I am soooo sorry for the late update! Projects and stuff got backed up and I was too tired to publish the next installment (forgive me...! T^T) But here it is, the next chapter of I'll Be Good! It might be a little rough since I haven't had time to scan through it, but I'll do that once things settle down ^^ do enjoy!
I do not own Final Fantasy VII.
In the days that followed, I struggled to keep a brave face and an even tougher front. When the sun rose the next day, I awoke with my eyes sore and body encompassed in the thickest sheets that were normally reserved for Eli's frail form. It was disorienting how the dawn's radiance glided through the window and danced gracefully upon the metalwork and sculptures that hung haphazardly on each corner. It was soothing, and at the same time irritating how each spot of light blinded me at every turn. When I moved to sit up, a hiss escaped as pain erupted from my scalp, a deep ache pounding against my skull as I poked and prodded the area for blood. For a few moments, I wondered how I got back home from the bar and was briefly sick to my stomach, thinking I may have partook of the liquor Tifa had sold. However, as I gazed upon the scraped I had on my palms, an even more wretched thought crossed my mind as the memories of last night's assailant come flooding back. I quickly pushed aside the sheets and was immediately calmed at the sight before me.
Eli was safe. The children were snuggly tucked into his sides and sleeping peacefully on the futon that was pulled from the bedroom down the hall if the scuffs on the floor were anything to go by. An off red quilt lay over them, Eli's legs hanging out in the open to brave the small chill flirting with his toes while the children lay warm and cozy, the Moogle doll cuddled in Kenji's arms. While the view would've warmed my heart in another life, it only served to bring upon more grief knowing this was only temporary.
They found me.
I believed for long time that I saw the last of the Don's men years ago. I believed with every cell in my body that I was free of him and his influence the minute that blade was pulled. I was nothing but garbage to them by then. I should've meant nothing to them now. I was just a slut, a plaything for them to enjoy and a warm body to bed whenever his hunt for a wife grew scarce. The shame I felt as I lay there tangled in his sheets was overridden by the pay that would come soon after. The absolute disgust was masked by the delicious smelling food I would bring to my brother the following morning with a smile upon my face, proud I was feeding his young teenage appetite like a mother would their child. No matter how many times I scrubbed myself raw to rid myself of the slime and filth, it was always gil that brought me back to the whore house in Wall Market, my body ready and able even though my mind was far from okay.
As much a morbid thought as it was, that knife freed me from my imprisonment. He never wanted to see me again. His men constantly tailed me, mocked me as I took the walk of shame back to my little hut in sector 7 and spitting profanities that would make a sailor blush. But at the time, I didn't care. Even as Eli dressed my wound and fought tears trying to get me to utter just one simple word, I smiled. Teeth stained with blood, pain in my eyes, but it was a smile nonetheless. A real, genuine expression of happiness. I lost my voice, my job, and knew we didn't have much money to live for the next two days, but I felt so free. I saw a glimmer of the night sky for the first time in my life, the small flickers of light that pierced through the smog and fires that ravaged over the wreckage, and I felt freer than I had in my entire existence.
As suddenly as it came, everything was gone in a puff of smoke. A dream ephemeral, leaving fleeting reminders of its presences hardly tangible.
Eli and the children awoke then, rubbing the sleep from their eyes and stumbling out of the futon with a clumsiness only morning could bring, and I smiled softly at the sight of their confused expressions. Their innocence was so endearing, I couldn't let them find out what I was dealing with. I couldn't risk their safety, no matter how apparent it was becoming. Even as Eli questioned me that morning and every day since then, I refused to give him a straight answer, a fear deep within me preventing the words from spilling through my eyes or onto the paper Eli left on the table. The notepad remained on the countertop, untouched and purposely overlooked. I wanted to keep their lives as normal as possible. Give them as much as I possibly could without giving into terror or the exhaustion I felt taking its slow toll.
The landlord gave us the week to come up with the rest of the rent money, and Eli once again brought up looking for a job himself.
"My geostigma isn't so bad anymore, Peps! And besides, we really need the cash!" He had fought tooth and nail that evening when I got back from my own job search. I was silently mopping up black puss from him and the children with a wet rag, Meri already finished up and Kenji observing with infantile curiously from the futon beside us, clutching his Moogle tightly in his bandaged arms.
