CHAPTER 12: FRAGMENTING
Nibelheim normally enjoyed mostly temperate summers. The cool, dry breeze from the mountains made the heat bearable and the warm season wholly enjoyable. But sometimes, the winds blew from the south, bringing stifling humidity with them. The heat seemed to multiply then, climbing alongside the barometer. When this happened, thunderstorms always followed to break the trend of oppressive heat and sweep away the murky air. Today was one of those days.
Tifa cried out as a boot collided with the small of her back, sending her hurtling forward toward the grass. She attempted to let the momentum carry her into a front handspring, but her palms slid along the dewy blades and she crashed into the earth chin first. Master Zangan's voice sounded, most likely asking if she was alright, but she barely heard it over her heart beating in her ears. Everything was wrong. Cloud had left their village a handful of weeks ago, traveling to Midgar and join SOLDIER and fulfill his dreams while she had no choice but to endure life under her father's brutal reign. She supposed she should've been happy for him and felt wicked for wishing he was back in this dead end place, but it was hard to see past her own crippling loneliness and the hopelessness that threatened to swallow her. Cloud promised he'd come back for her, but whether that was months or years or decades from now, she had no way of knowing. Climbing to her shaky feet, Tifa gasped for air before trying to swallow back a frustrated sob. Hopping back into fighting stance, she took in the sight of her opponent. Master Zangan was always solid as a stone when he fought, and not only in the strong positioning of his limbs and neck. His aging face, usually so full of expression, was utterly unreadable during battle. It reminded her of the faded letters carved into the stone on ancient tombstones at the rear of the little village cemetery where Mama was buried.
Still catching her breath, Tifa lunged forward into a series of punches and her heart leapt as her fist brushed the sleeve of her teacher's sparring tunic. Without meaning to, she made the mistake of flicking her eyes upward toward his face in that moment. She wasn't sure what she'd expected to find there: perhaps praying that she'd find excitement and approval on his features, for never before had she come so close to landing a hit on him. His eyes, almost as pale as her best friend's, were startling against the backdrop of grey storm clouds. Was the love of her life really going to come back for her after living such an exciting life in the largest city on Gaia? Would he forget about her?
Would she ever see his blue, blue eyes again?
Her teacher continued to block her advances, eyes boring down into her wine-colored ones. Tifa knew he was intimidating her, but she couldn't help but succumb to his oppressive glare. In half a second, Master Zangan caught her fist in his palm and whirled her around, pinning her right arm against her back while restraining her left arm with his own. Her mind scrambled to recall the proper technique to escape such a hold, but visions of a freckled smile from a certain blonde kept her mind from focusing upon anything but how impossible it would be to carry on if she never saw him again. Without him, she'd have to endure Papa's drunken aggressions and harsh words forever. While the angry press of his fingers into her skin left marks that usually disappeared in a week or two, the bruises his words left on her heart never healed. Instead of struggling, Tifa let herself fall limp in her teacher's arms. Zangan gently released his hold, keeping a supportive arm on her shoulder.
Hanging her head, she chuckled softly. "I almost got you."
"You may have landed a hit if you weren't so upset."
Turning her face up toward his, her eyebrows pressed themselves together. "How did you know? I didn't say anything."
"You say more with your face than you ever do with your words." It was Zangan's turn to let out a quiet laugh, his smile spreading his grey beard outwards in a way that Tifa was so familiar with. "Don't trust your opponent to know that you're feeling anything but confidence."
Somehow, Zangan always seemed to know what she was thinking. Aside from Cloud and his mother, her teacher was the only person who ever was willing to listen to the struggles of her heart. But the older man was different than Cloud and Claudia—and even different than Mama had been—in the method with which he came to understand his student. The man seemed to listen to the silent expressions of her feelings: in the movement of her arms, perhaps, or in the way she'd breathe. Occasionally, she'd indulge Zangan with her personal matters, but it always felt strange because her father had treated this sort of thing as irritating an unnecessary. Sharing the details of her day with an adult man was something Tifa had come to feel ashamed to do, even though Master was always patient and kind. Thankfully, he had come to be able to read her like a book and understood her better than most people in her life. Vocalizing the heaviness of her heart was never something she'd been proficient at, but with him, she didn't need to be. Unfortunately, this was proving not to be very convenient in the context of sparring.
"How do I do that?"
"By exercising two things: faith in your skills and perfecting your mask."
"My mask?"
"That's right," he said.
Turning to walk the quarter mile back to the village, he beckoned her with a smile and the flick of his wrist. Sweat beaded along his hairline, threatening to drip down into his bushy, grey eyebrows. The low rumble of thunder turned her eyes upward, watching the lightning flash within the cloud cover as she walked forward. The violent beauty of the brewing storm above the timberline may have made her gasp with pleasure if her heart hadn't already begun to sink with the knowledge that her session with Zangan was drawing to a close.
