Chapter Three: Tabula Rasa

"Mother!"

Tifa shot up in bed, covering her mouth in disdain, while ripping the covers away. Ever since they'd buried Cloud, about two weeks ago, she'd been having these disturbing dreams. One that kept repeating was that, instead of the orphans, Kadaj and his brothers kidnapped her. They infected her with Jenova's cells; a great deal of it. They restrained her, treating her again and again with black water and Mako injections. Finally, it would all overwhelm her, and she would break, giving into mental death. After that, the Remnants were no longer her captors or tormentors. They were her brothers, and they were counting on her. She was their eldest sister, and she knew what she had to do. But always, despondency would enslave her in the dream's last moments. Like her brothers, she didn't really know where Mother might be…she was letting them down…

Swinging her feet over the edge of the bed, Tifa cursed, and lightly slapped both of her cheeks. For one, she'd never, ever do anything like that. She'd gladly die before becoming a willing Jenova puppet. Two, her subconscious mind was apparently in need of a long-overdue reality check, because even amongst her most intimate and embarrassing longings, that was certainly not one of them. Realistically, in dealing with both Cloud's passing and the search for a solution to the new Geostigma crisis, some dark, horrified corner of her mind simply felt pressured to offer surrender as a viable option. Deep down, a part of her wanted to believe that all the battles were his, and that with his passing, they'd just stop. He was dead. Game over, right? Tifa groaned in severe distaste. How naive. A heavy day of training should help her sort that out, she believed.

A languid stretch later, Tifa stood and dressed. She was up for a special challenge today, she decided, taking First Tsurugi from the corner of her room, and donning its cloth sheath on her back. When she saw herself in the mirror, she did a slight double-take. With the sword, in her peripheral vision, she could have sworn that Cloud's image had reflected back instead. Looking directly at herself, nothing was out of place, but she gently touched the mirror's surface just to be sure.

"Don't worry, Cloud," she softly whispered. "I'll be alright." As long as she wasn't severely delusional, that is. So long as the delusions remained slight and reassuring like this, it wasn't a problem. There was nothing wrong with remembering him so vividly.

Feeling foolish, yet awkwardly comforted, she left for the Midgar wastes. Over the past week, she'd tested her capability with the fusion swords in a training room she and Cloud had built in the back of Seventh Heaven. Handling the weapon proved not impossible, but something akin to a complex dance; one that constantly changed depending on what was being thrown her way. She managed to avoid the self-injury she'd feared, but there were several gashes and holes in the training room's walls that needed repaired now. Confident that she could at least best a few lesser monsters, Tifa sought out live prey today. If she happened to slice a few boulders in half in the process, no one would complain.

When she finally reached the barren plain, Tifa inhaled deeply, closing her eyes to dim her senses for the moment. On the way here, she'd pretended that she was simply running an errand. That's right—she was just taking the swords to be cleaned or sharpened. Lies. She was here to use them. She was here to find out if she was ready to fight a real battle with them. Some poor, Mako-mutated fiend would be cut clean in half if all went as planned. If not, at worst, she'd simply have to drop the weapon and put the creature out of its misery the old fashioned way, with her fists and feet.

Eyes still shut, Tifa loosened her mind from her false comforts. Instead, she focused on the delicate sounds of nature. The gusting wind, the scrape of tumbleweed and dust, the subtle flap of birds' wings, and most of all, she listened in for an interruption in those routine workings. She listened in closely for thumping paws, scratching claws, snapping teeth, growling and snarling; anything that would alert her to the presence of a monster willing to pick a fight.

Sparing little time, the sound soon emerged as quick, shuffling, feline paws running up from behind, accentuated by light, hungry panting. In a quick, fluid motion, she drew First Tsurugi, and turned to face the oncoming predator. From the unreserved way it pounced down on her position, she knew she must have looked defenseless to it. It was a huge, Mako-infected cat, complete with unsightly tentacles protruding from between its eyes and ears. Strong jaws and sharp teeth snapped for her neck, but Tifa managed to block the pounce, forcing the beast to clamp down on the blade instead. The force of the impact reverberated down through the blade, allowing her to feel what kind of strength the monster possessed. She wasn't expecting something this ferocious around here, but it was too late to back down now.