The wince and sharp hiss that slipped from his lips was enough for me to put my foot down on the matter. 'You're obviously not well enough for ANY kind of work, Eli. You can barely keep your back straight for more than two minutes at a time before slouching like a Neanderthal.'
"Th-This doesn't mean anything!" He read the doubt in my eyes and turned towards me with a look of desperation, "Come on, Pepper. Why can't you let me do this? You can't take all of this by yourself…"
"We're gonna be on the street again…" I jumped a bit, surprised at the sadness and resignation soaking Meri's usual friendly and abrupt tone. She looked between us, her expression cold but her eyes holding the quiver of a frightened child. "Aren't we? I knew it was too good to be true…" Kenji looked at me with sadness on his sleeves.
With how much both kids came over and stayed, this might as well have been their home. I had no doubt they were orphaned after seeing them so often with no parents in sight. On most nights, as I returned home from a failed job search, I'd find them trying to take shelter in alleys or construction sights. It didn't matter the danger so long as they had somewhere to rest, and it worried me so, more than it should've. I loathed the idea of more mouths to feed when I realized there was no getting rid of them, but their presence somehow relaxed the otherwise heavy lonesomeness shared between Eli and me.
Meri was a strong girl, this I deduced the day we crossed paths, and this had shown more in the past few days she's been with us. She became less defensive the longer she stayed under our roof, sometimes helping Eli with chores whenever the task grew daunting. The little girl stuck to her younger sibling like glue, and protected him with a ferocity a Nibel wolf would envy. If it was time to clean his stigma, she would be there watching, holding him to her for comfort and snapping if he winced in the slightest. Kenji was a near opposite. Unlike his older sister who'd sooner snap at someone who came to close like a threated predator, Kenji's timidity kept him quiet. His stigma was more severe than Meri's, and such he couldn't do chores like his elder housemates without overexerting himself. He'd spend some days simply playing with his doll, or doing some little games Eli would bring out or come up with. As the days wore on, he became warmer, a lot more talkative than his elder sibling and so much sweeter. So much so, I was tempted to dote on him like my own child. These children slowly integrated into my life so seamlessly, I couldn't recall how it happened or how I got on without hearing them inside the house.
Eli and I shared a look then, concern written in our eyes but our countenances determined. We wouldn't let that happen.
"Don't worry guys," Eli grinned at them, teeth and all to set them at ease, "Peps and I won't give up without a fight. After all, you just got here!"
Meri looked doubtful, looking between us for any signs of deception whilst her brother seemed to take our words at face value. His brown eyes filled with hope in an instant, and the tiniest of smiles lit up his face like a lantern in the darkness. This fueled me. There was a ray of hope within this child that I couldn't let be extinguished. Even if I held no hope of my own didn't mean I had liberty to quench someone else's.
"…Okay," the little girl sighed, head hung low so her ponytails swung over her shoulders. She lifted her head and looked between us curiously, "But how are you gonna get a job?"
That was a question I couldn't answer that day or the days that followed. I woke up four days before the deadline tired and on the brink of defeat. Four days of asking around town, leaving the streets of Edge to scavenge the ruins of Midgar and work on whatever weaponry I could get a hold of, only to return just before nightfall with a heavy satchel filled with leftover scraps and the urge to fall asleep on my feet eminent. The wagon was pointless now that there was no pay for collecting anymore. There was no reason for me to lung it around, but just as I considered selling it for extra gil, the children took it upon themselves to play with it in my stead. The loud rusty clanging as it ran speedily over the rough street outside further pulled me from my slumber, their laughter seeming louder and more obnoxious than usual.
As if trying to combat against the cheerful gales, Eli sat on the steps, hunched over with a hammer in hand and a screwdriver by his knees as he fiddled with the broken door hinge our landlord refused to fix. He spent the previous days gathering the necessary tools after arguing heatedly about the cause of the break. If there was one thing my brother hated with a passion, it's being blamed for something he didn't do. Even I attempted to make the man see reason but the old miser was sure the rats from the slums were the cause. Eli wasn't strong enough to lift a laundry basket, let alone break down a door, and the wear and tear (despite having been recently built) was obvious. Eli's annoyed grunts as he pounded away at the door's frame was proof of his indignation after losing the fight. His stubbornness was the only thing that prevented me from doing the job myself.
