Disclaimer: We do not own Cloud; Tifa; Vincent; Sephiroth etc. They are the property of Square Enix! The crazy idea, however, belongs to my friend and I, and we're both writing this story. We switch off chapters, and this is hers (raingds); Enjoy!
I.
"Aeris? Aeris, can I talk to you?" Tifa felt her eyes grow watery again and looked up at the ceiling to prevent tears from leaking out. The other woman turned around in surprise, a forkful of spaghetti halfway to her mouth. Upon seeing her friend's distress, Aeris set down her fork and ushered Tifa into the lounging room of the inn. The others looked up from their meals, pausing all conversation, but Aeris gave them a small nod and they all carried on warily. The teary-eyed woman practically fell into the comfortable arm chair and held her face in her hands; tears sliding down her face and onto her skirt. "I can't hold it in anymore. I really can't. I need to tell you because you won't tell him." To Aeris, Tifa seemed to be talking in riddles, not making much sense.
"What's wrong? Are you alright?" she knelt down and put a hand on the other woman's shoulder. Apart from quietly snuffing each other over Cloud, Aeris and Tifa had never really gotten past exchanging names and polite glances. Now, to be confronted with an over emotional Tifa, Aeris knew that this was something serious, something she didn't want anyone else to find out.
"Aeris, please, you can't tell Cloud. You just can't, it would ruin him. But I just can't be the only one who knows any more...and you might know what to do." Tifa said between sobs.
There was a moment where everything became blurred, Tifa and Aeris had a short conversation and then there was a scream from the next room. Everything became clear again as Aeris and Tifa raced back into the dining room to see Cloud, lying as a bloody pulp on the floor. Tifa screamed, but no sound came out, the floor opened up and she fell into the darkness.
--
Tifa jolted forward, sweat covering her entire body. The tank top and shorts she'd worn to bed were also fairly soaked. She got out of bed, welcoming the cool air that came in through the solitary bedroom window. That dream again, this time clearer and more frightening. Her legs gave out on her and she fell to her hands and knees, shivering and sobbing. Aeris was the only person she had been able to tell, and know that the woman was dead, Tifa was stuck with the truth years later. She could feel the truth in her mind, like a monster trying to claw its way out. "I'm going to go crazy." she said to herself out loud, a bitter smile crossing her face. For now, she needed to sleep. Tomorrow was another day.
--
Seventh Heaven bar opened early because a lot of the night shift construction workers stopped by for a few drinks, which meant Tifa also had to wake up early. Shifting out of bed and cradling an oncoming migraine, she stumbled into the bathroom, washing her face and brushing her teeth mechanically. Slipping on a navy 'MIDGAR, KEEP ON ROCKIN'' t-shirt and a pair of jeans, Tifa made her way down the stairs while pulling her hair back into a loose bun. With a flip of a switch, the overhead fans came on and the intercom radio crooned a classic acoustic song. Dry swallowing a few advil, Tifa began moving the dry dishes back on to the shelves. There was a knock on the door, which meant the mail had arrived. A few letters slid through the small slot on the door, but then there was another knock. "Package for Miss Lockheart." a familiar rough voice called out.
"Coming!" she called, unlocking the door and taking a thick envelope from the mailman at the door. "Thanks Glenn." she said with a smile, turning around to pick up the rest of the mail on the floor. The mailman tipped his hat and took off down the street while Tifa shut the door, examining the package in her hand. Usually a package had something to do with the bar, about business and the like. But this one had no return address, just bold words written in black marker across the front reading "I found this in some old ShinRa archive. Thought you might want it back." The handwriting was unrecognizable, adding to the mystery. The package felt like a thick stack of paper, and when she tore open the envelope, she found she had guessed right. Inside was a thick stack of faded paper, yellowish around the edges with a few stains on the cover. Immediately Tifa dropped it, seeing the familiar title and handwriting. She had to clasp a hand over her mouth to keep her screams from coming out. Backing away, Tifa fell into one of the bar chairs, fighting to keep herself steady. So this was the reason for the dreams, everything was coming together again.
On the floor at her feet lay a manuscript, written in a child's handwriting. At the top, written in large bold letter that had been traced over many times was the title 'THE STORY OF A BOY NAMED CLOUD'.
--
Cloud parked his motorcycle outside Seventh Heaven, removed his goggles and leather jacket and walked toward the door. He hadn't been back to Midgar for a few weeks since he'd been delivering all across the country nonstop. It was tiring work, but it payed well and he needed the money. Apparently, saving the planet didn't help you any with your retirement fund.
It was late in the afternoon, though hard to tell in the constant Midgar smog. Cloud spares a disgruntled look at the depressing gray sky hovering above him like a rude person peeking over his shoulder. He hadn't been getting a lot of sleep lately, which was no surprise really. The memories of Sephiroth's recent return and destruction replayed over and over in his head. Defeating Sephiroth again had been like a nightmare of deja vu. I wont be just a memory. The general's words rang clear in his head, sometimes over and over again, especially while he slept. There was something he had missed. A message he was supposed to grasp, but had completely looked over. To Cloud, it felt like he had unturned all of the rocks except for the gigantic glittering boulder in plain sight, and now it was too late. A part of him was lost forever.
Upon reaching the entrance to the bar, he quietly opened the door and was surprised to see Tifa looking rather distressed, sitting in one of the bar chairs and staring straight at him with terrible fear in her eyes. "Tifa, are you alright?" he asked immediately, walking toward her. She tried to speak, but seemed unable, quickly jumping up from her seat and kicked a stack of papers under the table. If she had been trying to prevent him from seeing it, though, it was too late. He saw his name written across the top in bold letters, and for some reason it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "What was that?" he asked, trying to move past her. Tifa held her hands up, tears glistening in her eyes.
"It's nothing, I just didn't clean up last night, that's all." Please believe me, please believe me. Tifa chanted in her head, eyes pinned on Cloud's, trying desperately to pour her thoughts into his. He didn't believe her, though. That much was obvious as he tried to move past her.
"My name was on that..." he said, looking at her questioningly. Cloud finally pushed past her, for she found that there really was no way she could keep this from him. If she somehow destroyed the papers, the truth would haunt her forever and she didn't want that. Tifa couldn't protect Cloud anymore, the dreams had told her that.
Cloud bent over, stared at the paper with his clear blue eyes. They looked tired, she thought, tired and sad. It was evident these years had taken a permanent toll on the man, and what he was about to discover would not help him any. With trembling hands, she bent down next to him and watched his face closely. At first, there was no change, but as he read further down the manuscript his eyebrows knit together and his mouth dropped. "What is this?" he asked quietly, rubbing a thumb over the stained edges. Tifa wanted to hug him, wrap her arms around his shoulders and tell him it was nothing, just a practical joke.
"Um...it came in the mail today." she said, trying to speak through her tears. Tifa made one last attempt to take the manuscript away, lightly tugging it in his grasp, but he did not let go. She fell back onto her butt, pulling her legs to her chest. "I wrote it when I was ten" she sighed, "I wrote a few other stories, but this is the longest one."
"It's all about me, though." Cloud said, squinting at the pages. "Except I have brown hair." He looked over at her, eyes full of questions. Tifa found she couldn't hold his gaze, couldn't dare look him in the eye. "Did you write this about me?" She wanted to say yes so bad, but that would make no sense because some of the events in the story she wasn't supposed to know about until she helped Cloud sort his memories out in the life stream.
"No...I wrote it long before I met you."