Tifa's pulse spiked, on the receiving end of an adrenaline burst. With a harsh jerk, she freed the sword from the cat's mouth, slicing its jaws, eliciting a feral snarl of protest. The wound was superficial, however, only serving to infuriate it further. Three tentacles flailed forward, stinging her shoulder, and light ochre ooze dripped from the point of contact. Leaping back, Tifa assumed a more defensive stance, and separated the swords.

Although stronger than she'd anticipated, it was just a basic Mako mutant. She didn't expect the beast to be able to leap nine feet into the air and over her head, but it did. Landing, a sharp claw that grew from the end of its prehensile tail gouged into the back of her left calf. A pained shriek escaped her throat, and she turned back on the monster, a swift hack separating the tail from the rest of its body. Her leg throbbed as she tried to maneuver, weighed down by the heavy appendage that was still firmly lodged in her thick, torn muscle.

The cat came after her with swiping paws next, intent on mauling her to death. Swift, the monster kept her so preoccupied with blocking and parrying that she could hardly find space to land an offensive blow. Sweat beaded on her forehead and neck, dripping down her face and back. This fight was turning out to be a tough one, enough to scare her a little. It had been far too long since her last sincere, to-the-death fight, and her formerly sharp reflexes had decayed considerably. But that was exactly why she was out here, sparring with the ugly creature.

Tiring, the feline monster backed off for a few seconds, pacing, looking for a weak spot, licking its chops and baring its fangs. Relief washed over Tifa—finally, an opening to attack! Ignoring her own fatigue, she mimicked the cat, pouncing forward, lunging at it with both swords. One missed, only barely clipping the fiend's ears and tentacles, while the other found a bloody, sinewy home in its front leg. Frustrated with her failure in precision, Tifa stood her ground, and plunged the free blade down through the beast's spine, cutting through to puncture a lung as well.

Big mistake.

Too concentrated and eager to end the cat's life, she didn't notice that, just as the sword punctured its back, it had sunk its teeth into her good leg, assailing a sensitive pressure point. When the monster collapsed, Tifa fell to her knees as well, her hands slipping and sliding in pools of blood left in the battle's wake. Pain that she'd been able to endure or shut out only seconds ago rushed in, and she dropped the fusion swords, rolling onto her back to take the pressure off of her injured legs.

Slowly, agonizingly, she sat up to inspect the wounds. The right calf was easy enough to take care of. A tightly bound strip of cloth, torn from her pants leg, served as a sufficient bandage. The other leg was more complicated. The cat's tail was still very much embedded by a hook-shaped claw. Obviously, she couldn't just leave it in there, but pulling it out would doubtless prove excruciating, not to mention how much blood she might lose.

That left her with one choice, and she hated to do it. Begrudgingly, Tifa unveiled a restorative materia. Materia, which would pull life energy from the Planet to the mend the deep injuries in her legs. A necessary evil, as long as there were battles to be fought, she reasoned. Yet, there was a reason she and the others had abandoned materia use for the most part. It wasn't nearly as heinous or greedy as Mako reactors, but it was the same in concept, stealing the Planet's energy for convenience's sake. And right now, dying of blood loss from sparring with a common Mako mutant was not convenient at all!

Having struggled so hard to defeat such a basic monster left her embarrassed, even though no one was around to witness the humiliating scene. Involuntary tears broke from her eyes as she pried the tail out, casting it angrily aside. The gouge bled heavily, so she drew upon the materia's power right away, reducing the potentially fatal puncture to an itchy red spot. If it had been Cloud in this fight, Mr. Kitty would have been dead in a single, well-executed slash, regardless of its pre-emptive advantage.

Only now did it occur to Tifa that maybe Cloud had been going easy on her. The weapons they normally sparred with were relatively light in comparison to First Tsurugi, and aside from Cloud himself, the targets were never live. Finally confident that she could walk again, Tifa stood, collected both halves of the weapon, and began her shameful march back toward Edge. She was neither weak nor unskilled in battle, but she was certainly not ready to fight exactly as he had. This was a lesson in humility, she concluded. Even a fight with something "easy" could easily be forfeit in overconfidence. Just because she could have snapped the fiend's neck in two seconds as a martial artist didn't mean she could switch over to swordsmanship and expect the same results.

