A/N: Wow, thank you so very much for the response! I'm glad people are liking the idea behind this collection. It's definitely been fun writing it so far. Hope you all will continue to join me in my nerdiness! Lol. jkjk.

You know the drill. Read, learn a new word, enjoy and review! Thanks!

Disclaimer: I realized I forgot to do this in my last chapter and I'm too lazy to go back to add it, so I'm putting it here. Final Fantasy VII, Advent Children, and whatever else I might mention from that universe belongs to Square Enix. I really own very little. Even credit of the chapter titles go to Dictionary-dot-com.


WORD OF THE DAY (9/19)

Misprize

Vt. 1. To hold in contempt 2. To undervalue.

In the two years between the Meteor and the Geostigma crises, Tifa had grown accustomed to people constantly asking her why.

The subject of such questions often varied along a large spectrum, and the gravity of such was equally diverse.

There were those questions regarding her lifestyle, like why she chose to open a bar of all things. Why she cut her hair, and sometimes, people even questioned why she tied herself down with two children when she was in the prime of her life.

Her answers to these types of questions also differed greatly depending on whom the questioner was and under what circumstances such queries were posed. But, more often than not, she'd simply laugh and say "because I wanted to."

Then there were those questions that strike a chord of nausea in the pit of one's stomach, those questions that sends shivers of discomfort through one's spine, those questions that pierce straight to the heart of one's motives.

Those questions that asked her why she waited for a man who seemed to care only for his debts of the past. Why she didn't despise a man who would take advantage of her kindness and thus misprize her. Why she could sacrifice so easily and care so deeply.

Always asking why.

If there was one thing these questions did do for her, it was that it honed her skills of avoiding a clear answer when she did not desire to reveal that particular aspect of her life to that particular person.

Of course, this didn't mean that she always had an answer, or if she did, she would often just smile that mysterious little smile that bordered on poignant content and satisfied resignation. Maybe she thought that no one else would understand. Or maybe she didn't know either.

Whatever the case, she'd learned long ago not to allow her mood to be depressed by any question people might pose, no matter how sharp a pang it left in her heart. She fervently believed that her trust was not misplaced, nor was her heart.

And so several years later, when the world had returned to a state of quasi-peacefulness—as peaceful as any world filled with fallen people can get—and there were no longer any apocalypses to avoid; when he looked at her with those piercing blue eyes filled with an emotion too strong to be described with words from across the church; when his awe-filled and somewhat disbelieving gaze questioned her soundlessly as to why she had chosen him even though he was so undeserving and had hurt her so much in the past…her response was predictable.

She smiled brightly at him as each step brought her closer to the altar and her groom. There was no mystery, no hidden motive, no convoluted reasoning. Her answer was simple, as it always had been.

Because I wanted to.