Chibi: Yes, I know, very speedy update. I have had a sudden burst of inspiration though and it just commands me to write! Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter. It's fairly pivotal ... so, as always, I love me a good review please!

Enjoy!

Ten

I knew that Zack was talking to me, his face hovering in front of mine as he knelt down before me and held onto my shoulders and shook me, trying to get a response from me, but something was wrong with my hearing and all I could hear was a strange, faint buzzing and all I was truly aware of was the movement of my brother's lips. They formed shapes, pliable and flexible, shifting and morphing into words that must have passed my ears by.

He kissed me.

They were the only words I could hear, dancing through my mind in a naive gait, almost ignoring the fact that he'd ran after Kadaj, was heading up the mountain and was surely walking to his death.

Aerith left.

Those were the words that joined the other three next – two short, monosyllabic words that should have gauged some kind of feeling, emotion, at their release, but I felt nothing. Then the words started confusing themselves, melding and twisting until I had an uneven medley circling my mind that made me shut my eyes on Zack's soundless shouts. Kissed left he Aerith me left kissed Aerith he me ...

"Tifa!" A final shake that snapped my head back and words that cut sharply through the fog in my mind were the catalysts that rudely brought me back to reality. "Tifa, what happened?"

"Zack ..."

"Did Kadaj, did he ... you know?"

I shook my head limply. He grabbed hold of my arms and roughly pulled me upwards, his face softening in relief. We stood with uncertainty in the middle of Aerith's empty room, our empty spare room, our long-gone nursery with a pattern of ducks drifting along a border.

"Tifa, he'll kill him."

"I know," I whispered wetly. Panic overflowed my vision and I couldn't see anything, just the carpet beneath my feet as I stared with heaving effort at the floor and tried to arrange my thoughts. Footsteps echoed away but for some time I couldn't move, couldn't think, could barely breathe, because Zack's words were pounding in my head with a painful truth that made me want to shout out, deny it, to fall into the bed beside me and sleep until I was young again, or until I was old, until I had passed all of this by and was safe, alone – like always – and living my old, drifting life of runs up the mountain and staring at the sky.

When I finally managed to pull my head upright, to focus my vision, ready to enquire as to what we should do next, I found that my brother was gone. The front door was banging, like it had been thrown open with unheeding force, and I could hear the pouring rain – Biblical, my mother had always described it when it was like this – and I was alone. Logic would have told me to stop, to think about what I was doing, to get a coat or calm down and talk to someone, but logic had no place in my motions at that time and so I just concentrated on running down the stairs, across the hallway and towards the swinging front door. I was almost there, almost in the unending downpour, when the door to my father's study opened and he, my father, was grabbing hold of my arm with a firmness in his grip that I wouldn't have thought possible and he was holding me back, denying me my goal.

"Dad, let me go! I have to go out there -"

"You are not going out there, Tifa! You'll get sick again, and this time you might not be so lucky!"

"Dad, I can't stay here! Cloud – Kadaj – I ... I have to go to him!"

My father's mouth snapped open and closed, like Zack's had been doing in my eyes just minutes before, and I tried with all my heart to make him understand with the fierceness with which I clutched at his arm, the stubbornness with which I held his gaze, and the wildness I knew was shining in my eyes.

"Dad, please. You don't understand. I have to go to him."

When I look back on it now, I can see how absurd the request was. The rain was pouring so hard that every time a drop hit the ground, dirt shot back up into the air behind it in a fountain of brown that spouted all over the path outside. I had only just recovered from my last incident in the rain – a mild but serious case of pneumonia. Kadaj had a gun.

Why should he do it? Why should he, my father – Livingston Fair – let me, his fifteen year old daughter, run out into the rain after a boy she barely knew?

Because he loved her.

"Go," he all but whispered. He pressed his forehead against mine, his hands tight on my shoulders, and I knew then that everything I'd felt over this summer, every last shred of animosity and anger towards him and any he felt for me, had left us the moment that rain had started falling and I'd begged him to let me go out after Cloud. "Go. I love you."