The problem with her normal fighting style was that it left her relatively defenseless…defenseless to a six foot blade in the hands of an expert wielder…completely open…

Tifa shuddered violently. Was it really going to come to that? She hoped not, because it would take at least a few more years of training before she'd even begin to fantasize about winning that kind of fight. Frankly, she didn't want to have to think about it at all. Ever. Dragging her feet numbly down the alleyways of Edge, Tifa didn't notice the fresh tears that had leaked from her eyes, this time from sheer mental exhaustion. But as she lazily stumbled into her empty bar, and pushed herself up the stairs, the wall suddenly turned into her closest confidant.

"Cloud…" She whimpered, resting her hands and forehead against the cool, white surface.

The scent of blood and dirt wafted into her nostrils then, and she blinked back her grief. She needed a shower. And then, she'd need to start thinking about a plan. Going head to head with Jenova's monsters as Cloud had wasn't going to work for her. If she was left with no other choice in the end, she'd give it her all, but it probably wouldn't end well. Tifa admitted that she needed help to fight this one. As much as he tortured himself for it, Cloud always made the better lone wolf.


Reeve dialed Tifa's number for the third time. Of all the times for her to be unable to answer, now was probably the worst. Something they'd been looking for, but incredibly unusual had transpired at the W.R.O.'s orphanage in Kalm, where he currently was. No one was dead or dying, thankfully, for once. But for what was going on, he needed another's opinion; preferably someone good with kids. Tifa was excellent with children. She and Cloud had practically allowed their home to become a makeshift orphanage when the first Geostigma outbreak was at its peak.

"Tifa! It's Reeve….I know this is on short notice, but I need you to come to Kalm…Yes, the orphanage…Well, it's hard to explain. Better that you see for yourself…A monster attack?...That's unfortunate. Are you alright?...Good, good. I'll be waiting here."


For all the doubts Tifa harbored about the W.R.O., this was one thing she approved of unconditionally. The orphanage was probably the most upscale building in Kalm. A large, lush, green, fenced-in yard, complete with a huge playground surrounded a house that was just shy of a mansion in size. It blended in well with its surroundings, though, made of the same cream-colored drywall and deep brown wood, with the same design and shape as all the other buildings. A small group of little ones ran by, chasing each other around, giggling and screaming in play, barely noticing her presence.

"You're it!"

"Nuh-uh! You cheated! Cheater! Cheeeater!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not! Come on…"

Tifa hoped it wasn't too obvious what a rough day she'd already been having. Around children, she preferred to keep a cool, serene, collected air, especially with orphans. Few kids in Gaia were clueless to the dangers lurking around them, given the past several years, but that didn't give grown-ups like her a green light to be anything but strong for them. They needed to know, or at least have the right to hope, that someone would be there to chase the monsters and bad guys away. Or if nothing else, that someone would try.

She continued to watch them as she rang the doorbell, basking in the emotional reprieve they unknowingly gave her. Her fried nerves calmed, reminded that beyond the tiresome fighting and loss, there was still something good left. Even in his darkest depression, Cloud had loved the children they'd briefly cared for. Tifa couldn't help but feel downcast at the thought. There was no use in wondering what kind of family they might have raised anymore. It was simply not to be, no matter how easy it might be to imagine.

A husky matron in her mid-fifties finally answered the door, eying Tifa—dark clad and scratched up-in mild suspicion. "May I help you, miss?"

Tifa smiled slightly, cautiously initiating eye contact with the woman. "Mr. Tuesti asked me to meet him here. Has he stepped out?"

"Oh! How rude of me! Thank heavens—you must be that Lockhart woman he was prattling on about. Please, please, follow me. I hope you're as much help as he was saying you'd be, because I just don't know what to make of our newest resident. He's so….so odd…and, of course we want to help him. Of course we do, just like the other sprouts…." the woman spoke animatedly, but way too fast for coherency.