Once you had Eli going, there was no stopping him. It was something menial, so I wasn't too concerned with overworking himself.
I sat up, rubbing the crust of sleep from my eyes and moving towards the bathroom to continue my daily routine. Looking the mirror, I wasn't surprised to see dark circles framing my eyes and my hair askew. I spent much of my days working on weapons for Corneo's men in the skeleton of Midgar, fingers blistered and cracked with blood, and wandering through Edge later in the evening hoping to find work. After which I'd come home with the children bathed and rebandaged, and a couch sheeted and ready to collapse into a fitful slumber. Shaking my hair out, I stepped into the shower to prepare for the day.
Taking a few moments longer under the warm spray, I exited feeling fresher than I had in days and dressed in a plain t-shirt and beige pants, holding a blue baseball cap under my arms in favor of letting my black tresses air dry in the cool air.
"Lunch is on the table!" the ruffled brunette shouted from the front door as I passed the kitchen. There on the counter sat a brown paper bag with a smiley face crudely draw in permanent marker. I grinned despite myself. Little tokens like this brightened my otherwise dreary week. When Eli took notice of my long absences, he made a bag lunch for me to take every day with his less than stellar cooking skills. It wouldn't have made a difference if I had made it myself considering my own talent in the kitchen being subpar, but the effort he put into waking up before me and crafting the most elegant PB and J he can manage was heartfelt, and I made sure he knew I appreciated his efforts.
A soft gust of wind, warm and pleasant on skin, blew through the open door and freshened the air inside. After grabbing a bulky jacket, I ahead towards the entry way, kneeling to press a kiss onto my brother's sweaty brow as he worked.
He stopped in his frustrations to spare a lively grin. The loftiness of the weather must've been doing him some good. The sun shone on his skin, lighting his typical pallor tone a golden hue, and he appeared in far greater spirits despite our circumstances.
"Heading out?" I gave a swift nod at his question and jumped at the cacophony of children's laughter echoing through the normally quiet cul-de-sac. Head shooting up in curiosity, I was met with strange sight, Eli following my eyes and his smile growing gentle. "That wagon of yours is getting popular. Word gets around pretty quick."
It was true. Amongst the rusted rattle of wagon wheels scratching against hard concrete were the happy shouts of five children, Meri and Kenji amid their numbers as they led their fellow youths with the pale red wagon. Meri was more than happy to pull her younger brother along and the other children seem content with chasing them, occasionally switching turns to pull the wagon in a continuous loop around the street. There was a hesitant, yet joy-filled smile on Kenji's face. Toys, those of the larger sort, were a rarity in Edge as such pleasantries were abandoned for more practical endeavors. I had no doubt that the wagon's popularity spread through word of mouth alone, and as much as the squealing wheels were grating to the ears, I decided we could live with it. So long as it kept that smile upon Kenji's face…
"Not sure if these guys are orphans too or not," Eli filled in the silence between us, looking at the two young boys and the little girl with them, "But they've been coming by a lot more lately. Kinda nice having some background noise around this place."
I nodded in return, finding the sounds of their cheer rather soothing. I have always a soft spot for children…
Feeling eyes raking me over, I looked down and was met with Eli's concern. While it was obvious, there was a slight crease in his brow and the light in his eyes dimmed slightly. I hoped I wasn't as ragged looking as I thought I was. The teenager had enough to worry about, I couldn't put my troubles onto his shoulders. With this thought, I smiled down at him, caring and true with my intentions despite the underlying exhaustion in my bones. He didn't look like he believed me, but nodded anyway, passing a reluctant smile of his own.
"Good luck, Peps," he said with forced enthusiasm, "Be safe, alright? Don't worry about us here. I've got things covered. Baths, medicine, I've got the list on the fridge and Meri to scold my ass if I forget."
We shared a quiet laugh at that, imagining the pushy child bossing around a teenage boy three times her size. I patted his shoulder one last time and took the short three steps away from the house, mind already walking the path into the city. Meri and Kenji spotted me leaving and shouted their farewells, the kids around them debating whether to do so as well for a woman they had never met. I smiled weakly and waved in return before turning the corner onto one of the main roads.
