Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Tifa opened her window, the chilly air of Nibelheim rushing into her cozy room. She resisted a shiver-after all, mountain girls weren't affected by the cold (not even if they had proper air conditioning)- lounging on the plush cushion of her window seat, the forest sat outside the town, the occasional hoot of an owl amid the whooshing valley breezes.
Behind her would be the Nibel Mountains that would lead to the burnt orange canyons of Cosmo, or Rocket Town where a hulking machine resting under construction longing for the stars- or to the south the swamps of Gongaga. To the west the island of Wutai, and their elegant architecture, and East... Midgar.
She looked to the water tower. She could see the peculiar blonde- Cloud Strife anxiously glance about before he sat down, disappearing behind the rotten wood (only a single spike visible). He'd probably leave for Midgar too, like all the other boys looking for work. She delicately retrieved a crumpled invitation from her trash bin, admiring the neat penmanship.
Her father discouraged any relationship with the boy with scrapped knees, but that didn't stop her as she smiled, climbing down the drain pipe along the side of her house, grinned at Missus Strife from where she cooked a traditional dinner by her kitchen window and strut to the tower to the beat of a popular song.
Besides, what did fathers know about their daughters?