Tifa politely nodded and entered, more curious for the old lady's rapid-fire chatter. What kind of strange side project had Reeve suddenly taken an interest in here? Whatever it was, no one seemed particularly frightened; a little distressed and confused, maybe. It was more like they were trying to solve a complex puzzle, and decided somewhere along the way that she'd be the perfect person to figure it out.

Up a flight of cherry oak stairs, and down a soft, red carpeted hall, Tifa trekked behind the bubbly matron, occasionally catching the sneaky stares of the youngest children. A young boy restrained his toddler sister when she giggled in delight, and tried to chase after Tifa on all fours, lured in by the long fish-tail of hair at her back.

"No, we're not a-posed' to go down to the room!" He whined, becoming more agitated when the girl let out a shrill wail.

The matron turned aside then, prying the kids apart. "Now, now. There's no need to handle her so harshly…Ms. Lockhart, go on ahead. Mr. Tuesti is waiting in the last room."

"Alright. Thank you…" Tifa smiled warmly, amused. In spite of the matron's bulky carriage and strong, bellowing voice, the kids really seemed to have a leg up on her.

At the hallway's end, behind the last door, Tifa discerned nothing but an occasional shuffle of feet, and a tiny sniffle. It occurred to her then that Reeve might be about to ask her to take care of a child. What if the man was trying too hard to keep her from becoming lonely? How in Gaia's name would she handle that discretely? How was she to politely turn down the offer, without giving some poor orphan the impression he wasn't wanted?

Finally pushing through, Tifa immediately saw just how wrong her initial suspicions were. This was very serious. Reeve stood, leaned against the back wall, minding a tiny boy, who was quietly coming down from a mini-tantrum on the floor. She froze, hardly three steps in. He was so small, and so frail, and outright weak-looking, but the child's platinum hair and pale complexion were enough to stop her musings cold. As if to crush any doubt, he looked up from his moping session, allowing Tifa to behold two wide,cyan feline eyes. Tifa's heart nearly stopped. Those were Jenova-Mako eyes, the mark of a Sephiroth Clone, or more likely, a Remnant, if not the man himself.

"Please, please, tell me where she is…" the kid sighed through his weeping, hugging himself. Absentmindedly, Tifa wondered how long he'd been like this. The little guy had clearly tired himself out. "…Mother. I need Mother…."

The boy's minuscule, weak voice brought Tifa back down from her oncoming horror, despite his pleas. Only slightly stalled by inner trepidation, Tifa approached, cautiously kneeling down, glancing up at Reeve for permission.

"Eden, we have a special guest. She came here just to see you," Reeve spoke to the child, breaking the shy trance he'd readily slipped into.

He paused in his sniffling, swiping lazily at his eyes with the backs of his long-sleeves. Eden wasn't dressed in black leather battle armor as the others had been. The orphanage probably saw to that, although Tifa seriously doubted he was capable of much in a fight anyway. Baggy black jeans and a navy sweater literally swallowed his tiny form, at least two or three sizes too big for him. Eden was the most ironic picture of utter harmlessness she'd ever seen.

"Hey there, I'm Tifa," Pity held sway now, not fear. This boy was no one to be feared. He almost seemed to cringe within himself as she reached for him, his eyes glowing bright emerald, their hearts expanding into huge ovals. Fear was written all over his demure countenance, not malice. "It's okay. I won't hurt you," she reassured him.

Eden tensed visibly when Tifa gently took his small hand into hers, but didn't resist rising to his feet. "Tifa…" He echoed her greeting, daring to look his strange visitor in the eyes. Between her tender face, her soft voice, and chocolate-drop gaze, he relaxed, if only marginally. "Do you know where Mother is…?" he finally hiccupped.

A small, helpless, scared child.

A Sephiroth Remnant.

Reality came crashing back down on Tifa in brutal clarity when he remained stubbornly insistent on that one question. If only in terms of instinct, this kid was in a desperate search for Jenova. Bad, horrible things could happen if he found what he was looking for. Incidentally, both she and Reeve knew the exact location of where the W.R.O. was keeping Jenova specimens. Could it really be a mere coincidence that Eden was here, in their care, and in the midst of a fresh Geostigma outbreak? No, it could not.