As I nodded, and started heading through the door, I picked up my pace and began running, my feet surprisingly firm and steady as they beat the well known and worn path that I had run so many times. My father called out of the door to me: "Be careful!"

"Always!" I cried over the weather.

Strangely, as I ran, I felt like laughing.

Zack was a blur ahead of me – a dark, twitching haze skidding through the loose mud on the ground as he fought against the traction and urged himself onwards, towards the faint but thankfully visible dash of blonde I could see far ahead of us at the base of the mountain, weak and fading in the darkness of the air but still there, still existing.

"Cloud!" My brother roared. Cloud stopped where he was, at the start of the incline, ready to head upwards and towards the summit, and as I drew closer behind my brother, who was slowing down in his approach, I could see that his hair, despite the fact that it was sodden with rain, was, if possible, sticking up and out more than ever. Zack stopped before him, panting, and finally I skidded to a halt beside them. Cloud turned on me angrily.

"What are you doing out here?" He glared at Zack, too, who was staring at him with the same stoutness and obstinacy as I had before, when I held my father's gaze. "Both of you! You shouldn't be here. It's nothing to do with you two. Go home."

"You didn't think I'd let you go on alone, did you?" Zack asked. He reached forward, still breathing heavily, and placed a strong hand on Cloud's shoulder, holding him firmly. I saw that his eyes were shining with the same love that they did when he sometimes looked at me. "We're friends, right?"

Cloud softened, and he too reached out a hand, which landed on my brother's shoulder with the familiarity of a comrade.

I found my voice, which expelled itself from my body with a soft, shaking tone that made his eyes grow sad.

"I can't leave you," I told him. His hand found mine, squeezing it tightly.

"You don't have to do this," he told us, his gaze shifting to stare up the mountain path that was barely clear in the shower. "This is my problem."

Zack and I said nothing, just held onto him with an unwavering grip, and then the three of us began our ascent of the mountain path.

By the time I was around five years old, I knew the trail up the mountain better than I knew my house, my garden, my family and my toy collection – the four of us, my mother, father, brother and I, used to walk it regularly together, and in time I could walk ahead of my family, moving as quickly as I could on my short, stumbling legs, and I would sometimes lead the way. Other times, Zack would lead, or my mother whilst my father carried me on his back. Whoever led, one thing never changed – this was something we all knew together, something we shared that wasn't a surname and a house. This path – this straightforward, gradually steep path – was ingrained into my memory so well that I could recall, without a moment to think, every twist and every curve of dirt. Though I continually associate that walk now with the fall of rain, with the spreading of blood and the echo of gunfire, I can still dredge up from my memories the feel of the sun on my face, my mother's hand soft around mine, and my brother's eager smile.

Walking that path with Zack and Cloud, in the pattering rain and the darkening sky, I felt a queer lightness that I couldn't understand. I felt as though I was walking towards an end, but my mind seemed to have already accepted it. Instead of fear and terror, the only thing I could really focus on was the beat of my shoes on the path beneath me, Cloud beside me, and my brother on his other side, and the echo of memories that would never, could never, truly leave me.

What struck me as odd, as we breached the summit and saw Kadaj and Yuffie standing side by side, was the fact that he wasn't restraining her, or keeping her close to him, in any way. She was free to move away, run back down the path we'd trodden, and out of this life, but she didn't because she seemed to know that Kadaj was a man of his word. She stayed beside him, not too close, but within the right proximity that he could grab hold of her if needs be. Her face, despite her obvious efforts to calm herself and remain unbothered, showed how frightened she was, and how this was the last thing that she would have expected to happen.

I remembered the years before – being young together and ignoring boys, concentrating on dolls and the television and begging my father to make us his famous barley tea with a spoonful of sugar in it – and I realised how much, over the last few weeks in which we'd slowly, inevitably, drifted apart from each other, I had truly missed her, because she was my best friend.

The gun glinted at Kadaj's side.

"And here I was thinking you wouldn't have the guts to show up," he drawled, his eyes tight on Cloud. The moment we got close enough, his hand shot out and grabbed hold of Yuffie's arm and held it so tightly that she let out a whimper of pain. Kadaj saw Zack through the dark.

