Author's Note: After years of loving this game, I'm finally making a fanfic. *^_^* Yay. I'm not sure where my ideas for this are coming from, they just... are. So no promises on what's going to happen, eh? All I know is that this is going to be a serious story, and I'm going to try and avoid any romance between characters, but if the story wants to go that way, it will. I'm just the medium for this to go through, really.
Well, then. Enjoy, and please review and let me know what you think so far.
The snow was falling softly outside the clouded windows of the newly furnished Seventh Heaven bar. It always did this time of the year. Cloud was having trouble getting used to it, truthfully. Most of his adult life he'd lived in the seasonless, nightless, and dayless world of the Midgar plate. To watch the snow as it fluttered down in heavy, wet dove feathers, he felt an eerie chill run up his spine. It'd been five years now, five winters he'd watched come in their white cloaks of cold beauty, only to melt away to muddy, earthy, and equally beautiful spring. Today marked the first snow of the year. Perhaps it was a stroke of good fortune he'd decided to come early than he'd needed to. He hated to think what the roads would look like in the morning if this drift decided to stay around that long.
Tifa was there, of course, rattling around behind the counter, mixing the coffee she'd offered and he'd accepted. She still had her apron tied over her white sweater and jeans, one he'd gotten her for her birthday that year. The little bar would be open for business a few hours longer, before any remaining patrons were asked to leave and the others would start arriving, breathing in clouds and relishing the warmth of the little establishment. It happened that way every year. Hugs, smiles, and greetings would go up all around, and the bar would fill with familiar voices, catching up on each otherÕs lives and reliving old memories of their adventures together. It would last deep into the night, and through the rest of the weekend. He'd smile through it all, and still feel so empty inside. He both loved and loathed the anniversary meeting. Perhaps this silent contemplation was the reason Tifa was looked at him with her head cocked to the side, eyes asking him what was on his mind.
"They'll be getting here soon," she said, breaking the uncomfortable quiet with her soft smile. "I can't wait to see everyone. I know we meet every year, but there's so much that can happen during that time."
"Mmm." Cloud acknowledged the statement with a nod, taking the cup of steaming coffee she'd placed before him and blowing the hot mist from the top. "They're all changing, but they're still the same."
"Exactly. It's kind of comforting." Tifa hopped up to sit on the counter, facing the same way he was. There was a large shelf of drinks behind the bar, with glass doors, gold shelves, and a mirror at the back. Cloud usually found himself watching his reflection as it moved with him, obscured here and there by the wine and whiskey bottles and their long throats. He could also tell that Tifa did the exact same thing, watching his reflection as well as her own as she sat there, idly swinging her feet.
"It's hard to believe it's been five years already."
Tifa nodded, dark eyes dancing as they caught her infectious smile. "I can't believe it either. It feels like it was only a little while ago. I don't think that feeling will ever fade, though. It sure was a once-in-a-lifetime experience."
"Hard to imagine that it's over." He folded his fingers in front of him, brow knitted in thought once more. "I remember how after everything had happened and the Meteor had gone, we wandered around for days, waiting for the next thing to come up. It felt wrong for it all to be over. It was so awkward letting go of it, everyone parting and going their separate ways, one by one."
"But we still see each other," she piped in. "Kind of like we have a string tied to each one of us. We can't avoid each other. It's a warm feeling, running into them on the street, and seeing them smiling and enjoying the peace. I don't know, though... Lately it's been feeling kind of... hollow."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, say, when I run into Yuffie at a Materia shop in Kalm or see Cid and Shera at the chocobo farm, even when I see Barret when he stops by after work and we talk." Tifa lifted her cup of milk-lightened coffee to her lips, eyelids falling low over burgundy eyes. "There's this sort of empty feeling inside me. I don't know whether it's an absence of our quest or just a lack of intimacy that used to be there, but I feel like something's missing. I just don't know what."
Cloud looked down at his own cup of coffee, fully aware of what her words didn't say, what she didn't seem to want to accept. As he watched the steam rise in a soft cloud of warmth, a flurry of rose petals crossed his mental vision. The sweet scent of flowers, the cool smell of makou, a spray of brown hair and beautiful green eyes. He closed his eyes, and his lips dropped a single syllable into the air.