"I don't…" Tifa lied, perplexed about what to do. "But I promise we'll keep you safe, okay? Don't worry."

Eden's very nature appeared contradictory. A tiny, sweet, lonely orphan in need of love and comfort and care—Yes, that was completely accurate. A Sephiroth Remnant at least biologically programmed to become "whole"—It would be equally damning to ignore the truth in that as well. Yet, Tifa couldn't overcome the misgivings she had about the little one's capacity to fulfill his purpose for the latter.

Three years ago, the Remnant trio of Kadaj, Loz, and Yazoo left no doubt of what they were and who they came from. They were strong, ruthless, agile, cunning, cruel, and sinister. To watch from the Sierra's bridge as Kadaj merged with Jenova's head, transforming almost instantly into Sephiroth, while nothing short of awful, was not surprising.

Eden, on the other hand, was just an innocent looking for his "Mother", probably clueless as to what he really even meant by that. An orphan in the truest sense, he'd never meet his parents. And as the boy grasped her hand and clung helplessly to her neck, once again in tears, Tifa was simply unable to reconcile the person before her with those who'd come in the past. He shared their appearance, but that was all. This little child could surely never turn into Sephiroth. He'd have to swallow everything the W.R.O. had collected of Jenova and then some to accomplish such a drastic transition. And before that could become a concern, he'd have to figure out how to get to all of it through layers upon layers of tight security.

Carefully, Tifa took Eden in her arms, and lifted him, getting a closer look at his face. Nervous, she heard him gasp slightly, before childish curiosity took over, and he reached for a lock of her hair to play with. She responded in kind, playfully ruffling the top of his head. The wounded, semi-bloodshot pink faded quickly from his big, beautiful Mako eyes. Really, he looked and acted like any other kid aside from that, with his baby-fat cheeks and his uncanny ability to jump from temper tantrum to idle play in a heartbeat. It was cute, and a little annoying, but all in all, rather un-noteworthy.

"Eden, do you think you can tell Tifa where you came from?" Reeve took the boy's calm as a chance to do a little fact-finding, gently prodding. He'd asked the question before, but Eden was too upset and frightened to give a coherent answer.

This time, Eden simply shook his head in the negative, continuing to play with Tifa's hair, daring to tie a decidedly complex knot at the ends. For all their sake, Tifa hoped he wasn't keen to her temporarily panicked pulse. He didn't deserve to see that a big person held such intense reservations about him. "You can tell us," she reassured him.

"I…don't know." Eden swallowed hard, and a steady stream of tears escaped his eyes again. He seemed just as perplexed, if not more so, as they were. "But…Mother could tell me. She could…" And he buried his face in Tifa's shoulder, not wanting to look at Reeve's disapproving frown any longer. Larger sobs burst through, muffled, while Tifa tried to comfort him, lightly patting his back.

Reeve crossed his arms, very mildly frustrated. Eden was probably telling the truth after all. "He was found wandering around the same area Cloud was...found," he informed her, choosing delicate words for Eden's ears, and Tifa's still-fresh loss.

"Are there any others?" Tifa asked, her sense of compassion and qualms warring for ownership of the small form nestled in her arms.

"No. I'm surprised, considering Geostigma's advance. This is not exactly what we've been expecting, but we still need to exercise caution." Reeve let his gaze fall deliberately on Eden, and sighed resignedly. "Before being released to the orphanage, Eden was given a medical exam. Nothing special, just a check up and some blood work we require for the kids' safety. The results show he's in stable health, but he seems to have almost no memories, and he tested positive for the new strain, despite being asymptomatic. A secondary test revealed that, while he's certainly not contagious, our little one seems to enjoy a fully symbiotic relationship with it."

So, Eden really was, beyond argument, a Sephiroth Remnant, with a full medical profile to prove it. Tifa didn't recoil as she thought she might; in fact, she felt even sorrier for him, if that were even possible. She regretted the fact that, even if he never posed a direct threat to anyone, he'd probably always be eyed with dread and suspicion. She felt it tragic that the boy would never meet any real relatives, and that making friends would prove exceedingly difficult for his appearance alone. And she feared for him, because one day, his origins might get the better of him, whether he wanted them to or not, and then, he'd have to meet his end. His already desperate desire to meet his "Mother" was enough to spell that out.