"What are you doing here, Fair?"

My brother, staring stoically at his own best friend, betrayed no hint of remorse for his choice.

"I'm here to make things right," he told Kadaj. I remember thinking how odd that statement was, because Zack had done nothing wrong – this argument, this disagreement, so to say, was between Cloud and Kadaj. And yet, Zack was holding himself with a heaviness that spoke of a burden of guilt as though he had as much blame in this spite as either of them. "But you have to let Yuffie go, now. Cloud has done as you asked. He's here."

Kadaj wasn't particularly reluctant in releasing his hold on Yuffie – in fact, he all but pushed her towards me. She clung to my arms, burying her face in my shoulder, as I gently held her and tried to keep her calm.

"Yuffie, go home." Zack's words were pointed and clipped. Yuffie looked up at me with a mixture of trepidation and a seeking of assurance, and I nodded at her.

"I don't want to leave you," she whimpered. Her sharp little fingers were digging into arms like arrows.

"I'll see you back home," I told her. She grudgingly backed away from me, heading towards the path we'd just emerged from, and she quickly looked back at me, over her shoulder, looking for a final oath. "I promise," I told her firmly. She nodded weakly, and then she was gone, her form melting away into the haze of rain and mist.

My brother and his former best friend stood staring at each other, as though they were sizing each other up, but I could see that there was sadness in Zack's eyes.

"Kadaj, stop this."

"He should have known better – you should have known better!"

I knew then, as they fired phrases at each other with looks of pain, that this wasn't about Cloud, Yuffie, and her party – this was about something that to Kadaj was much, much bigger. This was about Cloud replacing him as Zack's best friend. I got the feeling that the infidelity issue (which seemed ridiculous, when I thought about it, because Kadaj and Yuffie weren't even dating) was just an excuse, a reason to do what he was trying to do. A reason to get Cloud out of the way. But when I saw my brother, remembered how he'd reacted to the news that Kadaj had tried to rape me – I don't like to say it out loud but essentially that was what it was, that was what he'd tried to do – I knew that there was no chance now. Their friendship, to Zack, was long buried, long gone.

"You set the fire, didn't you? The fire at Seventh Heaven?" I asked Kadaj softly. He didn't say anything, tried hard to give nothing away, but I could see it in the way his face twitched involuntarily. "Why would you do that? You knew all those people were in there. Someone could have died!"

"Because I thought he'd be in there!" He roared, pointing the gun at Cloud. We all froze, not daring to take a step, not daring to say a word, in case his finger slipped, tightened, did something to pull the trigger. "I thought that he'd be in there, and so I set the fire because I thought it would get rid of him!"

He kept shaking his head, like he was frustrated, annoyed with himself, and he reached up a hand to wipe away tears that I had only just noticed were there. He was crying. His eyes were wide and glassy and, despite the gun at his side, his height and build, and the timbre of his voice, he just reminded me of a child who'd got it wrong, but couldn't quite work out why.

"Kadaj," Zack breathed, tentatively reaching out a hand towards his former, old friend. "We can help you-"

"-I hate this place," Kadaj said heavily. The gun was pointing at the floor now, his hand loose around it, and I found myself hoping that he'd drop it so that one of us could pick it up and just take it away from him – take the child's toy away. "I hate this ridiculous, tiny village." He stared upwards, into the rain, not seeming to care that it was falling directly into his eyes. Every word he spoke, I – bizarrely – found myself agreeing with. "I hate how you can't say something without someone else hearing it. I-" his voice cracked considerably, and he again dragged a hand across his eyes, wiping away a mixture of tears and rain. "- I hate it all. But weirdly, most of all ..." he drew in a deep, heavy breath, and then he lowered his eyes from the sky, and his gaze hung straight on Zack. "I hate people who come in and mess everything up."

His hand twitched and suddenly, he had aimed the gun and fired, and Cloud let out a cry of pain, scarlet blossoming out through his shirt like an opening flower as he clutched at his stomach, his knees shaking.