"Watching your body language—not just your expression—told me everything I needed to know about how you were feeling. Your distraction, frustration, and sadness are like giant bullseyes to your opponent. If your confidence is shaken, it will be almost impossible to win a fight, no matter your skill level."
Tifa looked down at her feet as she shuffled along beside him, face pink from the exertion of their spar and the suffocating wet heat in the air. "But how can I just make those feelings go away?"
"You can't, for your emotions are as much a part of you as your skin or your hair. A knight wears heavy armor not in an attempt to replace his flesh with steel, but to protect his sensitive, vulnerable body. Learning to erect a mask of serenity allows you to cover your face, which reflects the soft parts of your hear. Your mask makes you impenetrable to your foe. Let your face, your limbs, and your core put forth the appearance of a stone, featureless and blank. It's the best way to protect your heart and body from your enemies."
At home, Tifa had sprawled out on the back porch, listening to the cicadas drone as the storm slowly rolled in. It was hard to breathe since the air was so heavy. The sweat that dotted her entire body was cooled instantly by the rising wind that shook the tops of the trees, making their hiss join that of the cicadas. A shiver ran over her body from head to toe and she closed her eyes, trying to imagine how to construct a mask that would thwart her father's most foul accusations.
… … …
They'd been walking southward through the jungle for over a day, and the heat (and insects) were starting to take a toll on AVALANCHE. The air was hazy with humidity: the morning fog leaving midday only to return with the setting of the sun. Exhausted from over a dozen battles with monsters that morning, there wasn't much in the way of conversation. Even Aerith, who usually worked with Tifa to brighten up the crew's spirits with some light hearted banter, was trying not to pant from exertion and overheating. Tifa liked to wear her hair down. Taking up a 'boyish' hobby like martial arts had made her feel empowered, but also insecure, and leaving her long locks free made her feel like she could maintain her femininity. Thus, it was rare for her to tie back her ebony tresses. But now, it was pulled into a ponytail to keep as many strands as possible from sticking to the sweat on her face and neck. She didn't feel beautiful in the slightest.
But Aerith still looked lovely, somehow. Tifa could feel the beads of sweat dripping down the small of her back and there was blood crusted under her fighting gloves where her knuckles had split during their last fight. There was dirt on her knees and smudged across one shoulder and the bust of her tank top. The pink wasn't marred or damp at all, nor did auburn hair look frizzy or disheveled. If Tifa didn't believe there was something otherworldly about Aerith before, she surely would now. Since Mama died before she was old enough to inherit the secrets of feminine grace and mystique, she always felt a bit inadequate and disadvantaged when it came to having womanly wisdom and etiquette. Aria would've been lost! Maybe Aerith could help her out with Marlene when she was old enough.
Tifa was so exhausted it was all she could do to keep from groaning as she walked along. Everyone had become clumsy with fatigue, but not all decided to hold their tongue.
"Where th'hell is this place? An' why did we get outta the car?" Barret bellowed.
Of course, Yuffie could never pass up the chance to complain. "Yeah! At least it had air conditioning."
"And zero frogs," Cait Sith interjected.
Ahead of them, Cloud paused and pulled a worn map from the pocket of his fatigues. Tifa stepped beside him to glance down at where he was tracking their path with his pointer finger. His eyes were focused, expression taut with concern. As much as he tried to hide the way the team's criticisms shook his confidence, his wife could see it. As hard as he tried to wear his 'mask', it didn't fool her.
"We can't drive the buggy through the jungle, guys," Cloud sighed. A drop of sweat slid down the bridge of his nose and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. "The map says we're within a mile of Gongaga. It looks like there's a stream nearby. Let's take a break there."
The brook wasn't too far off the path. Red XIII almost ran to the water, lapping up greedy mouthfuls while the others plopped themselves to rest on a log or take out their canteens. Tifa made her way to the water's edge, her reflection wavering in the slow-moving current. After removing her gloves, she stooped to wash the blood off her knuckles and fingers. It was disorienting, and she had to stop and stare at her hands because she could scarcely believe that this person fighting monsters in the middle of a tropical jungle was actually her. Her fourteen year old self had imagined being married to Cloud, living a quiet life raising their children in their modest seaside home by the time she was twenty. At eighteen, she'd prayed that she would be able to make enough money in the next few years with her new business to help Barret raise enough money to put Marlene into pre-school. Never once did she imagine she'd be running around the planet on a dangerous wild goose chase.
Cupping water in her palms, she splashed her face and gasped with the relief of the coolness on her skin. Turning her face upward, Tifa realized she'd almost forgotten to take in the beauty of her surroundings. The songs of the tropical birds were as beautiful and diverse as the exotic flowers that dotted the trees and canopy. It was as if she had been on auto pilot and had suddenly woken up to the opportunity she had been presented with. Escaping Midgar and seeing the world had been dreams of hers, but so was understanding herself better. Maybe this messy situation would give her some insight into how to fix the broken parts of her—and hopefully Cloud, too.
