A fresh breeze drifted along the streets of Midgar, carrying with it the scents and sounds of the city's usual early morning life. The voices of half-awake employees heading to work, mingled with the impatient blaring of car horns sailed easily to the window of Tifa Lockhart's bedroom, rousing the woman from her sleep. Her eyes blinked open heavily, her legs shuffling stiffly in response to her body waking. The sun's light seemed to blind her vision as she sat up, an abrupt headache welcoming her back to the world of the living.

Slowly, she eased herself from the warmth of the mattress, her feet padding softly on the bare floor as she began her way awkwardly to the bathroom. The woman groaned audibly as her downcast eyes took in the sight of the glass-littered floor, initiating short sparks of unwanted memories, brief reminders of the moment she struck breaking point.

She forced it aside and, making a mental note to have the shards cleaned up as soon as possible, Tifa carefully picked her way around the debris to reach the sink.

Her eyes felt puffy and swollen, her body aching with stiff joints and bruises. In many ways she was glad she no longer had a mirror to stand before. It was bad enough feeling the damage that engulfed her body but visibly seeing the state she was in would surely tip her over the edge.

The sound of the running tap soothed the girl for a moment, the cold water pleasantly refreshing as she lifted it to her face. She leaned heavily against the porcelain basin, allowing the water to run down her skin. With every minute that passed, the pain in her head began to intensify. Any minute now an explosion of questions was going to ravage her thoughts but stubbornly Tifa forced them back.

Not now, she didn't want to think about it yet. But the more she struggled to keep it at bay, the more she seemed to fall into its depths.

Determinedly, Tifa quickly averted her attention by turning herself around to the door. She had to wait; she needed time to get herself sorted physically before even attempting to piece back her mental state.

With stumbling footsteps, Tifa snatched up a pair of used trousers from the corner of her room and stiffly eased them up over her legs. She adjusted the creases of her stained nightshirt then slowly curled her fingers around the handle of the bedroom door. She listened for what seemed like an age before finally building up the courage to step into the landing.

A sudden sense of fear and vulnerability struck the woman the minute her door closed behind her. It felt so surreal at first, then the growing trepidation secured the girl in its grasp, sucking her in as she shivered in the dark emptiness of the corridor.

Four days. She had barricaded herself in that room for four days and already the rest of the world had become an unfamiliar and terrifying place. Her feet felt like bricks of lead as she tried to advance towards the stairs.

When was the last time she ate, when was the last time she had spoken to another person? None of these questions had even raised a notion in her head, not once. Not since...

But how could she find the time to think about such things? With her head so full of shit and questions that made her wish her life was over, why in hell's name would she care about her next meal?

Her descent on the stairs was slow and tedious, each step seemingly longer than the last. Unfamiliar, so unbelievably distant, the stairs she had ascended countless times held no familiarity whatsoever. Each creak of protest, each cool plank of wood beneath her bare skin felt alien to the girl; as if this was the very first time she had made this descent.

As she reached the hallway her stomach twisted into a painful knot. Tifa couldn't move, her eyes fixated to the doorway before her. Was Cloud sitting just beyond? Was anyone waiting on the other side, ready to unleash a barrage of accusations onto her already struggling mind?

Tifa felt a cold sweat break along her skin. How long could she stand and wait? The answer was painfully obvious.

She couldn't.

Nervously the girl forced herself to move. She reached the door with trembling hands outstretched and pushed it in to reveal the blissfully empty room laid out before her. A tremendous sigh of relief shook itself from her chest and with renewed ease, Tifa made her way to the store behind the bar where she hoped she would find a relief to the now throbbing ache at her temples. It took longer than expected, but after a lot of rummaging and hurling of empty packets, Tifa found a small box of painkillers hidden well within a cupboard at the back of the cluttered room.

Returning to the bar, she tossed the tablets to the back of her throat and swallowed them awkwardly before taking a well-needed gulp of water. Her legs quivered and she seated herself gently down at the counter, her head falling exhaustedly into her hands.

