None of it should have survived, yet it stood unmarred by a single flame. Maybe it was an illusion. Maybe it was a fever dream.
The soil beneath her boots was real. The subtle breeze sifting through the town's center was real. The path leading to the Mako reactor was real. Each building, from the sparse shops to the humble homes, was real. Even the one she grew up in.
A scream knotted up in Tifa's throat and never burst past her feeble lips.
She drifted from the group to investigate the place she once called home. The door creaked open. Her father mentioned back then how he was waiting for the shop to stock up on some grease so he could fix it. Daylight filtered through the windows, providing dim illumination to the otherwise dark interior. Not a speck of dust covered any surface. Then again, not a soul resided in the abode. Maybe it was better off that way, though the reminder of ghosts did little to lighten her heart.
After examining the first floor, Tifa inched upstairs. A single door hung open at the end of the hallway. There, more light flooded in through the vast windows. She stared, frozen from the shock and disbelief. It was in her best interest to forsake the place and return to the others. What was the point in unearthing skeletons she buried long ago?
But someone else already stirred the grave that was Nibelheim.
With a deep breath, Tifa entered the room. It hadn't changed. Every piece of furniture, every book, every doll... all of it was in its exact place, just as she left it. She shuffled to her dressers and dared to open them; each article of clothing she ever owned back then tucked into the drawers, ironed and folded. The photographs hanging from the walls—snapshots of her childhood—stared back at Tifa. She smiled more then—she had a reason to. Nothing elicited her to do so now.
Closing the drawer, she peeked past her shoulder to locate her most prized item. Of course it was still there. Whoever took the time and effort to evoke this facade was keen enough to add the piano by the window.
Tifa approached the instrument, fingertips skimming the wood finish before opening the fallboard to reveal the black and white keys.
She remembered sitting in her mother's lap as a child while she instructed Tifa how to play. They sang simple rhymes against the backdrop of the lovely piano. She remembered playing it in her free time, repeating measure until she perfected the pattern. Her window propped ajar and the neighboring boys gathered on the streets to witness Tifa's expertise as a musician. She remembered slamming fists into the keys and the piano responded with a horrific cacophony. Her father persisted with knocking at the locked door while Tifa crumbled to the floor, hugging her legs as tears cascaded down her face. She remembered ignoring it altogether. Why dwell on broken memories when she could live in the present?
If only there was a way to restore what she once loved.
Her fingers stroked the keys. Gentle notes flowed into the room. Several stuck upon her touch, a reminder to add pressure to those particular notes. That much hadn't changed. Neither had the higher octaves, out of tune by five years now. Or had it been six?
What difference did it even make? Her fingers fumbled and the notes clashed. Of everything she burned into her mind, Tifa never bothered to remember the piano and the memories sealed within it.
She trailed away from the keys. Sitting at the edge of the bed—her bed—Tifa hung her head and closed her eyes. Why was all of this still here? Why was it that she recalled it burning to ash, yet ruins didn't surround her? Those crystal clear memories screamed within. And she wasn't the only one—Cloud remembered, too. But how? He was never there, yet his recollection said otherwise. Or were their memories of Nibelheim embedded into them in the aftermath of the catastrophe? Did it never burn to begin with? Was everything she loved a lie
What even existed anymore?
"There you are."
The calm voice still shot through Tifa. She hitched her breath and spun around, prepared to fight, if need be. All of that melted away as she found Aeris in the doorway.
She tilted her head and offered a smile. "Hey. Didn't mean to bother you. Everyone was worried when they realized you disappeared, but I saw you come in here."
Tifa averted her gaze. "I wasn't trying to worry anyone."
"I know." A pause. "Do you still want to be alone?"
Initially, she did. Concealing her emotions proved to be more troublesome the longer they traveled. None of them deserved the burden of her thoughts. Such nonsense was better off bottled up and placed elsewhere. There were greater matters to attend to, after all.
But Aeris continued to offer her ear to Tifa. Just in case, was what she said. Always with a smile, always without judgment. It was enough to bring Tifa's eyes back to Aeris.
"You can stay, if you'd like," she said.
To that, Aeris perked up and joined Tifa on the bed.
"This is really nice," Aeris mentioned, eyes scanning the room. "I wish I had a room like this growing up."
Tifa held her tongue.
"I don't really remember much as a kid, but the labs were never this pretty or comforting. I guess Elmyra's house was welcoming, but... it was never home, you know?"
"Yeah."
Aeris leaned forward to catch Tifa's eye. "Can you play?"
"Hmm?"
She gestured to the piano. Tifa's heart plummeted.
"I... I forgot," she eventually confessed.
"But you knew at one point?"
"Maybe?" She chuckled at herself, the dry sound already dead the moment it left her lips. "Does it even matter?"
"Well, I'd love to hear you play if you did know, even a little."
