Tempus' Paladin

Written by Whimsical Symphony

I had this bit prewritten, so it might be a week or two for my next update. A lot of memories for Tifa in this chapter, she meets her roommates and an introduction to our three favourite First Classes. I actually think that I wrote Genesis pretty well this time – whenever I've written him before, he's always been too charming and not bratty enough, when now the bratty trait overshadows his charm. I did have some problems though, such as I'm not sure whether she connected with her roommates enough. They're going to stand with her through thick and thin even though they have no clue she's a girl. They have something in common too.

In any case, your thoughts are greatly appreciated whether they be good, bad or ugly – I can take any criticism in stride. Hit me with your worst. I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Chapter II ~ Memories ~

Tifa looked at the sheet of paper in her hands, a schedule they had gotten assigned after that presentation by Lazard, director of SOLDIER.

She wondered where Cloud had gone off to, whether they would be in any classes together, how he would react when he saw her hair short, every feminine bit of her body skillfully covered up, discarded as if it never existed like a candy wrapper useless from the beginning, begging to be thrown away. Tifa wished somewhere inside that he would be a little forlorn at the least that the girl who lived in his town now had to live life as a male so she could stay in the program. But perhaps he wouldn't be at all. Cloud never saw her as a woman, just a girl who lived in his hometown, then a member of his team, his comrade that he cared for no more, no less than the others.

Tifa liked that equality and fairness he showed to them all, but at the same time, she wondered if he ever realized the true extent of her feelings for him, like an extending rubber band, stretching far beyond its limit, with the risk of snapping at any moment, painfully stinging the wrist it bound itself to. She thought not, not even bitterly. Cloud always had been a bit of an emotional failure, oblivious to most feelings but his own. He never gave her any indication that he knew. Never. She was thankful, but then again, she wasn't at the same time. How would life have differed if she let him knew? She knew already she would be shot down, but at the least, would he see her as a woman?

She walked down the hallway briskly, rolling her luggage behind her, sighing at all the depressing thoughts which mounted their way through her head, creating a stampede of words, memories and thoughts, a mixture of colours on a palette, and a composition of notes all minor key.

Tifa knew as well, even if she had the option to tell him, she didn't want to give him more to think about. Cloud broke. She didn't want to be the cause of that, and if keeping her feelings inside would heal him, she would.

Opening the door to what would be her room in the cadet barracks, shared with three other people, Tifa wondered what to expect.

Unlike Cloud, she never had been part of Shinra, she had no clue what to expect from training, whether she would do well, whether she would do poorly, or anything about it. Now she had the added problem of concealing her gender from anyone she met: to be Cadet Tifa Lockhart, a male grunt the same as anyone else, hoping to become a First-Class SOLDIER. Tifa betted all her chances on her fighting prowess so she could quickly go through the ranks – the only chance she had of meeting First-Class Genesis Rhapsodos, to meet Zack, Second-Class now.

The room was dark and dingy, as would be expected for accommodations for lowly ranked members of the military. Tifa placed her luggage near the corner near her chosen bunk. She thought oddly of someone like Sephiroth sleeping somewhere like this back in his days of being a cadet, if those days ever existed after all. He seemed much too regal for the shoebox sized room with two bunk beds and barely enough space to move around in, let alone sleep and live in.

Beside each bed, when she walked in was a small box. Since she had been the first to arrive, Tifa sat on a bed of her choice with a box in her lap, deciding then she would see what was inside.

"Reminds me of the cargo ship," Tifa said, a little amused. Inside, the cadet uniform lay folded neatly, the same blue she remembered it as when she had such fun on the cargo ship, when all of them decided to dress up as members of the Shinra military, underneath was the more casual uniform, she inferred. Tifa remembered laughing when she saw Nanaki, his tail sticking out the back, attempting to walk on two legs and pass off as a human. It seemed to work too, as no one made one comment about it. "It only did make me think they were a little stupid."

And making fun of Shinra during their travels had been one of those forced fun-times which kept them going when things seemed dark and bleak, when they tried to recover after facing Jenova on the cargo ship, for one.