A glance out the window revealed an empty space where Cloud's bike would have sat, reassuring the girl that he was no longer at home.

Good, that gave her time. How much she couldn't be sure, but at least she knew she wouldn't have to sneak around the house with the fear of running into him at every corner.

A lot still remained to be fixed between them both, words that needed to be heard yet remained unsaid, air that desperately needed to be cleared. Tifa knew this but with everything that had happened to her in the last few days there was absolutely no way she wanted to even look at Cloud. Would she curse him, blame him for everything that she'd succumbed to, or would she break right before his eyes and confess it all? God she couldn't even fathom the consequences of such an outcome.

But he could wait; there was still a lot for Tifa to solve without that extra burden adding weight to the menagerie.

She shuddered suddenly. With that final thought, waves of realization seemed to crash down around her consciousness; accusations, disbelief, hopes, fears and guilt all blazed up viciously. For a moment Tifa's body rebelled, she thought she was going to throw up from the instant nausea that hit her. With each second came a new thought, each one more potent and shocking than the first. It was pushing her sanity to dangerous limits.

In four days, just four short days, Tifa had gone from a normal life to absolute rock bottom, her mind hitting every sharp edge on the way down until it was nothing more but a tattered, maimed sliver of its former self. She had been thrown and tossed relentlessly, tortured by cruel truths of her life, tempted by the promise of a future, dragged down further by the claws of her doubt. The realization of what she'd done, what she'd succumbed to, what she had been forced and yet craved to give in to all overflowed in one massive wave.

But as her mind fell into the turmoil, a sudden awareness began to eat at her consciousness. In these last few torturous days, all Tifa's thoughts had left her scarred, left her hating herself more with every second, the doubt and pain driving her further and further from the safety of rational thought.

But now...

The thoughts struck at her, they flowed up with even more ferocity than ever and yet it wasn't the same. She listened to herself, she let the waves wash over her but she still held on. She didn't break, didn't fall into heart rendering sobs of anguish over her stupidity, her fear of life. Why? What had changed, why wasn't she crumbling into the pitiful heap as she had all those times before?

In what remained of Tifa's battered and broken logic, a single answer arose, shimmering weakly but clearly amidst the chaos: Hope.

For a long moment Tifa considered this. For what seemed like an eternity, the young woman had gone without the strength or promise of expectation. She couldn't believe in anything, not Cloud, not her friends and most pitiful of all, she had lost all faith in herself.

Until Sephiroth found her...

Even now, Tifa still could not comprehend his motives. It terrified her, yet that man, that monster of her darkest memories had erased all the pain with a whisk of his hand. All she had to do was trust him, give everything she was over to him...and she had.

Doubt and guilt continued to claw at her, she was betraying everything she had ever once stood for. But Tifa could feel it. She could still feel the hope Sephiroth had instilled in her, the love and security his embrace provided. And at this point, that was worth more to the girl than anything else imaginable. Without it, she couldn't go on. And it was his hope that kept her going even now. Slowly but surely, Tifa could already feel the wounds of her mind beginning to stitch back together and with them, an air of reassurance that everything was only going to improve from here.

From outside in the city, the sound of a clock striking the hour roused Tifa back to attention. She sat for a moment, briefly unaware of her surroundings or what to do. Then rational thought, a function she hadn't seen for quite some time, pulled her to her senses.

Tifa needed to return to the world of the living.

The painkillers had finally started taking affect, helping the woman to concentrate on a plan of action. For a moment she fumbled with her priorities, confused on what or where to work first. She badly needed a shower; there was no excuse in the world that would save her should she be seen looking like she'd just gone through the wars. And her room would undoubtedly need attention. Between the stained bedclothes and smashed mirror mingled with the scent of sweat and blood, the girl was going to have her hands full bringing order to the mess. Cloud couldn't know, he wouldn't know. All the evidence had to be disposed of. Once she had that sorted, only then could she start piecing back the shards of what remained of her life.

And as the girl slid from her seat to begin the task, she realized with acceptance that her mind, her guilt and conscience would hound her through the entire process, but for the first in a long time, Tifa was not terrified by that thought.