Edge appeared to be taking the sunny weather well. Everyone appeared to be in brighter spirits, talking energetically with one another as they skittered through the streets in groups of two or more on their way to work at various shops and construction sites. More children slipped around me, taking advantage of the pleasant sunshine to run amuck with their companions. I myself have felt lighter than I have in days. I felt no urge to shove through the monotonous rat race of people, or shoot my usual glares at rude passersby, content with strolling easily and nonchalantly through the crowd as I went over job listings in my mind.
When the streets became familiar, I broke from my thoughts and turned towards the bar in mild curiosity. The 7th Heaven wasn't due to open until five, but I was positive the bar maid within was already hard at work. Since first meeting Tifa, I found myself stopping by on more than one occasion for absent conversation each evening I returned from Midgar. She was an easy woman to talk to and an even easier distraction from the tumultuous troubles that loomed ever closer as the week began its slow close.
At all hours, I felt Corneo's men hovering over me; with every turn of my head I'd spot one or two men grinning menacingly in my directing or glowering with discontent, weapons glinting in the sunlight. It disturbed me, frightened me. My life was under their scrutiny and in their hands to toy with. Their eyes burned holes into my skin and stretched the very thin line of my sanity, to the point of severe paranoia. Escaping into Tifa's welcoming smile and cheerful ambience was a godsend. Though she perpetually worries over the wellbeing of Eli and me, I do my best to quell the anxiety in my heart and brush off the dark circles painted around my eyes with a small smile and hand-written reassurance. Whether it does the job or not, the buxom barmaid continues to take my words at face value, and asks nothing further. Visiting her on my way back home, weary and downtrodden, has been a sliver of normalcy I've come to treasure more than I ever thought it would. I wouldn't call her a friend per say; there was still so much we had to learn from each other and far too many secrets on my end to become remotely close to another human being, let alone a young woman I had only met the week prior. However, I find the budding acquaintanceship soothing, enough to find myself drifting by the bar on my strolls to Midgar from time to time, and dropping in for a free water and chat.
Through the trickling stream of bodies, I instinctively looked towards the 7th Heaven, a habited I've come to develop in the hopes of spotting Tifa through the glass panes of her front windows. What I saw instead was both curious and oh so recognizable.
The little boy looked as if the weight of the world was bearing down upon his shoulders, back slumped and brown tresses obscuring his face, though I knew his focus was entirely fixated on the concrete below his feet. He looked well taken care of, clothes neat and tidy and matching the mixture of dull sepias, browns, blacks and whites of the citizens of edge with only a few scuffs from I could only blame on childish horseplay. Though it seemed the playful air and bright sunniness infecting those around him held no sway over the dark cloud hovering above his head. He sat on the stoop of the bar as if it were simply his place. I had never met any of the children Tifa had taken into her care, but my heart went out to the child regardless. He seemed so recluse, his name Denzel I recalled the night before in a brief but fulfilling conversation with the bartender, and without a single thought, I approached the child slowly.
Feeling both his personal space and thoughts intruded upon, Denzel's head shot up and he glared fierce. Such a look didn't suite him, that much I've gathered from the way he struggled to keep it in place. I withheld the urge to chuckle as it slowly weakened into a small pout, knowing it would only make him more apprehensive and upset, and reached into the crudely made lunch I held in my grip.
I kneeled before him and placed the apple juice box from my lunch by his side. Denzel's expression was one of surprise and suspicion, though I didn't stay long enough to see if he took the hand out as I wiped the condensation from my hands.
Dispersing the child from my mind, I continued across the connecting bridge between Edge and the skeletal ribs of Midgar, walking along the sliver of sidewalk and tipping my cap to avoid the smoke and carbon flowing from the vehicles that sped by. The journey was never a long one, shortcuts already deciphered and half the city itself leveled to the lower slums. The upper plates were crushed under the weight and might of Meteor, the heat from the falling rock melting away what gravity couldn't accomplish.
A dark chuckle slipped past my lips as I stood before the gravel covered roads leading towards Sector 5. It was poetic. Most who lived beneath the rotting plates held dreams of seeing the sunrise and set, of seeing the wide blue skies spoken of in urban myths. Rarely ever did anyone accomplish those wild fantasies, and many of those who couldn't escape the Catastrophe's wrath never will, their souls fully immersed in the Lifestream. Watching as the sun baked earth and clay I knew never witnessed a bright sunny morning since its creation was stupefying at first. Confusing and frightening all at once. I never knew much about the top plates, but as a child, I've always longed to reach the very top of the scaffoldings that divided us from the rest of society. The sky was never on my mind then, for I always believed it to be unattainable. To wishful a thought, a dream that only comes true through slumber. But reaching the next plate, the upper levels where starlets fluttered about graced in gems and food was plentiful, that was something possible. That was something I could obtain, for Eli and me both.