What would she even play for Aeris? Her lighthearted nature as a child understood the measures better than she did in the present. She closed her eyes and clamped a hand over her mouth. Oh, how she yearned to play like that again, just for Aeris. If only she hadn't banned the very existence of that piano in order to cleanse herself of the memories she still couldn't forget.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled.
"Tifa? What's wrong?"
Tears squeezed past her lids, despite her desire to contain them. "None of this should be here. It burned years ago and yet it still stands. I... I don't know what even happened anymore. Not during that accident, not years before... and yet I still remember it like it was yesterday. I remember... she bought this for me. It was a birthday present. I always loved the records she played and she thought I'd want to learn to play. She wanted me to be happy. That's all she ever wanted. That's... all she ever..."
Tifa curled up into herself, fingers digging into her scalp. She quietly sobbed. Why couldn't she wake from this nightmare?
A soft hand settled into her trembling back. The gentle caress soothed Tifa.
"Sometimes," Aeris murmured, "The Planet speaks to me when I least expect it. It can feel invasive; I shouldn't be privy to such personal details, but The Planet still whispers, as if it yearns for anyone to listen. The moment we came here, I felt such anguish overcome me. There were echoes of screams and then silence. I should have found peace in that quiet lull in my mind, but I wanted to cry. It feels silly to say that; why should I mourn for people I've never met and a place I've never known?
"But then I followed you here to make sure you were alright and that's when I felt it. It reminded me of when my mom held me and sang lullabies whenever I stubbed my toe or felt scared. I've never heard the Planet as clearly as I did a moment ago. I don't know if that's rare or what it even means, but I wish you could hear it, Tifa. Every whisper I heard was for you."
Teardrops splashed onto her lap. A chill danced up her spine. With an inhale, she turned to Aeris and buried her face into her shoulder. Aeris welcomed her with a tight embrace.
"I miss her," Tifa whispered. "I wish she was still here."
"But she is," Aeris spoke into her hair. "Maybe not like how we are, but she's here. And she never stopped loving you." After a pause, Aeris continued. "I... remember when I lost my mother. I was terrified. I couldn't imagine living without her. She was in pain, but even then, she smiled and told me not to worry. She said she was returning to the Lifestream and she could watch over me, no matter where I went. But I didn't want that. I wanted her to stay and not be hurt."
"Did you... ever get over it?"
"I think so? Maybe?" She chuckled softly. "I think I grieve for her more now than I did as a child. That... seems selfish, but I cannot deny these tears at times. She'd want me to be strong, but some days are better than others. I wish she was here to tell me it's alright."
Tifa closed her eyes and squeezed Aeris. "It is alright. We've got each other, yeah? And I'm sure your mother would be proud of how far you've come."
She swore Aeris smiled against her. "Just as yours is of you."
Tiny sniffles filtered through. Tifa furrowed her brow and reined back enough to catch sight of those tears trickling down Aeris' face.
"Aeris... are you okay?"
"Yeah, it's alright." She smiled and dried her eyes, though the tears kept flowing. "Crying is good. It's better than bottling it all up, anyways.
"I didn't mean to make you cry."
"You didn't. Sometimes I get overwhelmed. I wish I wasn't so sensitive at times."
"Don't say that."
Tifa cupped Aeris' face and flicked away those tears. Green eyes opened to her.
"That's what makes you you," Tifa reminded her. "It's proof you have a compassionate heart."
They stared at one another, lost in the other's tender gaze. For but a moment, Tifa forgot the horrors surrounding her; all that mattered was Aeris.
"I'll never let anything snuff that light of yours," Tifa whispered.
With a gentle hum, Aeris eased in closer. Their foreheads met. Her breath teased Tifa's lips.
"You pour your heart onto others and never expect anything in return," Aeris replied.
She shifted against Tifa and kissed the remaining tears lingering on her cheeks. The sensation washed over Tifa like a warm fire in the dead of winter. A sigh trembled out of her.
"I'll never let anything break your heart," Aeris said, rubbing her nose against Tifa's. "I'm here for you. Never forget that."
Sliding her arms around Aeris' neck, Tifa held her as if nothing else mattered. "I am, too. I promise."
Aeris nodded into her and closed her eyes. "I promise."
They didn't break their embrace until the others called from outside in search for them. They reluctantly untangled themselves from one another. Aeris stood first, fixing her hair in front of a nearby mirror before heading for the door. Tifa smoothed out her skirt upon standing and stopped.
Once more, she eyed the piano. Once more, she approached it and hovered an anxious hand over it. Swallowing hard, she slowly danced fingertips across the keys. The melody wasn't perfect, but it existed.
Soft, yet brisk clapping sounded from the door. "So you can play." Aeris swayed on her feet with a smirk. "You don't give yourself enough credit."
She simply smiled and followed Aeris out of the room and out of the house. Maybe the next time they crossed paths with a piano, she'd try again. She could relearn for herself. For her mother.
For Aeris.