The curtains billowed wildly as the young woman threw open her window, the fresh air a welcomed reprieve to the overwhelming stuffiness of her bedroom. She leaned out, inhaling deeply for a moment before pushing her torso back in to survey the area. A weak smile of approval graced her lips as she took in her handiwork. In only a few short hours, Tifa had managed to sweep all the glass from the bathroom tiles, wash away the dried smears of blood from the edges of the sink, clean up the scattered clothes and fallen objects from her bedroom floor and find a clean set of bed clothes for the bed all with extra time to spare for the girl to appreciate a long and well-deserved shower.

Standing in a white, clean t-shirt and loose khaki trousers, Tifa felt refreshed and enlightened. As she worked, her head had assaulted her tirelessly, but much to the young woman's relief, as each thought came and went, none arose to replace it. The burden was lifting from her shoulders, slowly but surely and with it came an optimism Tifa had long struggled to see.

Each hour that passed continued to reassure the girl that what she had chosen was right, that putting her life into the hands of Sephiroth was going to give her the hope, the love and the future she craved. She needed that reassurance, absorbing every inch she could get her hands on.

God, it felt so surreal. This joy, this hope. It was too good to be true. How long had she waited for such a promise for happiness? Was it really so easy...just like that and she was free of life's burden?

She didn't care. All she knew was that she could live with this decision; to accept Sephiroth, the man who was saving her from her misery.

But nobody would understand it, no one could possibly re-enact the pain she had experienced. So no one could ever believe that what she had chosen was right. But it was, for her it was more than right, it was necessary.

Tifa continued to smile as she wandered towards the landing, her mind ready to take on the work that had piled up incessantly since her absence from the bar. There would be more cleaning, washing and countless bills to make up for, but she could face it with ease. Nothing could ever be as hard as what these last few days had put her through. And with a touch of hope and fear, Tifa knew nothing would ever be that hard again, so long as she had 'him'.


Cloud's body sat rigid against the pale glow of a tree, his eyes set straight, staring into nothing. The eerie stillness of the Forgotten City surrounded him, something that once brought him calm and peace of mind, but now seemed useless against the rising turmoil of his thoughts.

Beyond the break of the forest, his bike lay carelessly to one side, the man hardly caring to set the kick bar as he dismounted.

He couldn't tell for how long he'd sat there, silent and unmoving in the chill damp of a rising mist. The glow of the trees shimmered and danced across his stoic features, becoming a private light show along the surface of the lake, but the blond hardly noticed.

The descent into the Shinra labs had been more than a little uncomfortable, the tension hanging between Cloud and the Shinra President growing thicker with every silent minute that passed between them.

When the final floor of the elevator reached an end, Cloud could feel his stomach clench as the white double doors of the science department loomed up before him. Entering behind Rufus, the blonde's mind seemed to reel as the foreboding sense that had stalked him every step of the way heightened intensely.

The smell of disinfectant and noxious fluids wafted painfully to his nose and the man fought hard against the urge to vomit. Around him the voices of arrogant scientists, chiming glass beakers and noises Cloud didn't even want to imagine the source of seemed to fall to a sullen whisper as the President and his guest walked into the room, the young leader's demeanour hardly phased by the department's instant barrage on the senses.

On entering, an older, more experienced looking scientist quickly shuffled forward and exchanged a few quick words with the President before gesturing for the pair to follow.

Cloud continued on cautiously, the lab's atmosphere more than a little unnerving. After passing yet another group of scientists, all disturbingly as engrossed in their work as the other, the blond was led into a dark hallway, down a short flight of stairs then further into a small alcove stationed before a thick, metal door. A chill breeze set his hair on end as their 'guide' turned the key into five different locks before heaving the frame inward to reveal what Cloud could only have described as a walk-in refrigerator.

His stomach instantly filled with lead as he noticed the racks of body bags aligned across every wall.