The door opened and Tifa looked up from the box. Her three roommates entered, who looked with eager eyes upon their beds even though they were anything but fancy, who seemed excited to start the trainee program. Tifa couldn't blame them, she saw how the boys in her own town reacted, and even she grew excited at the prospect that she might know a SOLDIER, if Cloud ever became one, and to have that SOLDIER save her when she was in danger.

She shouldn't have at all, that puny amount of greed, selfishness she acquired at that age, back when she'd been more pampered, less rough and tough like now. Now, the lack of space left no room for luxury and because of that, she had the care for Cloud to not care in the least whether he made it to SOLDIER. By the time he came to Nibelheim on that fateful mission with Shinra and hid his face from her, she passed the phase where she cared about his rank.

Cloud was home safe, which the only thing which mattered to her.

The possibility grew in her mind from the deepest, darkest depths of shadow that he could die in battle. His body could lie on the battleground, trampled upon, multiple bullet wounds and blood gushing from torn flesh layered like an onion, jagged edges never pieced together like a torn stuffed animal. Then, in time his flesh would turn putrid, mummified and that body of his had a chance of never being found. The thought frightened her beyond belief, forced her to grow up and care for him as she should have long ago.

"It's kind of small, don't ya think?" one male exclaimed.

His hair oddly reminded her of Reno, a mane of red, though in much less of a state of disarray, actually combed and neatly put into a ponytail. He chose the bunk bed adjacent to hers, and in similar taste to her own, chose the bottom bunk, though she suspected not for the same reasons.

The feeling of being near the bottom gave her more security, helped her chase of the nightmares when they resurfaced in her mind, terrible and hot, burning, damaging like a Mako reactor explosion she caused back in her days in AVALANCHE.

"What can you expect, Kris," another said, scoffing. "We're newbies in the Shinra army. They're not going to give us anything good until we prove ourselves by getting into SOLDIER."

The down to earth (and slightly pessimistic) one it seemed like. His hair shocked her, down to his lower back, raven hair braided neatly without a hair out of place. His clothes, ruffled and tied, neatly pressed, made Tifa suspect he came from a wealthy family somewhere.

"Guys stop arguing, our last roommate's looking at us funny." The last male approached her and stuck out a hand for her to shake, which she did, still slightly confused that they went from conversing with one another straight to her. He grinned and Tifa noticed two distinct dimples on his cheeks filled with baby fat he hadn't yet outgrown. Blonde hair and blue eyes, Tifa solemnly thought he reminded her of a younger Cloud. "Hey roomie! I'm Taioh," he greeted, "the one with the nice as hell clothes is Lucian," he gestured toward the second male who spoke, who spared her little more than a glance, "and the stupid one is Kris." Kris protested vehemently at that and Tifa chuckled in response, reminding herself not to lose her way because of old memories – she had a goal to focus on now. "Who're you?"

"I'm Teef Lockhart," she introduced herself with a grin. "Nice to meet you."

"Teef, huh?" he replied with a confused look on his face.

"A bit of a girly name, don't you think?" Lucian elaborated, looking at her face and body suspiciously. Tifa couldn't help but scowl. "A girly face and one… scrawny figure. You have to be a woman; there's no other alternative."

Tifa sat up and approached Lucian, to which Taioh and Kris had no clue in what manner to react. "Takes one to know one, Lucian." She looked him down from head to toe. "You don't look all that fit either, you just smell like money. Your name too, actually." Tifa punched him in the arm, hard enough to bruise, not hard enough to cause any permanent damage. Even so, she felt the slight strain, the backlash on her own fist which, in her old time, she grew long immune to. She already predicted that her muscles had not developed nearly enough – she still attended training with Zangan at this age. Her experience definitely outmatched what her body could do. Lucian winced, and frowned. "So much for girly, huh?"

Lucian simply scoffed but said no more before he climbed up the ladder to the top bunk of Kris' bed and lay in his bed, silent, attempting to get some much needed rest to prepare for the long day ahead of them tomorrow. Before long, he was out like a light. Tifa didn't want him on the top bunk of hers anyway – his personality needed some work.

Kris looked a bit nervous, then spoke to her, a bit apologetic. "Sorry for Lucian, he's always like that."