"Her."
Tifa set her mug down a bit too harshly, causing Cloud to jerk up from his stupor. He looked over at her, watching how her hand tightened around the cup, and the other folded over itself in a self-restraining fist. She was shaking, from her arms up into her shoulders. Cloud raised a hand, thought again, and decided it wasn't right to touch her.
"Cloud... I thought we made a deal. I thought we said..."
"We wouldn't dwell on it," he gave in with a sigh. "I know, but I don't think it's something we can control any longer. Our voices made that pact, but our hearts didnÕt. We can't deny what our hearts are saying."
"And what's that?" Tifa's voice was beginning to quiver, and he knew she was on the verge of tears.
"We... We miss her, Tifa. Both of us. All of us. We miss her."
Tifa pushed herself from the bar, landing with her back still to her friend. She slowly lifted her coffee once more to her lips, then placed the empty mug in the sink. She then leaned on the counter, staring at her reflection. Cloud could see one eye sparkled with unshed tears between two bottles of white wine.
"What are you saying we should do?" she asked.
"Tonight we're going to stop ignoring the fact that she isn't here with us and she should be. Tonight we're going to talk about her, use her name, and we're not going to run away from this. We need to stop losing ourselves in our memories and start thinking about how to cope." He could see her force her eyes closed against a river of tears that begged to flow. "Tifa... We need to heal."
"I hate how you can say that."
"What do you mean?"
"You... You were the closest to her. You met her and took care of her, and she you. You were there when she..." Her words trailed off, but their implication needed no detail. "You carried her, you let her go into the darkness. You knew her the longest of all of us, and yet you're telling me to heal. You were the most hurt and I'm the one crying. Why? Why does it happen this way?"
"I don't know, Tifa." Cloud rested his head against his arms, staring down at his boots. "I envy your tears. I wish I could cry for her."
There was no trace left of anger in her fingers as Tifa cupped one of Cloud's hands in two of her own. Her thumbs rubbed his palm gently in lieu of words she couldn't seem to find.
In the morning, she began tending the flowers in the garden. From the time the light began until the time the light was beginning to fade, it was where she would be found, nursing the perfumed blooms with her blue, formless hands and watering the ground with tears void of emotion. She harnessed the way the spirit would well up within her when she knelt and murmured words in a forgotten language, then spread that power about her to every living thing that inhabited the little garden. She kept it all alive, just as its owner would have had he still lived.
Not that she was one to ponder mortality. The only proof of her still having a conscious existence was this garden and its flowers. She at times even wondered about her purpose and whether she was ever real. Many times sheÕd gone to the Stream, stood on its banks, and contemplated joining the souls who were rushing to be reborn as plants, animals, and the occasional human. SheÕd drift closer, then the visions would come. People she knew, but couldnÕt name. Two girls, four men, and two furry creaturesÉ Specifically, those eerie, blue eyes. She would step back and remember her reason for still existing.
She wanted them to see the garden.
She cupped a tigerlily, striped with pink and dotted with touches of black, and led its head up to the sunlight that poured through the glass panes that covered the roof. Her gaze followed, up to watch as crystals of snow floated down, landing and puddling upon the glass. Without the wind or moisture, of the weather outside, the small haven was safe from the cold, and stayed spring-like all year long. This was exceptionally good for the flowers, as they lived long through the seasons, and comforting for the animals whoÕd taken refuge here to wait out the cold weather. Three frogs skimmed through the pond at the center of the garden, and five rabbits made their home beneath the peach tree. Even one lone doe grazed on the grass between the rosebushes. Here, every being was at peace, especially the gardener.
Today, however, the peace would be short-lived. As soon as all the flowers were watered and a lost frog was returned to the pond, another being appeared. The animals seemed unaware, but the gardener was taken aback by the new appearance. It was another formless one, with a voice familiar and distinctly female.
"The Mother is calling for you, Little One," she said, hovering by one of the fruitless trees.
"She calls for me? But why?"
"I know not, Little One, I do not question her but only do her bidding."