"Oh…what are we going to do with you?" Tifa asked casually, softly nudging the weepy kid, pretending the situation was far less dire.

Then, lifting his head, in the meekest, smallest voice, he replied, "Can I come home with you? I don't like it here…"

"Actually, Eden, I was just about to ask how you'd like to stay with Tifa for a while," Reeve supplied, trying a little harder to put up a positive front for the boy.

Truth be told, she was ready to offer. That Reeve did it for her was annoying, but at least she knew he wasn't trying to placate the loneliness created in Cloud's absence. Eden required a guardian that understood what he was enough to protect him from succumbing to it, but was open-minded enough to believe it could be done. What he was didn't have to be who he was, did it? So young, and the Reunion Instinct aside, his mind was a quintessential blank page, especially given that he had no prior memories of his life. For that, Tifa felt Eden deserved a chance.

"Before we move forward, you should know that Vincent has some other ideas. Be sure to talk to him, too." It was almost an afterthought, but it flew out of Reeve's mouth before he could suppress it.

Tifa hadn't noticed as the matron hurried her upstairs, but Vincent was waiting patiently in the front lobby the entire time. The man looked sorely displeased. If the red glare he cast at the opposing wall carried literal heat, nothing would be left of the orphanage but an ash heap. Nevertheless, Tifa chose to approach him unassumingly. She understood at least one thing about Vincent—Watching bits, pieces, and variations of Lucrecia's son come and go wasn't easy on him. He'd done his absolute best to forgive himself, but nothing could ever quite undo the notion that he might have prevented this vicious cycle of clones, remnants, and destruction.

"I take it you've met Eden," Vincent supplied somewhat darkly.

Tifa took a seat next to him, resting her face in the palms of her hands. "Yeah. I have."

"This won't end differently from the others."

Tifa exhaled. She honestly wasn't surprised that this bothered him. "Don't say that, Vincent. Who knows how long he's been around before he turned up here? He's just a kid, and he hasn't done anything wrong," she countered, although she had yet to be fully convinced.

"As a Remnant, Eden is a part of Sephiroth's will; a part of his being manifested without awareness of its origins. As a child, he may be the most dangerous—the part that was experimented on and tortured by Hojo. Maybe even the part that burned down Nibelheim. How often does a grown man call for his mother?" Vincent pressed, not pleased with having to bring up such a sore point for Tifa, but knowing he must.

Phantom pain seared along the scar in Tifa's chest, but she willed away the visions of burning debris, bleeding townsfolk, and her father. The idea of welcoming her arch-nemesis into her home was entirely beyond her, but she needed to decide if Eden was that."What do you think we should do?" she murmured, feeling sick from the rather poignant detail Vincent brought to light. There was something rather childishabout all of them-Kadaj, Loz, Yazoo, and ultimately, even Sephiroth himself.

"Euthanize him," Vincent felt no need to further justify that answer. Euthanize Eden. Lay to rest the youngest Remnant before it realized its potential. Deny him the opportunity to try. Free him from the conflicting impulses of being a child and being part of Jenova's legacy. End the battle before it got out of hand, quietly, peacefully, secretly. The matter was self-explanatory.

Even knowing all she did, with all the facts swimming in perfect order through her mind's eye, Tifa did not agree. The idea that someone's inner child could commit the violence she'd been forced to recall was simply ludicrous.

"You want to put him down, because we're all nervous about what he might do? What he might become? Vincent, listen to yourself. No, I don't trust him. Not at all, but for whatever else Eden is, he is only a child," she protested.

"I think you've already chosen," Vincent calmly replied, opting not to argue. He'd said his piece.

"I'm not saying he isn't dangerous," Tifa continued, "but even if you're right, maybe this could be like a second chance."

"You would give Sephiroth a second chance?" He had to show her what she was really saying.

"Eden…is not Sephiroth. He's his own person."