"Cloud!" I found myself shouting. I went to go to his side but Zack's hand shot out and held my wrist firm. I could almost read his mind, knew what he was saying as he anxiously watched Kadaj's flexing, twitching face with fiery but confused eyes. No sudden movements. Cloud was kneeling on the floor, his hands tight at his stomach and there was such pain crawling across his face that it was all I could do to heed my brother's words, to stay where I was, standing in the pouring rain watching the boy who'd shot him, caused this pain, for signs of further movement. Seeing Cloud like that, doubled over in the pouring rain, his hands uselessly trying to stem the blood that I could see was slipping through his fingers and down the back of his hands, made me remember the dream I'd had, the one I'd had just before I'd met him, the one I'd caught a flash of the night of the fire as I waited anxiously for his and Zack's return. My brother and Aerith, holding him upright, blood pouring and their faces dead. I wanted to shake my head, convince myself that it couldn't happen, not only because it was just a dream but because she had gone, Aerith isn't here anymore, but as Cloud gave a soft moan of pain that seemed to clasp like a fist around the very stem of my heart, I found my hands shaking as I realised with every second that passed and every drop of blood that began pooling on the wet ground before him, that this might be the end.

I wanted to cry out, to scream, to scratch and kick and just hurt Kadaj. It wasn't fair! I've only just got him, only just found him, I wanted to tell him. Don't take him away from me!

"Kadaj, please," Zack said weakly, and I noticed that his voice was wavering and cracking as he said it. I wondered if it was because of Cloud, kneeling on the floor and clutching at himself with bloodied hands, or because of his former best friend, standing in the rain in the dark of evening with a gun in his hand and with sad, confused eyes, or even if it was because of both reasons. "I ... I understand-"

"-No, you don't," Kadaj spat out. "You ... you just come home from university, and there's me thinking nothing's changed, we'll be back to normal because you're my friend, your my best friend ... and suddenly you've got him-" he cocked his head at Cloud, who had managed to look up at us with frightened, pained eyes that made my lip tremble. "- and, you've got her, that girl, and I'm gone - out of the picture. Replaced." He shook his head, the gun again loose in his hands. "Well, Fair, where is she now? Where's your girl?"

"She's gone," my brother murmured, his face stiff and unyielding. "She left."

"Exactly," Kadaj said. "Because of me. Because I told her to leave."

Zack said nothing, gave nothing away, but I knew that he must have been kicking himself, having taken in Kadaj's words. Kadaj was saying, effectively, that Zack himself had caused Aerith to go.

"Just stop it."

The words frightened me, took me by surprise, because up until now everyone had been cautious and wary with what they said, not wanting to anger Kadaj any more than he already was. But these words, which cut through the dark and rain sharper than any knife, were sure to cause some reaction. What frightened me more, though, as we all stood in silence in the aftermath of the harsh words, was the fact that they came from me.

Kadaj trained his unsteady eyes on me, and I resisted the urge to take a step back. I tried to regulate my breathing as I watched his hands clench and relax persistently against the metal of the gun as he waited for me to keep speaking, to continue, to anger him further.

"You – you're better than this!"

"You keep quiet, little Teefy Fair," he said coolly.

Strangely, I was trying to reason with him, because I understood. Hell is others, someone once said. I don't know who he was, but I bet he lived in a tiny, isolated village.

"I understand," I was saying. I was looking him right in the eye, ignoring the rain that slid through my eyelashes and pooled between the hood and shell. I was trying to make it right.

"No one does," he muttered.

Even through the rain that was slipping down his face with a speed I didn't understand, I could see tears breaching his lids and making a path over his skin amongst the water.

For a moment, I thought it was alright – I thought that Zack and I had managed to get through to him. But as a great crack of thunder rolled across the mountain, quivering over us and blanketing the village, he put the gun to his head and fired.

Chibi: well ... there you have it.

There's only three chapters left now!

The story will be ending soon :( hopefully you've all enjoyed it so far!

Thank you for reading, and please drop a review!