.
10. Accuse
"You were in love with her." Tifa pressed her hand so hard against the tree it indented in her palm. She felt like it was the only thing propping her upright.
Cloud said nothing. He didn't even turn around.
She bit her lip. The whole point of their complicated dance was that nobody came out and said what was going on. Now one dancer was missing, and the two who were left were stumbling without her.
"C-Cloud?" Tifa cleared her throat to force out the hesitancy in her voice.
He still didn't turn. It was difficult to tell if his shoulders raised. His strong back didn't look hunched, but what did she know? They'd been apart for years. How much did she actually know Cloud anymore? How much had she known in the first place, aside from his decency and that he would've done anything for her when they were kids.
They weren't kids anymore. To kids, dying meant shoving a wooden sword under your arm and falling into a complicated swoon until you got cramp and yelled to switch games. You could resurrect and become anything you wanted: master swordsman, circus acrobat, lion tamer, famous explorer, or whatever else you imagined.
Right now, Tifa would have settled for… well, anything but this. The lake lapped quietly at Cloud's feet. His pants were still soaked from wading into it.
"Cl-" she started.
"Tifa," he finally said, quietly but firmly. "Leave me alone."
She reeled, stung. Fresh hurt piled on top of her grief. He wasn't the only one who had lost something today. "All right," she snapped.
He stayed where he was as she fled.