"I hope you're sure..."

"I'm not, but I won't let it get out of hand." Tifa lifted her gaze to Vincent's tense form. Where she expected to see anger or disappointment, there was only sadness. "Vincent, whatever happens, it won't be like back then, with Lucrecia. I know this concerns more than just me. This affects everyone."

Vincent rose, briskly striding toward the exit. Tifa feared she'd offended him by bringing her up, but she knew that's what was eating at him about this. "Don't wait to ask for help," he murmured, glancing back, still forlorn.

"I won't. I promise," Tifa reassured him, and with a reluctant nod, he left.

During their entire ride home, Eden refused to let go of Tifa. Sleepy for how late it was, he ultimately settled for using her lap as a pillow, and her forearm as a makeshift plushy. He made it so easy for her to want to forget his nature, and simply accept him as just another orphan that she'd chosen to take under her wing during hard times.

And as she watched him sleep, she came up with a possible solution to Eden's constant longing for "Mother". It was so simple. She would treat him as a normal child who had truly lost his only parent. She'd help him let go of the Reunion Instinct, by masking it as genuine bereavement. That shouldn't be too difficult, she reasoned, considering how familiar she was with the feeling as of late.

As if subconsciously perceiving her benevolent manipulations, Eden stirred, whining and clutching Tifa's arm harder, weakling tugging.

Maybe it wouldn't work so well. Cloud suffered under the Reunion Instinct tremendously, although he fought it the best he could. His reward for that was both physical and mental punishment. The mental strain nearly broke him, more than once. In the end, it seemed that he always kept some loose attachment to Jenova. While he fought on the side of good, somehow, somehow,he was inexplicably drawn in the most subtle of ways. He had tobe the one to chase Kadaj down. He hid his Geostigma, and nearly gave up to it. He became the W.R.O.'s appointed delivery service for all things Jenova. For all his resistance, Cloud was always involved with it; was always there for the Reunion in spite of better intentions, and now he was gone.

Apparently, he wasn't invited this time.

Tifa felt like crying again, but that was something she'd have to rein in now that there was going to be a kid moving in with her. It was her duty to keep guard over Eden with a reliable straight face, and to treat him as sanely and kindly as possible. If that eventually came into conflict with preserving life on Gaia, she didn't know if she'd have the heart to do what needed to be done by herself, but she had all the help she needed.

For now, she didn't want to think in that direction. Arriving at Seventh Heaven's front door, all she was concerned with was getting the tired boy in her lap to a comfortable bed for the night. She hoped he might be less fitful in the morning. Eden, in addition to his frail appearance, was clearly exhausted. Wandering in the rubble alone, combined with the immediate medical examination and intense scrutiny he'd already undergone couldn't have been easy for him. The latter was probably hardly shy of traumatic.

Along those lines, Tifa's thoughts strayed into more foreboding territory again, considering the possibility that Eden had been a witness to Cloud's death. Reeve said he'd been found in the same area. She wouldn't press that issue any time soon; the poor child's head was already loaded with too much confusion. And frankly, she wasn't so sure she wanted or even needed to hear anything beyond the grotesque forensic details she'd already received. All she needed to know was that something gruesome and terrible was out there on the prowl. If Eden had indeed seen it, she might have to protect him from it, or worse, pry him away from something he suddenly felt the urge to label "brother".

Enough. That's what her rational mind commanded at the moment. Eden wouldn't have landed in the W.R.O.'s care with an empty memory if it was that simple. Whatever the truth, she'd sworn to look after him. Obsessing and hesitating would serve no useful end.

Indoors, she delicately maneuvered Eden upstairs and into Denzel's old bed, positioning his small frame comfortably. Responding to his softer, cozier surroundings, he groggily curled up into the fetal position, snuggling with the largest pillow.

"…Mother…"

Tifa flinched at Eden's half-slurred sleep talking, but sat beside him, tenderly pushing his hair back from his face, and dabbing the stray tears he'd just cried from his cheeks. When his nightmare fully subsided, she tucked him in, and retreated to her room with an aching heart. If nothing else was evident about him, it was that Eden was quite a tortured child.