But Eli had bigger dreams than that. He saw something I couldn't see. He saw through the smog and his eyes caught something much more precious.
"Hey…, do you remember that dream we made?"
"Dream…?"
"Yeah! When we were kids? That dream?"
"You can't make dreams, you dope," soft laughter, "It doesn't work that way."
"Well we made this one!" He grinned softly and turned his gazed towards the steel ridges that loomed over us, "That dream we made to see the outside world. To see what's really up there."
I bowed my head in thought and shook my head warily, brows pinched in thought, "… Not really… It was so long ago…"
"We said we'd make it there… all the way to the top. I say we'll make it to the top and past the stars and then some. We said we'd make it there together. Through our dreams, we can make it there…" The smile he spared was one of genuine wonder and confidence, one I could I never forget.
"Remember?"
'I guess technically we made it…,' I sighed thoughtfully, heading further into Sector 5, "All that's left is through the stars and then some.'
There was a dilapidated building just a short walk away, one of few that survived the carnage years back and still holding strong. Slipping through the open archway, I marched up the stairs with caution, avoiding broken steps and loose two by fours by muscle memory alone. It was a trusty thing, once serving as a temporary shelter for Eli and me shortly after Meteorfall and still standing on its foundation, even if by the skin of its teeth. The ceiling had caved in and let the ever-glorious sunlight spill through the openings and bathing the walls in a soft luminous glow. Dust danced and fluttered through the bright rays, twirling about and pushed with the occasional gust of wind who wanted to joy in their frivolous ballroom excursions.
I held in a breath as I reached the top floor, eyes closed and body slowly approaching exhaustion. Dropping my lunch bag by the steps, I wandered over to the far corner and situated myself amongst the gathering of scrap metal and rusted weaponry I left the day prior. Guns, blades, empty magazines and shells, these were scattered about during organized chaos and waiting to be tampered with. Days filled with tinkering and modifying with what resources I could gather, my hands had a mind of their own; automatically sorting through the mess of rust and silver, and putting together what weapons I could within minutes.
Hours were spent like this. The process was mind numbing and mechanical, but always soothes my flaming tempers whenever they flared at the worst of times. My brother and I always questioned where we received our talent from; where we learned the difference between iron and steel, copper and bronze, we never knew. It was simply there, manifested from within our minds as though it were there since birth, an inert trait passed down to us from whatever bastard thought to conceive us. We've always had a child-like fascination with engineering and mechanics, but I myself seemed more drawn towards things that spit gunpowder. Ash and soot, my fingers were always dirtied in some shape or form back then. A part of me felt safe working with things that killed, that took lives away a simple slip of the trigger. It was comforting knowing that when it came down to facing one head on, I knew how to take it apart. To rip it from its handler and break it with ease. That I tore a million of its kind to pieces and scavenged through innards in twisted fascination.
I was stronger than it. Stronger than something.
Just as the sun fell low and delightful rays of yellow began to bleed a deeper crimson, the roaring of an engine shook the building on its foundation. I ducked from bits of dry wall and dust, shuffling over to the window to once again spare a glance at the black blur that often sped past unrelenting. It was becoming very common place, seeing the same black blob cruise through the wreckage, rutting a deep groove into the dirt each day it came and I found myself slightest bit curious. I never met the rider themselves nor dared to leave the safety of whatever apartment I caged myself in. I believed it once to be one of Corneo's men, stalking like animals starved of their prey. But then the evening would grow quiet, no loud slams of doors or terrible guffaws reverberating from the entrances and no cocking of guns. An eerie hush would fall over the scene and I reluctantly return to work as if never interrupted.
This day, the engine sounded gurgled, loud popping spitting into the air as the rider struggled to regain control. Standing carefully and brushing grease onto my jeans, I ventured downstairs and glanced further out the broken doorframe. A breathy curse (so it IS a male…) left the driver as he drifted to a stop, pulling over to the side and angling himself off the bike. He was dressed all in black, a long sleeve covering his left arm and coat tails reaching his heels, black boots, and a turtle neck unzipped at the collar. A black clothed hand shuffled through his wild spikes of hair, the only brightness amongst the funeral-like attire; yellow and luminescent against the reds of the setting sun, and a shake of his head foretold his frustration.