Taioh climbed on the top bunk of Tifa's bed and placed his luggage near the side like Tifa did and said, "Lucian's always grown up in a wealthy family and he doesn't warm up to other people easily. We lived below the plate, not prime candidates to meet someone like him, you know? Well you might not, huh? I don't think you're from Midgar, but every day's a struggle to live down there. You have to fight tooth and nail for survival. I got pretty good at fighting that way, protected Kris too." Kris nodded in agreement, looking a bit glum.

Taioh would have no idea that Tifa did know, first hand, what living below the plate was like, the dusty, pathless construction, a thoughtless, failed imitation of what live above the plate was like from those who were envious of the way that higher class citizens could live in the metropolis and throw away money like excess trash. Below the plate, every building, every home and every action knew no independence, manipulated by the strings of broken dreams.

People moved to Midgar thinking they would be living the high class life in the Mako city, only to be crushed and forgotten, living below the plate where crimes were an everyday occurrence, rape, theft, brutal assaults and murder. If she hadn't learned martial arts, she would have fallen, a red target painted on her from working at the bar as well.

Soon, Tifa grew desensitized to the feeling of seeing dead people in alleyways, corpses, eyes glazed over, looking blankly at the stars hoping for any kind of salvation from slum life. She tried hard to protect them when she could, but she could only do so much. The feeling of helplessness overwhelmed her, a dark feeling constructed of newsprint, black and greys – and then, unlike some of the slum dwellers who would turn to trying to work for Shinra to get above the plate, she grew to resent them, what they were doing, everything. To put children like Marlene through it all, unforgiveable.

"Shit, Teef, I tol' you not to work at this time o' night!" the burly man scolded her, looking cross, shaking in anger as he looked at the bruises on her arms, bright pinks and purples. Marlene hid behind her leg, eyes downcast, not wanting to look at the bodies surrounding them, knocked unconscious.

Tifa turned away from the man in front of her and knelt on the floor, giving Marlene a small smile. "Hey, Marlene - how about you go play in the back room okay? I have some stuffed animals that I got for you." Almost immediately did Marlene grin, large and toothily before she nodded and skipped to the back room to play as Tifa said. The woman turned to look at Barret and gave him a weak smile. "You know I can't help it. I have to earn money, this is the only way."

"Goddamn Shinra, makin' us live like this! Damn those punks for comin' in all the time! Shit!" Barret cursed and threw an empty glass on the bar table at the wall. The crash resounded through the building and Barret trembled, hating more and more the feeling of seeing Tifa injured. She looked at him calmly, just a smile on her face as if she already knew to expect that from him. "Thanks fo' protectin' Marlene when I couldn't be there."

"It's okay, Marlene is important to me too," Tifa replied genuinely. Marlene kept her company where no one else did, helped ease away the pain of loneliness eating through her, parasitic in nature, using her as a host to fulfil their dreams of taking over the lives of those who lived below the plate.

"Teef," Barret said, his voice unusually soft, concerned, "Jus', take care o' yourself…" Tifa knew that would be the most outward showing of concern she ever got from the prickly man, but she never minded. Him showing anger proved he cared about her well-being, her condition where not many others did besides Biggs, Wedge and Jessie. Barret stiffened noticeably after that and turned back toward the entrance of the bar. His back faced her, his voice held less of that anger now that he managed to let it out. "I gotta go out on some business," he said. "Remin' me to pay outta my pocket fo' that glass." Then he exited wordlessly.

Tifa smiled, glad that the man cared. He didn't need to know that she would never accept his money that he saved up, mostly for Marlene.

It made her sad thinking about Barret, Biggs, Wedge and Jessie. So she stopped, allowing the fogginess within her own mind to take over once more, bringing her back to the present, blocking her access to the despair which lay within thinking she would never see Barret again. The thought made her feel better when she remembered Biggs, Wedge and Jessie were alive now at the least, she could still remember Barret's wails of agony, resounding through the ruined playground like banshees in the night, telling them of death, of new sorrow.

"Lucian ran away from home, didn't receive the best treatment from his Ma' and Pa'," Taioh continued laying on his back, fingering the small chain around his neck. "He ended up below the plate and met me and Kris fighting off one of those fiends near the Train Graveyard, it looked pretty bad. We wanted to get some loot for us to pawn off. Kris and I had no parents, we stuck together like brothers. I got a scar that reminds me of how close it'd been."

