One Degree
They say everyone in the world is connected through six degrees of separation.
For AVALANCHE and the Turks, it's one.
Tifa and Aeris
Wine Colored Flowers
The lights flashed, signs blinked, and the roar of the city twined around the young girl who was quickly losing herself to the neon and halogen glamour. Wine eyes were wide and unblinking, trying to soak in the sights around her, barely daring to blink for fear of losing it all. People walked around her, though never touching – that was Midgar, she'd heard it said. All crowds and crowds of people who never touched, as if the coldness of the city forbade such contact with a stranger. But Tifa stared at this city, and wondered how anyone could say Midgar was cold. The warmth flashed and burned around her, lights winking down at Tifa as her seven-year old mind rushed to process it all.
And just like that, Tifa Lockhart lost her parents. In one moment, they were clutching at her hand protectively, and in the next she was being jostled by the crowd, hand cold in the absence of a squeezing hand. Tifa cried out, but the crowd took no notice, and merely parted around the girl like a small rock in a mountain stream. But a greater clump of people came and moved her with the crowd, and the little girl tripped and stumbled and screamed for her parents who couldn't hear her.
The delightful roar of the city was now the roar of a lion, shuddering her bones and making tears well in her eyes. They would never find her! Midgar was huge. How would they find her, at her height, among the cold blacks and grays and charcoals of the business suits and the large, unforgiving buildings that stretched so high, as if attempting to block the sun, as if trying to stretch higher than the stars.
Just like that, Tifa Lockhart was in the darker part of town.
How it had happened, she wasn't sure. But the crowds had dispersed, leaving a more meager trickling of people. She stumbled about until she was where she was now, the city threatening to swallow her in its gaping mouth. Tears spilled down her face until she wiped at them with an arm. She was tough. She was strong.
"Flowers!" a voice that seemed scarely older than Tifa's own called. "Flowers!"
And through the chunks of people who walked around here, Tifa's eyes locked on one figure that stood against the greys and blacks of the city – a small figure clad in a pink dress was holding a basket of bright, beautiful flowers. Tifa started to automatically gravitate towards the girl, until a sleazy looking figure sauntered up to the flower girl.
"Hello cutie, are you lost?" Tifa could hear the man say.
THUMP.
The man was promptly smacked on the head with a rod of sorts. "You little bitch-" he lunged, but something caught his attention. He looked to his left and noticeably paled. Without another word, he ran off. A different man leaned down and said something to the flower girl – this one apparently her friend – and she nodded solemnly and turned, putting the basket on her arm and setting off at a light jog towards home. The man she was talking to – not in a grey or black suit, Tifa noticed, but blue – seemed to have disappeared – and the girl didn't notice as a bundle of bright flowers fell out of her basket. Tifa stared at them, and the feet smacking the pavement grew louder and she saw them all around the flowers. Midgar was cold. They would be able to crush something so beautiful in it's stone fist, crush the colors with their blacks and charcoals, smother the flowers under the sole of their too-shiny shoes.
Tifa rushed forward and knelt, gingerly picking up the boquet and cradling them like a baby might.
"W-Wait!" she called out, and started jogging after the girl. "Wait!"
The girl didn't turn, and Tifa realized she probably couldn't hear or didn't realize she was being addressed. The flower girl had slowed to a walk at least, though quick, but Tifa picked up her pace and called out "Wait!" one more time.
People were no longer around them, only the occasional hobo curled up asleep against the wall. The girl turned, bright green orbs that were her eyes settling upon Tifa's wine ones. Tifa walked forwards, boquet of flowers extended in her delicate hand. "Here," she said lamely, "You dropped these."
The girl smiled, and even the slums seemed to brighten. "Thank you." She said, and tucked them into her little basket. Then, considering, she rifled through her basket and seemed to decide on something. Indeed, with a big nod she plucked out a flowers and stretched her arm out.
"Here. For you!" she beamed.
Tifa gently took it, eyes wide. It was the most gorgeous flower she'd seen, and had no name for it – almost like a rose but a deep red, bordering purple. The flower girl smiled. "It matches your eyes! Plus, it's a special, rare flower – I've been saving it for someone special."
Tifa stared at the flower, gently stroking the petal. "Thank you," she said almost reverently, awestruck.
The girl looked at Tifa, scrutinizing. "Are you lost?"
Tifa looked up and was about to say 'Yes' when a shout came from behind. "Tifa!" a voice bellowed. "Tifa!"
She turned and gasped. "Daddy!" she cried and ran to her father, jumping up and hugging him – though careful not to damage her flower. It was only then she realized her dad was sobbing. "Never, ever scare me like that again, promise?"
"Promise daddy."
"If you get lost go find a police man, you hear me?" he sobbed.
"Yes daddy. Where's mommy?"
Her dad put her down and tears ran down his face. "Tifa…Your mother is-"
"One second."
Her dad wiped his face and Tifa turned. "Thank you flower gir-"
But she was gone.
--
A/N: The premise of this is that all the 'main' characters of FFVII - namely AVALANCHE and the Turks - met each other at one point in their life, whether it was just a glance of the person during an otherwise significant event, or like this one, an actual meeting. This event could have happened anytime from their birth to the beginning of the FFVII story. So, as you can imagine, with 13 characters - 9 from AVALANCHE, four from the Turks - that would 156 drabbles. Maybe it'll get that far, maybe it won't. It would take a hell'uva lotta time though.
This scene had been on my mind and the next will be Tseng and Tifa - and based around this same event.