'It sounds like a spark-plug misfire…' I think to myself, shifting my gaze from the man to the beast that sat cooling in the shade. It was a motorcycle, that much I could gather, but everything about this mechanical monstrosity was a mystery. A custom-made beauty, long and sleek with tires big enough to crush a behemoth's skull with a couple blows and a single headlight cold and dim. The blonde fiddled with the engine one last time before shutting it off completely, shaking his head and kneeling to check what had his bike so out of sorts.
I watch for another few moments, simply gazing at the back of his head as if entranced. I wanted to get closer to the bike itself. It was crying, calling out for help when its master could provide none, and my heart ached at the sight. It bled profusely for the injured beast with a thorn stuck in its paw, and swiftly carried my legs up the staircase once more, only coming down when managing to procure a remedy for its ailment.
I exited the building with a churning stomach and racing heart. It was obvious from the build of the man, despite being a tad shorter than most men I met in the past, that he knew his way around a fight. Broad shouldered and well-muscled with a strong, sturdy gait. Only a few feet away and yet he turns to face me, as if he had already sensed my presence and chose to ignore it until now. I get a full view of his face and felt my cheeks reddening under his gaze. Only a fool couldn't see he was a handsome man, paler than I expected for someone who seemed to have made the roads his home and eyes that held a faint glow, making his blues bluer than even the sky's endless hue.
'A SOLDIER…,' I swallowed but kept my steps steady and secure. I heard stories of the elite fighting force once before; from the children of the slums and passerby here and there, but I had never seen one in person. Eli had once dreamed of becoming SOLDIER in another life as most boys do. The swordfights, the glory, the fame; it attracted him like flies to honey and I willing let him do so as he pleased. Dreams were meant to be just that; dreams, visions that plagued the mind and remained deep within the recesses of our hearts, never to surface. Meeting one now though, and so long after Shin Ra's collapse and slow rebuild, that wondrous fountain of imaginings my brother spoke so fondly was starting to drift into nightmarish territory.
The blonde stranger gave me a curious look but didn't speak a word. A small woman like me in the middle of the slums was unusual, but not uncommon. Many tend to wander here and there, whether like ghosts haunting the ruins of their beloved city or searching with purpose what could be salvaged from their home. Whatever the case, I wasn't a threat to him, but his eyes remained skeptical and aloof, a guard solidified by years of experience.
I met his gaze, and when I held out my hand, his eyes followed and fell into a mixture of confusion and slight relief.
Spark plugs weren't always easy to come by in the slums, so I fell into a habit of scavenging them from old cars and trucks. Granted I had none of my own, not even a license or registration to my name, but it was an urge I couldn't shake. I liked the feel of them in my hand and the constant thought of 'this may come in handy someday' was unrelenting.
Eli would like to chalk it up to being a hoarder of some kind, but I digress.
There were a little rusted and weathered from disuse, three different sizes but I figured the man would know what part he would need for his ailing beast. Motorcycles, especially custom-made beauties like this one obviously needed unique care and maintenance.
Still rather hesitant, the blonde reaches out and pulls one of the larger plugs from my palm and nods his head in appreciation, "Uh… thanks…" His voice is a low tenor, quiet and breathy as if talking was foreign to him.
I gave one of my own, a small smile curling my lips before turning back to my workshop up the road.
The beast purred like a kitten when I left.
"Here ya go," I stared surprised at the chilled glass of water that was placed down, and gave the barmaid an inquisitive brow.
"It's just water," Tifa chuckled at my expression and returned to her ritualistic cleaning of dirty glasses and counters, "On the house. You look worn out, so I thought I'd take pity." The words themselves were callous, but the smile behind them had me sinking deeper into my seat, hands steaming against the cold surface of the cup.