For some reason, the story resonated within her. These people lived a similar life to her, like a mirror, fighting for that same survival she fought for. Tifa understood how hard it was to earn a living. She even pitied the punks who came in day by day attempting to raid her bar and steal what little gil she hid away. Tifa never killed them, only knocked them out, only to see them return a few days later with more men than before. She had to get the bruises sometime, the purple patches which signified how weak she had been, marring skin that, if she lived above the plate would have been normal, unblemished.

The girl who lived in Nibelheim died, no longer girly and vain, just focusing on how to make a living for her, her friends and Marlene, to focus on how to save the planet from its ever approaching demise, a ticking time bomb, a grandfather clock's tick tock, tick tock in a room of white, echoing from wall to wall.

"Lucian saved us though, helped us when we'd been about to die," Kris chimed in. "After that, he came to the bottom plate pretty often, making excuses to his parents, till eventually, he told them he wanted to join Shinra. They agreed and he secretly brought us along. His parents would never agree with friends like us, we're not really of his status. We… we just want to make a living, so we took the opportunity for him to, with his status, be able to take us above the plate." He looked not in the least bit sad at this, grinning like a child. "But, we've always been like brothers anyway. He's always taken care of us, though he's a bit cold about it. His parents never taught him how to get along with people really. His silence when he reacts to you means he's acknowledged you."

"But enough of that, what about you, Teef, where're you from?" Taioh asked.

She found herself connecting to her roommates and even understood Lucian's behavior to some degree. At least now she knew he didn't detest her. He seemed like a good enough person if he managed to be one of the few who would stop and help slum dwellers. Many of the richer folk wouldn't, choosing instead to walk past and act as if they didn't see anything.

"Well, I'm from Nibelheim…" Tifa said, and found herself recounting some of her life in the old town with these people who she just met, complete strangers who she somehow just felt like talking to in a world which seemed so cold and desolate.

In just a little while, the nightmares were warded off like bugs by insect repellent. The bad thoughts which swam in her mind like athletes going strong suddenly drowned in a whirlpool of light, cleansing her mind, giving way to tranquility. It reminded her of that same warmth of Goddess Minerva and Aeris, their silent sacrifice.

Tifa woke up a little earlier than everyone else in her room, giving herself little over an hour to quickly change, eat breakfast in the mess hall, then run to class and be the perfect Shinra cadet. She woke up feeling weak, a little groggy and desperately wanted to hit her head against the wall in hopes that it would drive the pain away.

She wondered why, memories ran through her head with such clarity, her mind, like a piece of cloth, stained by scalding tea, the liquid seeping into the fabric. It hurt. She wondered if Minerva planned this. Tifa shook her head.

"No point thinking about it. It's probably just a side effect," Tifa muttered. She didn't even want to think about the fact that she came in contact with the Lifestream. If not in her current body, not being sent through time, would she have ended up like Cloud did, so unresponsive, sickly, hardly the same person? "I shouldn't waste time thinking about it. I have to go and be a Shinra cadet."

The thought made her snicker. Shinra-hating Tifa becoming a recruit was more than laughable.

Quickly grabbing the secondary uniform underneath the first blue one she stepped into the small closet given to all rooms and changed. The feeling of trepidation lasted, feeling that at any moment, she could have gotten caught and be sent home. It consisted of pants a sort of vest, boots and shoulder guards. Apparently the first one was more for show than anything else, as this one definitely proved easier to move around in and fight in.

"A little bit loose," she stated, looking at all the hanging fabric near the thighs and on the top part of the uniform. "At least it hides everything better."

Optimism had been one of her charms, back when they worked on raiding Mako reactors all the way until the bitter end. She and Yuffie got along better than the majority of them thought.

Looking at a map given to her with her schedule, she made her way out of the room with her slumbering bunkmates and followed it to where it said the mess hall was. Her stomach growled mercilessly. She didn't even remember the last time she ate in this time, truth be told. She guessed she made time to eat sometime yesterday, but she couldn't be sure of the time. Tifa groaned, thinking right about now, she could probably eat one of the meals Cid used to cook – those terrible burnt meals with crunchy rice and half burned noodles he used to cook when Shera wasn't around.