"Alright then. I shall come."
With a soft shimmer not unlike sunlight through rain, the two beings vanished from the peaceful garden, leaving the animals and plants to carry on in silence.
Well, then. Enjoy, and please review and let me know what you think so far.
The snow was falling softly outside the clouded windows of the newly furnished Seventh Heaven bar. It always did this time of the year. Cloud was having trouble getting used to it, truthfully. Most of his adult life he'd lived in the seasonless, nightless, and dayless world of the Midgar plate. To watch the snow as it fluttered down in heavy, wet dove feathers, he felt an eerie chill run up his spine. It'd been five years now, five winters he'd watched come in their white cloaks of cold beauty, only to melt away to muddy, earthy, and equally beautiful spring. Today marked the first snow of the year. Perhaps it was a stroke of good fortune he'd decided to come early than he'd needed to. He hated to think what the roads would look like in the morning if this drift decided to stay around that long.
Tifa was there, of course, rattling around behind the counter, mixing the coffee she'd offered and he'd accepted. She still had her apron tied over her white sweater and jeans, one he'd gotten her for her birthday that year. The little bar would be open for business a few hours longer, before any remaining patrons were asked to leave and the others would start arriving, breathing in clouds and relishing the warmth of the little establishment. It happened that way every year. Hugs, smiles, and greetings would go up all around, and the bar would fill with familiar voices, catching up on each otherÕs lives and reliving old memories of their adventures together. It would last deep into the night, and through the rest of the weekend. He'd smile through it all, and still feel so empty inside. He both loved and loathed the anniversary meeting. Perhaps this silent contemplation was the reason Tifa was looked at him with her head cocked to the side, eyes asking him what was on his mind.
"They'll be getting here soon," she said, breaking the uncomfortable quiet with her soft smile. "I can't wait to see everyone. I know we meet every year, but there's so much that can happen during that time."
"Mmm." Cloud acknowledged the statement with a nod, taking the cup of steaming coffee she'd placed before him and blowing the hot mist from the top. "They're all changing, but they're still the same."
"Exactly. It's kind of comforting." Tifa hopped up to sit on the counter, facing the same way he was. There was a large shelf of drinks behind the bar, with glass doors, gold shelves, and a mirror at the back. Cloud usually found himself watching his reflection as it moved with him, obscured here and there by the wine and whiskey bottles and their long throats. He could also tell that Tifa did the exact same thing, watching his reflection as well as her own as she sat there, idly swinging her feet.
"It's hard to believe it's been five years already."
Tifa nodded, dark eyes dancing as they caught her infectious smile. "I can't believe it either. It feels like it was only a little while ago. I don't think that feeling will ever fade, though. It sure was a once-in-a-lifetime experience."
"Hard to imagine that it's over." He folded his fingers in front of him, brow knitted in thought once more. "I remember how after everything had happened and the Meteor had gone, we wandered around for days, waiting for the next thing to come up. It felt wrong for it all to be over. It was so awkward letting go of it, everyone parting and going their separate ways, one by one."
"But we still see each other," she piped in. "Kind of like we have a string tied to each one of us. We can't avoid each other. It's a warm feeling, running into them on the street, and seeing them smiling and enjoying the peace. I don't know, though... Lately it's been feeling kind of... hollow."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, say, when I run into Yuffie at a Materia shop in Kalm or see Cid and Shera at the chocobo farm, even when I see Barret when he stops by after work and we talk." Tifa lifted her cup of milk-lightened coffee to her lips, eyelids falling low over burgundy eyes. "There's this sort of empty feeling inside me. I don't know whether it's an absence of our quest or just a lack of intimacy that used to be there, but I feel like something's missing. I just don't know what."
Cloud looked down at his own cup of coffee, fully aware of what her words didn't say, what she didn't seem to want to accept. As he watched the steam rise in a soft cloud of warmth, a flurry of rose petals crossed his mental vision. The sweet scent of flowers, the cool smell of makou, a spray of brown hair and beautiful green eyes. He closed his eyes, and his lips dropped a single syllable into the air.
"Her."