'Tell me about it…,' I thought with a biting edge, taking a few grateful sips and combing through my tangled locks, weary and in desperate need of a shower. I returned to Edge later in the evening, fingers sore and body covered in grease as I entered the bar in hopes of speaking to the black clad woman behind the counter. Once again, she greeted me with a welcoming smile and patted a spot at the counter while she attended her other patrons. We spoke little; or rather, I wrote nothing and simply watched as Tifa fluttered about the bar, caring for customers and refilling glass tankards with ease. It didn't feel right to interrupt her on days like this, when the tables were filled and I was lucky enough to score a seat away from blushing men and boisterous company. I felt content to watch her work, almost as numbing a sport as tinkering with machines that sent me down a slow slope into tranquility. Only then did I realize when the brunette dropped a chilled glass of liquid refreshment that the bar had emptied and it was well into the morning hours. I found myself doing this more often than I liked; gazing off into space and teetering the fence between daydreams and deep slumber. The bags beneath my eyes grew heavier as nights went by and bled into early morning with no break in between, and I knew it was only a matter of time (or until my face planted into Tifa's freshly polished counters from exhaustion) before the busty barmaid would notice this.
Perhaps I spoke too soon…
Tifa hummed in contemplation, looking me over with such a critical eye I felt my whole life lay bare for her to see. She scanned my clothes, the raggedness of my hair and the awkward grin I gave to deter her and pondered accusingly, "You know… You always come back here drenched in black oil. Are you sure you're just job hunting?"
Water nearly shot from my mouth and I quickly swallowed what I could, a mess dripping through my fingers as I struggled to come up with a good enough answer. It wasn't the first time she had asked something akin to suspicious inquiry about my days through Edge, but it always startled me how easy I was to read. I knew I needed to start cleaning up before I came to her, but I knew that once I made it home and took the much sought after hot shower that I wouldn't want to leave until the next morning. My attempts on the walk over here were pathetic, I knew, but I had hoped she'd overlook a few splotchy stains here and there. I cleaned as best as I could on short notice, figuring a few grease stains here and there would be passable under Tifa's scrutiny.
Clearly, I needed to do a better job.
'I may have gone into the slums after I was finished,' It wasn't the whole truth but it was close enough to it that the barmaid slowly nodded in understanding, her guard dropping somewhat, 'Eli is always asking for more metal to play around with and I kept a couple pieces for myself. Mostly engine parts.'
"Figures," she sighs affectionately with a tired smile pulling her lips, laying one last glass into the top cupboards before dropping her rag into the sink, "You two are regular grease monkeys, aren't you?"
I laughed silently, shaking my head and quickly responding in chicken scratch, 'I wouldn't say that. It was just something we picked up in the slums when we were kids. Nothing special.'
"Nothing special, huh?" Tifa held her arms akimbo and gave me a stern once over, "You really have to stop counting yourself short so much. You've got more potential than you think, I just know it."
'Nah, you've got way too much faith in us, Tifa,' I responded with a casual wave of my hand, 'Tinkering was more of a hobby than anything. Kept us busy and out of trouble for the most part. Still does.'
"What do you do with those engine parts anyway?" she wondered, tilting her hip slightly and cocking a brow, "Are you even old enough to drive?" Tifa said snidely with a playful smirk toying her lips as I gave her an annoyed scowl.
'Don't be a cow, Tifa. I'm 22 and you know it! Just because I don't look my age…' I stopped and nearly chucked my pencil at her as she held her stomach in mirth, laughter leaving her lips freely and uninhibited. It was a constant thing for her to tease at my youthful appearance, one that I never took much offense to but easily grated on the nerves whenever the opportunity arose for it to be mentioned. I let her have her fun and slapped her arm with the notepad with a scowl, writing in bold letters. 'BITCH.'
"O-Okay okay, sorry! It's just… you're so easy to tease!" Tifa shakes her head and takes a few moments to collect herself before speaking again, a smile still on her lips, "So… the engine parts?"
I sigh, 'Well, I don't really know. It's more of a bad habit than an actual need. Growing up, I'd steal old parts from clunkers and people who pissed me off. Collected them more as trophies than anything before putting them to good use. Sooner or later, it just became habit. Call me a klepto of car parts. I liked learning to take things apart as much as I liked putting them together, so eventually I started learning more about cars and trucks and all that, but I guess the habit kinda stuck.'
"Well there's something! Why not be a mechanic? With Edge growing the way it is, it's going to be in high demand," she gave an encouraging grin, "A mechanic in Edge is just what everyone needs."
I rose a brow. 'I'm pretty sure I saw 3 mech shops on the way here.'