Rufus however, hardly seemed to notice the wave of cold that washed out and, with unsettling calm, motioned towards a far rack to which the scientist now moved. Cloud watched as the man's aged hands sought out the end of a particular handle and, cringing, waited as a bag was screeched into sight from within its shelf.

Rufus moved forward, nodding in kind as the scientist headed out of the room, the door shutting ominously behind him.

Cloud's eyes locked onto the exposed rack, his skin suddenly riveted with goosebumps. The sickening scent of formaldehyde wafted out from the cold store, flipping the blonde's stomach as he inhaled.

Nonchalantly Rufus advanced toward the selected body, his gaze turning expectantly onto the other man. Cloud slowly approached, stopping at least a metre from the shelf.

Then the President took hold of the bag's opening zip and Cloud felt his muscles tense painfully.

"Do you recognize him?" Rufus spoke casually, as if the presence of a corpse was an everyday occurrence. It unsettled the blond, but ignoring his anxiety Cloud forced himself to look at the now exposed face.

A young man, still practically a boy. The skin was pure white, almost translucent and a mess of brown hair hung limply across two hallowed cheeks.

Rufus watched Cloud intently, shrugging acceptingly as the man shook his head.

"No matter." He paused, giving Cloud a minute to think before continuing. "He worked in Junon; a young SOLDIER in training. I was informed he was positioned inside the reactor among the engineers".

Cloud looked up, an almost angry glare cast towards his host as if to question why such a young life was put in such a position. Rufus ignored the blonde's agitation.

"A backup; should any monsters have slipped our notice during the initial eradication of the building's structure. However that was unlikely. Anything that could have slipped our notice would have to be so small that even a novice SOLIDER should have had no problems dealing with it."

Cloud only half-listened, his focus engrossed on the young man's face. Why had Rufus brought him here and how could he speak so indifferently about this? What had killed this boy? Had Cloud dropped his guard at some point; had something gotten into the reactor without him knowing? If so, was he responsible for this boy's death?

"Tell me Cloud," Rufus turned a speculative eye onto his guest, "what do you think did this?"

"You don't know?" Cloud looked up questioningly, only to see a complacent Rufus smile from the corner of his mouth. The President knew, he just wanted to hear what Cloud had to say first.

The blond shook his head as he considered the question and was surprised to feel a slight pang of guilt building in his gut. "Maybe...something from the plains...something I failed to notice or...a freak accident?"

Rufus considered his response. "What if I told you that the reactor is impenetrable unless proper administration is provided?"

There was an unusual sense of relief, before Cloud quickly turned to consider the new information. If there was no way in, then what could have possibly survived inside the Junon reactor and slipped the notice of the men working within it? What was so subtle yet powerful enough to take on a SOLDIER, even if only a rookie in training? Despite his knowledge of the area's monsters, not many things could hold that title in Cloud's head.

The President scrutinized the man for a long moment, his gaze trained onto the ever changing emotions that shimmered across Cloud's face.

Unsure, the blond looked again back to the young man then back to Rufus. "I don't know. I've not encountered many things that could take on a SOLDIER, even someone as young as him. But then...I do know cockiness can cost you everything when shown at an inopportune time. Maybe it was just a misjudged lack of experience." As he finished, Cloud noticed a strange flicker of light glaze over Rufus's eyes before a dark, foreboding shadow crossed his features. It made Cloud nervous. His body shivered suddenly when a faint smile of amusement lifted a corner of the President's mouth.

"Let me assure you Cloud," His voice had taken on a disconcerting tone, his expression one of a twisted humour, "that what killed this boy; no level of experience could have saved him from."

He stopped, his eyes staring off into some distant memory. Already Cloud could feel the icy fingers of dread gripping his heart. Questions raced through his mind, pulling him further down into doubt and unease.

Time seemed to crawl. Rufus's hands, as he pulled the zip further down the corpse's body, dragged on with unbearable slowness. Cloud watched with a sickening intensity as the thick material peeled away to uncover the pure white of a torso, then further to unveil the stomach.

The fatal injury burned an angry red against the boy's pale skin; a subtle yet lethal stab wound into the left of his lower abdomen.