"Shut up! I can cook just as well as that damn Shera!" he would say. He couldn't, and he would never admit it, choosing instead to eat the blasted thing instead of letting one of the more capable members of their group make a meal.

The mess hall was large, but that proved necessary as there were a huge number of cadets, and had random tables and chairs scattered about. Shinra did care about appearances though, so a few fancy potted plants sat around the general vicinity and all the chairs and tables seemed expensive and matched one another, some kind of rare metal. It seemed like, by looking at the hall, that the food would prove to be even average.

After this, Tifa would grow to doubt her own judgement and analytical skills.

When she looked at the breakfast choices provided in the mess hall, she only thanked herself for having no real appetite.

"They offer this?" she said blankly, sharing the same expression as the other cadets who stood in line and caught a glimpse of what was offered – a bubbly mass of something pink and gooey which almost seemed alive, a jello the colour of Emerald Weapon, and grains which resembled rice, but a colour resembling the dirty ground of lower Junon.

When it reached her turn, the mess hall lady, her hair up in a bun with a hair net over it, looked anything but interested to be doing what she did. She dropped a huge heap of all three on Tifa's plate and ushered her along, which she did so staring at the food with barely concealed curiosity, wondering what the ingredients of each thing actually was.

Sitting down at one of the empty tables she poked around her food with a fork causing it to slosh around her plate in an increasingly unappealing manner. "Damn you, Shinra," Tifa whispered. Preparing to take a bite, she then paused and decided against it, poking at the food once more. The chatter in the mess hall ceased, she wondered why. When she looked around, she then realized, they all came here to catch a glimpse of one of the famous First-Class SOLDIERs. They had to come around to eat, though Tifa had an inkling of a feeling they often ate out, for obvious reasons. She wouldn't be able to take it if she had Cid's meals every day. Her stomach often did uncomfortable somersaults when she tasted his food and then it all came out the wrong end and led to her hurling without control into an inn toilet.

But then, their prayers were heard it seemed.

"Sephiroth, Angeal, tell me again why we must eat in the mess hall?" Genesis stated, utterly annoyed, even choosing to hide his beloved LOVELESS book beneath the folds of his red leather coat to not be read. "We are First-Class SOLDIERs, we have the money to eat out. I do not, in any way, wish to subject my body to this cruelty when I experienced it once upon a time already." He walked briskly ahead of the other two, throwing what they deemed as a 'Genesis Temper Tantrum'. "For Gaia's sake, it's a crime that the workers there can't even incorporate Banora Whites to create a simple, good dessert. Instead they have that Mako-green jello, which tastes like, pardon my language – shit."

Genesis looked peeved and felt as if he were a cast iron pot kept on the stove for a little too long. The jobs that were sent out for heroes like him were little more than disappointing. How he would love to spend the time now reading his LOVELESS book, without a care in the world on the balcony in his apartment, sipping Banora Grape wine as he de-codified every passage, like an archaeologist going on an excavation, discovering new meanings, new pieces to fit his existing jigsaw.

Unfortunately, he had an obligation to go to the mess hall instead.

"Calm down, Genesis. We do the same thing each recruitment period, you know how Lazard is," Angeal supplied helpfully, hoping to get rid of Genesis' apparent frustration which escalate quickly once it began to climb up the mountain. "He wants us to eat with the new recruits just once so they'll be motivated to try hard. It's only honourable we do it, we don't have much else to do. Imagine how they must feel, having to eat that food every day – if we can help them but a little by sticking with them through it, maybe they won't find it to be as bad."

"The only reason you can deal with it, 'Geal," Genesis began slowly, "is because last time, you met your dear puppy who is in all regards, a cadet you find once in a blue moon amongst all the worms. I'll tell you now," he said, facing Angeal, eyes narrowed, "we probably won't see another cadet like that for quite some time. No need to bet it all on this one meeting. And why," he started his tirade again after he just calmed down, "do we have to go to the mess hall? You do know I caught food poisoning there a few times at the least – the only one of us with a strong enough stomach to handle it is Sephiroth and you know it, 'Geal. Stop spouting out speeches of dreams and honour when our own digestive health is at stake!" He paused, "Not to mention it is a sure waste of time."