"Yes, but not all of them have a pretty girl at the helm," Tifa winked with a smile, and truthfully her words put a lot in perspective. It was a possibility, a pretty good one.
But…
… 'So, what? You're my pimp now?'
The brunette laughed and shook her head, "I'm being serioius! It's a good job and you're good at it!"
'I'm just… not so sure, Tifa. Doesn't that need permits and crap? Not to mention I'd need a translator, a place, start-up cash… and I honestly don't think I'm that good. I just tinker, Tifa. I'm not anything special, you know tha-'
"Now that's enough of that!" Tifa slapped her fist against the counter, reading over what I had and stopping before I wrote anymore. I dropped my pencil and stared at her in surprise, the heat of her gaze somewhat frightening. "You need to stop selling yourself short, Pepper. You can't just give up on something because it's too hard, too much money, or you think you're inadequate. Just be yourself, despite your handicap and everything will fall into place. No more griping, and no more demoting yourself. Any more of this and I'll start to think you're hanging around…" She drifted off, her eyes going distant and she bit her lip as if to hold back any more words from escaping. She shook her head, "N-Never mind… um… what was I saying?"
This happened more and more lately. Whenever she mentioned that man, a coming and going vagabond that's been leaving more than he's been staying as of late, Tifa would lose some of her fire and quickly change the subject to something mundane. It worried me; I had come to think of Tifa as a good acquaintance, a spirited young woman who had experienced far too much hardship to carry alone and yet she remained standing strong and tall. To think a single man could bring this much concern and cripple this pillar to its knees… it pissed me off more than I thought it would.
'You should just kick him out.'
The words were blunt but gazing into my eyes, Tifa could see the annoyance and ire building within and shook her head with a joyless laugh.
"I… I can't do that," the brunette responded, smiling weakly through her exhaustion, "I really can't. We've gone through so much together, with all that's happened and… we're all we have, Pepper… I just… can't stand the thought of him leaving us. I'm just so worried about him and he never answers his phone and rarely drops by. Denzel and Marlene, they're both wondering where he's gone and why, and he's taking so many deliveries, I'm starting to think he's doing this on purpose…"
Surprising myself in more ways than one, I reached out and touched her hand left cold on the freshly wiped counter, stopping her rambling with a sarcastic smirk and a sincere nod. I may not have understood the deeper meaning that lay hidden behind her waterfall of words, but I felt no need to pry. Only a kinship, a calm mutual understanding. Of only having that one special person you could count on, who understands you more than anyone ever could. Who's been with you through every trial and those to come… whoever this man was to Tifa, he was her lifeline. Someone she couldn't stand to lose. So, having him sever that connection, to leave her in the dark like this, it must have her worried to pieces.
I know that pain far too well.
Tifa lifted her gaze towards mine, wine meshing with chocolate and swallowed a giggle, squeezing my hand and returning with a smile knitted in gratitude.
'Forget I said anything then,' I wrote calmly and turned the pad towards her with a gentle smile, 'Why not keep trying then? He'll have to pick up eventually. Or maybe he already has.'
"Oh yeah…? You think so?" she pondered aloud, eyes drifting to the floor in thought. Hope was thinly veiled in her expression.
I smirked. 'Well yeah. He's got two choices. He could listen to each message as they come in, or have them flood his inbox until they get mixed in with his work calls. Which, I guarantee, will piss him off in the long run.'
The brunette shook with mirth and wiped her eyes. Whether they were of tears of joy or sadness, I could care less. At least I got her to laugh.
"I-I guess you have a point," she giggled and sighed, flicking a strand of hair over her shoulder, "Cloud wouldn't like that much. He's… not that patient." Something about that name caught my attention. 'I don't think I've heard anyone with a name like that, especially not a full-grown dude…'
'Cloud's his name?'
"Oh yeah! Guess I never told you, huh?" she leaned on the counter appearing bashful.
'Not like it was important. Kind of a weird name though,' I shrugged nonchalant, allowing the image of a fluffy white monstrosity of a man juggle in the recesses of my mind. A funny picture, I'm willing to admit. Wonder what a guy with a name like 'Cloud' is like? Certainly not as flamboyant as his namesake.
"And Pepper isn't?" she smirked.
I gazed at the notepad, thoughts slightly muddled and wrote slowly.
'Only name I got.'