"And now?" Rufus prompted, distracting Cloud before he could take a closer look. "Can you think of any creature that would kill in such a fashion?"

The blond stared warily at his host, wondering where all of this was leading. The foreboding sense that had haunted him since he entered the lab was growing with every passing minute and the latest turn of events had left him with a strange sense of familiarity, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Was it the room? The scenario taking place? Maybe the boy's face was more familiar than he first thought...or maybe something much more obvious, something he recognized beyond all doubt, but subconsciously refused to accept.

He turned his attention back to the late SOLDIER's stomach, his eyes scanning the wound nervously. A clean, swift, solitary cut, about one inch high. It was clearly too accurate to be a monster from the Junon plains, in fact it was more than obvious that the poor boy had been stabbed by a human blade; most likely pierced through the back considering the way the laceration flayed up where the steel had broke the skin. But what was Rufus getting at? Was he suggesting that there was a traitor among his men? Did he want Cloud to hunt him out?

The blond cast a wary glance over Rufus's stoic features. The President was standing quietly, almost expectantly, as if waiting for something...but what? Cloud's response? His willing agreement of searching out this betraying murderer? But why? Surely with Shinra's security measures such a traitor would have been reprimanded within a matter of hours. So what then?

One final time, Cloud returned his attention to the boy, his mind growing increasingly fearful of what he might conclude.

What was it he couldn't see? The wound? Clean, swift, precise...such a cut would be impossible for a novice sword wielder...suggesting a more advanced swordsman? But as far as Cloud knew, up until this boy he had been the only one within a five mile radius of Junon with the knowledge to even swing a blade. Did that mean Rufus believed he was the perpetrator? But that was ridiculous. The Shinra President was more than aware of the form of weaponry Cloud took as his preferred choice. A buster sword was heavy and brutally thick, such an accurately placed cut would have been practically impossible for such a weapon. No, it was something else.

Cloud felt his insides churn. Something was nagging at him, chewing away at his thoughts. The answer was there, he knew it...but why couldn't he take hold.

Clean...swift...precise...What kind of blade could cause such a blow?

It had to be of human causes. Someone had done this, or at least something of human intelligence. But if not from the outside then something from within. Something that had already existed, or recently appeared within the mako reactor.

The thoughts began to churn relentlessly, the answer slowly emerging before his eyes.

Familiar, so familiar. What was so familiar? The cut? But why? So precise, so...perfect. When he had been a SOLDIER, a rookie not much older than the boy lying before him, such a kill would have been deemed impossible. In fact the only one known to have perfected such a lethal attack was...

There was a split second of confusion; of shock and disbelief. Then the emptiness of sickening realisation, like a black void engulfing his mind. A force hit Cloud like an axe to the chest. The room seemed to close in, constrict his body, drag the air from his lungs. He couldn't see the boy anymore, only the answer that had so coldly presented itself. He felt numb as his mind desperately struggled to deny the possibility.

Rufus watched with a morbid satisfaction as the blood slowly drained from Cloud's face. At last he understood. "Do you see now Cloud? Do you finally realize why I have brought you here?" "

As if in a trance, Cloud turned his whole body to face the Shinra President, but his eyes stared hauntingly beyond him. He shook his head weakly. "It's...not possible."

"It is."

"No-"

"My labs have already confirmed it. Countless times I have had them repeat the tests only to have each result return as before."

"You're wrong, nothing could have-"

"Denying it won't help. The sooner you accept the reality of what we are facing-"

"STOP IT!" Cloud's voice bordered on hysteria, a sudden burst of desperation as he realised everything Rufus spoke was going to be true. He didn't want to hear it. He couldn't focus. It was like all the nightmares of his past had meshed into one, spontaneously imploding inside his head without relief.

"Listen to me."

Cloud forced himself to look up, almost recoiling as his eyes set upon the steeliness that reflected from the young leader's gaze. "No one could have prepared us for this. But whether you choose to involve yourself with us or not, there is no denying that you are already a part of it. His return was unexpected but-"

"How?"

