises next-door," she said. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," Yuffie replied, smiling. "I think Cid had himself a bit of a fit. Vince's outside, skinning a rabbit."
Tifa smiled. "That'll be nice. Comb my hair?"
Yuffie blinked, looking up from her pack at the proffered comb. "Um... what?"
"Would you mind combing through my hair?" she said. "There's a lot of it, and it's such a chore to do by myself sometimes."
"O—okay." Yuffie accepted the comb, and Tifa turned around on the bed, crossing her legs beneath her as Yuffie took the ends of her hair in hand and began to work her way through them. It sure was a nice smell...
Tifa sighed. "Yuffie," she said, her shoulders relaxing as she stared at the ceiling. "Thank you... for being you."
Yuffie paused when she caught a snag, inspecting it with her eyes and fingers instead of ripping the comb through. "Um, thanks. I guess." She thought it was a compliment, but something told her she'd gotten a reputation for being irritating. "You're not mad at me? For what I said?"
It was worse than she thought it might be, waiting those few seconds. "...No."
"You'll talk to him, then?" Don't push it, stupid...
Tifa bit her lip. "If you'll come with me."
The grin that the ninja wore was unmatched in its brilliance. "It's a deal," she said happily, returning to her task.
"Maybe when we're done, with... saving the world and all," Tifa said thoughtfully, a smile growing on her face, "we can hang out more often. Like this, just the two of us. It's nice, don't you think?"
The ninja smiled. Yes, they would make it through—there were eight of them, and only one of him for the gods' sakes. There would be plenty of chances for late nights and girl-talks and just sitting up in the morning, enjoying the simple stillness. Yes, even Yuffie could enjoy stillness too, once in a while. Especially when she had something in her hands to busy herself with.
"Yeah," she said. "I'd like that."
End
Final Fantasy VII and its characters © 1997 Square-Enix Co., Ltd.