Different

She's out walking when she sees him. She's doing nothing special, just her everyday errands. She's got three grocery bags in her one hand, and it's freezing below the plate today. She just happens to take the route by the train station, because yesterday there had been a few men there giving ungentlemanly catcalls. She really doesn't feel like putting up with that today.

He's standing, just barely, and when she looks into his eyes, it's only a second to remember, but she does.

She remembers when she was a girl, how they got off on the wrong foot. It'd started with her father banning her from seeing him after she fell off the bridge. It only fed her interest in him when she realized how different he was treated than her.

They had both lost a parent, her more recently. From what she had understood, Mr. Strife had never been present in Nibelhiem, while her mother had died seven years into her life.

The mothers of Nibelhiem had all pitied her, and gave her sympathy kisses and treated her like a princess.

They gave him the hard end of their brooms, and glares that sent the bravest man running.

She had asked her father about it once, why everyone disliked the boy so much.

"He's different, Tifa."

"…isn't that okay? Isn't it good?" It had been good when her mother was alive.

"…No, sweetie, it isn't."

It hadn't been the smartest thing to say to an impressionable young girl. She wanted to be different then, so her father would make being different good again.

So, when Zangan had took up resident in the small town, and every boy flocked to him for training, she joined them. Of course this made every girl and mother appalled, but she didn't care. One day, different would be good again.

She hadn't been the only student, so she had to work that much harder, had to train that much more to be above the rest, to be different.

"Why do you train so much?" the boy had asked her, one day after school.

She had grinned, "I'm not different yet. I can be your friend when different is good again."

She hadn't realized then that the statement was slightly insulting, so the bridge between them had been lengthened. Still, she trained on and on, even after the boy left, till she was different.

Still, different hadn't helped when Sephiroth burned her town to the ground. She hadn't saved anyone, her father included. It also hadn't helped when she arrived in Midgar, where her different attitude and innocence was a beacon for trouble. She had worked through that, though, never actually changing.

Then today comes, when she sees him and remembers everything. He collapses in the entire half-second their eyes connect, and she's stuck with the duty of hauling her groceries and him through the streets.

When he finally wakes in her tiny home, he recognizes her, but he's not sure if she recognizes him.

So, he asks.

"Why did you save me?"

She grins, "I made different good again."

A/N: heh, different, eh? Okay, that was corny. Binkledup You are a sweetheart. Massive huggles to you. Cal: Yesh yesh, I know of teh grammar now. I should go back and fix it...but I'm lazy...hee. This is one of those that I had a few more chapters planned out, but I forgot them all...so I just left it standing, but your review inspired me to bring this thing alive again. thankies Ghostly that's the idea...heh