Rufus paused to consider his guest.

"How is it possible?"

"The only way it could be possible." The President studied the man curiously, as if the answer should have been obvious, then shifted a hand into the folds of his jacket to remove a sheet of paper. He unfurled it with a flick of his wrist and placed it on the rack before him.

"This is a record of the lifestream within and around the area of Junon. Each curve represents a flux in its activity; this particular graph shows the days leading up to the death of this SOLDIER. And this," A second graph was pulled from Rufus's pocket and placed on top of the first. "This is its activity only hours before he was killed."

Cloud couldn't ignore the difference. The lines of the second graph soared erratically, as if a surge of power had erupted from within the lifestream's depths. And as it began to return to its usual gradient, Cloud knew, with a sickening confidence, that the power that had surged up from its core, had not returned with it.

Silently, Rufus tucked the papers back into his jacket and observed Cloud as he stood before him. The blonde's face was grey, but a faint look of acceptance, shrouded by disbelief, seemed to have shimmered into his expression. "You may be an ex-SOLDIER Cloud, and you may hate what we do. But you, more than anyone, know what we are facing now. We need you."

Cloud turned a tired eye onto the young leader, as if he could hear his words but nothing was being processed.

"Think of your family, your friends. I know it isn't the easiest thing to accept, but you're the only one who knows exactly what we are dealing with here."

Before he could finish, Cloud suddenly wheeled away from the President, his feet walking mechanically toward the door. But Rufus made no attempt to stop him, knowing too well nothing would bring the man back to face this. Not for now at least ."Think about it Cloud. That's all I ask."

But the blond couldn't even motion a response, his hand already dragging the door shut behind him.


Well that was exhausting!

Tifa yawned deeply, her long arms arcing stiffly into the air above her. She had forgotten how tiring dealing with a crowded bar could really be, especially when she realized all she wanted to do was sleep.

The young woman sat down on the edge of her bath, mechanically picking up a hairbrush to battle the tangled mess her hair had become. She thought over the day's events, how everything had appeared in a different perspective. She had smiled all day.

Remembering that joy, Tifa felt an elated shiver crawl up her back. She still couldn't believe it, but at this stage she didn't care. She needed nothing more to convince her that this decision was right. And nothing would take it away.

Sighing with content, the young woman rose from her seat and exited the bathroom, her nightshirt flowing loosely around her legs. As she entered her bedroom, a cold gust of wind diverted her attention to the still-open window, its hinges creaking softly in the night's breeze.

She moved in its direction, a hand lifting to rub her tired eyes, but her arm dropped abruptly. It could have been the wind, perhaps a trick of the light as she had averted her gaze?

She watched, perplexed as the glass pane began to swing inward, the handle rising stiffly to lock it into place. That was not the wind.

And neither was the sudden grip that caught her waist, knocking her effortlessly onto the bed.

She lay startled for a few seconds before her thoughts caught up to the moment. There was an initial sense of panic, before the young girl managed to take control of herself. She composed her breathing which had temporarily excelled with the rate of her heartbeat. Her hands, once locked to her sides, now shuffled slowly out to push her body up. But the force pressing down along her chest prevented any such motion.

Sephiroth leaned closer until his mouth rested against the bare skin of her throat. She trembled at the touch, a wave of excitement and nerves surfacing in her mind. She shivered elatedly as his lips trailed across her collar bone, dragging forth a lustful urge. There was no fear, no hate, just a slight apprehension. She had expected this. This moment had run itself ragged throughout her head all day, replaying the outcomes, questioning what she could and could not respond to. These first few minutes would be the hardest, but it would get easier. At least, she hoped it would.

"What is it?"

Tifa jumped at the sudden question and a knot formed in the pit of her stomach. She felt her mouth go dry and she struggled to find her voice. In panic of not being able to respond, Tifa settled for a slight shake of her head. Above her came the sound of humoured laughter, sending butterflies soaring in her belly.

"You're a bad liar my dear."

Tifa shivered. She shook her head again, cleared her throat and found her voice. "I'm fine."