Tifa set her mug down a bit too harshly, causing Cloud to jerk up from his stupor. He looked over at her, watching how her hand tightened around the cup, and the other folded over itself in a self-restraining fist. She was shaking, from her arms up into her shoulders. Cloud raised a hand, thought again, and decided it wasn't right to touch her.
"Cloud... I thought we made a deal. I thought we said..."
"We wouldn't dwell on it," he gave in with a sigh. "I know, but I don't think it's something we can control any longer. Our voices made that pact, but our hearts didnÕt. We can't deny what our hearts are saying."
"And what's that?" Tifa's voice was beginning to quiver, and he knew she was on the verge of tears.
"We... We miss her, Tifa. Both of us. All of us. We miss her."
Tifa pushed herself from the bar, landing with her back still to her friend. She slowly lifted her coffee once more to her lips, then placed the empty mug in the sink. She then leaned on the counter, staring at her reflection. Cloud could see one eye sparkled with unshed tears between two bottles of white wine.
"What are you saying we should do?" she asked.
"Tonight we're going to stop ignoring the fact that she isn't here with us and she should be. Tonight we're going to talk about her, use her name, and we're not going to run away from this. We need to stop losing ourselves in our memories and start thinking about how to cope." He could see her force her eyes closed against a river of tears that begged to flow. "Tifa... We need to heal."
"I hate how you can say that."
"What do you mean?"
"You... You were the closest to her. You met her and took care of her, and she you. You were there when she..." Her words trailed off, but their implication needed no detail. "You carried her, you let her go into the darkness. You knew her the longest of all of us, and yet you're telling me to heal. You were the most hurt and I'm the one crying. Why? Why does it happen this way?"
"I don't know, Tifa." Cloud rested his head against his arms, staring down at his boots. "I envy your tears. I wish I could cry for her."
There was no trace left of anger in her fingers as Tifa cupped one of Cloud's hands in two of her own. Her thumbs rubbed his palm gently in lieu of words she couldn't seem to find.
In the morning, she began tending the flowers in the garden. From the time the light began until the time the light was beginning to fade, it was where she would be found, nursing the perfumed blooms with her blue, formless hands and watering the ground with tears void of emotion. She harnessed the way the spirit would well up within her when she knelt and murmured words in a forgotten language, then spread that power about her to every living thing that inhabited the little garden. She kept it all alive, just as its owner would have had he still lived.
Not that she was one to ponder mortality. The only proof of her still having a conscious existence was this garden and its flowers. She at times even wondered about her purpose and whether she was ever real. Many times sheÕd gone to the Stream, stood on its banks, and contemplated joining the souls who were rushing to be reborn as plants, animals, and the occasional human. SheÕd drift closer, then the visions would come. People she knew, but couldnÕt name. Two girls, four men, and two furry creaturesÉ Specifically, those eerie, blue eyes. She would step back and remember her reason for still existing.
She wanted them to see the garden.
She cupped a tigerlily, striped with pink and dotted with touches of black, and led its head up to the sunlight that poured through the glass panes that covered the roof. Her gaze followed, up to watch as crystals of snow floated down, landing and puddling upon the glass. Without the wind or moisture, of the weather outside, the small haven was safe from the cold, and stayed spring-like all year long. This was exceptionally good for the flowers, as they lived long through the seasons, and comforting for the animals whoÕd taken refuge here to wait out the cold weather. Three frogs skimmed through the pond at the center of the garden, and five rabbits made their home beneath the peach tree. Even one lone doe grazed on the grass between the rosebushes. Here, every being was at peace, especially the gardener.
Today, however, the peace would be short-lived. As soon as all the flowers were watered and a lost frog was returned to the pond, another being appeared. The animals seemed unaware, but the gardener was taken aback by the new appearance. It was another formless one, with a voice familiar and distinctly female.
"The Mother is calling for you, Little One," she said, hovering by one of the fruitless trees.
"She calls for me? But why?"
"I know not, Little One, I do not question her but only do her bidding."
"Alright then. I shall come."
With a soft shimmer not unlike sunlight through rain, the two beings vanished from the peaceful garden, leaving the animals and plants to carry on in silence.