So that had been the issue, they thought dryly. The man probably read LOVELESS all night, discovered another new way of reading it and wished to continue now, but the obstacle included dealing with all the eyes which would indefinitely be on him if he entered the mess hall. The food just made him more irate.

Without even waiting for a response, he stormed off toward the dreaded mess hall to hopefully eat as little as possible before he filled himself up on his own time. Though he enjoyed being independent and not living back in Banora, to have to eat in a disgusting place which gave him a queasy stomach, which led to the occurrence of him acting in a completely undignified manner, remained out of the question. Genesis swore he could probably cook a better meal on his own and make it look ten times more presentable within an hour.

He remembered the amount of times he wrote, with his own two hands, complaints about the food served there and handed it in to a number of departments hoping to Minerva and praying on LOVELESS that they would change it soon – they didn't need any of those rare, talented cadets dying from poisoned food. However, the complaints never reached any particular head, as heads only listened to Genesis on military deals, after all.

And the small factor in which Shinra didn't have a Customer Service Department at all contributed to his failed customer complaints.

When asked, everyone would turn heads, point the asker to numerous locations, enough to start a treasure hunt or quest. In reality of course, people like him who went on those journeys far and wide across a figurative sea, and he, the pirate captain, expecting to find some kind of treasure, found nothing. The Customer Service Department which handled complaints seemed to be nonexistent, either that or located behind the vending machine on the first floor next to the receptionist.

To think, he wasted all that time when he could have been reading LOVELESS!

"He's just aggravated because of LOVELESS," Sephiroth explained, arms crossed, walking in a leisurely manner toward the elevator which Genesis tapped his foot in front of impatiently. "He always gets like this when he discovers new things about it and duty interrupts him." Indeed he did – making it a constant pattern to blow up at them over an unrelated manner when things were such. The man had a legendary short fuse. "But I also believe he has given up on finding any worthy cadets which has made that frustration of his escalate."

Genesis, he and Angeal had always been good friends. Sephiroth, others told him, had the emotional depth of a test tube, not much at all – the pun on all the Mako injections and experiments completed on him by Hojo was an intended one. But his two friends, he always managed to read at least somewhat accurately, Genesis more so since he wore his heart on his sleeve, like a passionate flame unwilling to burnt out – he turned his emotions into strength where others would have considered it weakness.

"You believe he wants to find someone to mentor?" Angeal questioned. "With his criteria, it's all but impossible. The man is far too picky."

Angeal on the other hand hid his emotions much more cleverly and often remained cool-headed, just like Sephiroth himself, though with much more care toward his peers and cadets in the program. He always wanted to be the ideal upperclassman that people would look up to. Sephiroth believed he accomplished that already and didn't realize it. Plenty looked up to him, many more wished they were Zackary Fair, his student.

"Better than mentoring someone who will never make it," Sephiroth answered him. "I don't believe he's looking for anyone, but is more frustrated by the lack of there being any choice. If he does find someone, I have no doubt he'll go about it and get that individual as his student. Genesis is like that, in denial that he will ever pick anyone to be his student, but if he finds someone worthy," both of them shared a look.

"He'll do anything to get them as a student," they both agreed.

They reached the elevator right when the doors opened and they entered behind Genesis who tapped the floor number a little too harshly, jamming it directly in. It would now probably stop at this floor first no matter what the next person clicked.

"Genesis, you do know that you've inconvenienced a vast amount of Shinra employees, correct?" Angeal said slowly watching the glowing button which remained happily jammed inside its slot, not coming out anytime soon.

"Shinra, or more specifically, Lazard, inconvenienced me by assigning this utterly useless job," Genesis retorted, leaning against the elevator wall. "And Shinra has the money to fix it anyway – no doubt the President's spawn burns it in his office fireplace all by himself. I mean, what other jobs does he get? I would be doing him a favour. The poor sap is probably bored."

Angeal sighed, Sephiroth remained tight-lipped and stoic as ever. Both wondered when their friend would decide to make way for the slightly less bratty Genesis.

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