There was a silence before Sephiroth's weight lifted unexpectedly, pulling the girl's attention to the area around her. She propped herself onto her elbows, then slowly rose to her feet. Anxiety began to creep in as she attempted to guess where he had gone.

"You're still nervous of me."

Tifa whirled about to face the bed. She could see the dip of the mattress where Sephiroth was seated, his back most likely resting against the headboard. Without thinking, the young woman's feet took several steps away, betraying her uncertainty. She couldn't deny she did feel nervous. But not the same kind of fearing nerves she had felt all those nights before. More like the type of nerves a young girl would feel the first time she undresses in front of her boyfriend, or the type of anxiety she'd feel when her self-confidence is challenged by someone superior.

But Sephiroth wasn't blind. He was very aware of how she felt right now, and he knew exactly how to ease her into his grasp.

The young girl stood quietly, her teeth chewing uneasily on her lower lip.

"Come here."

Tifa hesitated. Then to her surprise, she found her feet edging forward, slowly but surely, each step closing the space between herself and the bed. As she came within his range, Sephiroth reached out and brushed a soothing hand along her arm. He felt her body tense and shiver with the touch, stiffening hesitantly as his fingers wrapped around her wrist and coaxed her gently forward.

As her knees hit the mattress, Tifa found herself being pulled onto the bed. Warily she followed, her free hand shuffling as a support beneath her. But when her skin suddenly rubbed up against his leg, Tifa froze.

Sephiroth gently released her wrist, waiting as she overcame her initial recoil. He wanted her to feel like she was making the decisions; she needed to take her own control. But it was obvious a little encouragement was going to be necessary.

Lightly he cupped a hand to her face, indirectly coaxing her forward. Before Tifa realized it, she had shuffled up onto Sephiroth's waist, her slender legs straddling his hips and an unexpected sense of security began to take over her apprehension. He brought his knees up behind the young woman, as if to secure her on his lap but she found the act strangely comforting.

When facing this man, Tifa couldn't help but feel vulnerable; anxious as to how she herself should act in his presence. But when she was this close, when she could feel his touch, felt the heat and security of his body beneath her as opposed to pinning her down, the sense of belonging, of lust and desire overrode all else.

Sephiroth's arms enveloped Tifa's waist, soothing the tension from her muscles. She felt equal. Not dominated by this man, but supported and strengthened. The worries were easing away.

Feeling suddenly braver, Tifa lifted her hands and placed them tentatively against his chest. She brushed her fingers curiously across his skin, awed by the sculpted muscles that glided beneath her touch. Then her arms were rising over broad shoulders, entwining with lengths of silken hair.

Desire overwhelmed her thoughts, a sudden restlessness to have this man empower her senses.

For a moment she questioned her next move, but a sudden determination, an unbearable longing wiped all doubt from her mind. She was tired of this life. She would have her hope fulfilled, her joy unleashed.

Curiously, Sephiroth watched as the young girl felt around for his hands and unwound them from her waist. He wondered whether her nerves had won through, that her doubt had been stronger than he first anticipated but he found himself taken aback when his fingers suddenly interlaced with the hem of her nightshirt. An amused smile graced his lips as she urged his hands beneath the top, a faint shiver riveting across her skin as she encouraged them to stroke up along her bare stomach.

As he took the initiative to explore her body, Tifa released her grip and, despite the slight quivering in her limbs, lifted the shirt from over her head. A slight blush rose against her cheeks as Sephiroth's hands found their way to her chest, a silent gasp emerging from deep within her throat as his fingers caressed each breast with a silent admiration.

Then Sephiroth wrapped his arms behind her back and she willingly lowered her body to his. The skin to skin contact sent elated trembles cascading through Tifa's body. It felt fantastic, the heat, the affection, the desire. Without a doubt, Tifa wanted this. She craved it, needed it, begged for more. And at last, she would have it.

Their lips locked in a passionate embrace, betraying the lust Tifa had withheld for so long. She wouldn't hold back anymore, for once she was going to love; she was going to live her life.

For once, she was going to take control.