She supposed that she must have looked silly there, squatting at the side of the stream and staring up at the dappled light that trickled through the thick tree cover. But the realization dawned upon her that perhaps she had strayed a bit from her master's teachings. Instead of erecting a mask in front of her enemies alone, she seemed to have one permanently hiding her true face. Tifa was so practiced at wearing a mask as a shield that it made her easily able to identify the masks of others. The flower girl was a mystery, though. She was one person that baffled Tifa because it seemed impossible to tell whether or not she was being genuine in her happiness or if it was a cover for something deeper.
Standing up, Tifa turned her head in search of Aerith. She stood near the pathway, eyes bright with what seemed to be wonder at the beauty of the world around them. But the way she bit her lip made Tifa's chest constrict with a strange tightness.
… … …
There was a faint scent of ash in the air, infiltrating the pleasant odor of damp earth and foliage that the dense jungle had offered. Cloud doubted that anyone else, except for Red XIII perhaps, could smell it. A shiver ran up his spine and tingled down his limbs before it weaved into his core. His instincts were set on edge. The scent of charred wood and earth summoned terrors of his home being devoured by smoke and flame, his mother limp and lifeless, feelings of helplessness and paralyzing fear…
The whispers inside him seemed excited, despite his solemn reminiscing. If Cloud was honest with himself, he'd admit that it wasn't truly the map that kept him on the correct path to their destination, but he'd check it occasionally to be sure. There was something inside his being that remembered these obscure dirt paths through the high grasses and tropical woodlands. Something was filling his chest with a sort of positive anxiety as they approached what seemed to be a clearing. Why did his feet know which path to walk? Why was his heart yearning to reach Gongaga? He didn't recall ever being there before. Was this what Hojo had been talking about? Maybe something really was calling him. But what?
Upon reaching the large clearing, the team gasped at the sight before them. A looming structure stood in the middle of the flat expanse, trembling in the heart of the midday sun. The building seemed as if it had once had a rounded top, but the ceiling had been blown out, like a broken egg with half of its shell missing. Scattered around the large, flat space were over a dozen destroyed buildings. Some had a wall or two standing, but most of them were little more than their cement foundations. Cloud led the way and AVALANCHE followed the path, which was now gravel, into what was left of the enormous building. Broken pipework was exposed, along with metal twisted by heat and force. Some of the floor grating was still intact, but most of it had been blown into a hundred pieces scattered amongst the towering piles of debris. There were large toppled cylinders of steel, thick rubber hoses, and metal coils scattered about. Wiring of all colors and thicknesses was strung about like haphazard party décor, swinging lazily in the occasional breeze.
Cloud knew right away that it had been a mako reactor. He'd certainly been in enough of them to know what they looked like. The smell of raw mako, which made his insides curdle and stomach lurch, still lingered in the air. There was something so eerie about this place, and he knew that each one of them felt unnerved by the way they kept crowded together. Cloud had assumed that Yuffie would've taken this opportunity to scavenge the area for material, but even she hung close to Tifa while loosely gripping Red XIII's mane. It was a rare moment of relative silence among the six of them. Two pieces of metal clanged softly together as the wind made them sway, almost sounding like a solemn little bell in the quiet.
Before long, the sound of a helicopter approached. The red ShinRA logo painted on the side had them scrambling for cover among the rubble. After it landed in the clearing outside, Cloud closed his eyes and tried to focus all his attention upon hearing the conversation being had by the approaching voices. It wasn't the easiest thing to do with Cait Sith's enormous belly swelling into his back and Barret's sweaty shoulder pushing into his cheek. He recognized both voices immediately: Tseng and Scarlet. They had come to the reactor searching for something called a 'huge materia'. After a brief glance at the state of the facility, Scarlet knew they wouldn't find it here. She told Tseng that finding such a materia would give them the capacity to construct grand weaponry, which was disturbing to team AVALANCHE. If their enemies were to find it, what exactly would they be up against? Cloud had to make sure that they located this huge materia before ShinRA did.
They were gone almost as quickly as they came, to everyone's relief. Cloud winced at the sudden sound of Tifa, Aerith and Red XIII crashing out of their hiding place behind a thick metal sheet Tifa had been holding up in front of them.
"Oops, sorry," she said, flashing a sheepish smile. "It slipped out of my fingers."
Aerith looked alarmed. "Did you hear that? What could they be making a weapon for?"
"To fashion a weapon against Sephiroth?"
"Th'hell would that do?"
"What kind of weapon could they make that would be able to withstand that guy? Did you see what he did to that Midgar Zolom?!"
Cloud quietly listened, pondering the same thoughts, before speaking. "We heard that Sephiroth was searching for the 'black materia'. Is it possible that both he and ShinRA looking for the same thing?"
"You think the black materia could be the 'huge' materia?" Tifa asked, brushing the dirt from her knees. "It must be really powerful."
Yuffie puffed out her cheeks as she looked skyward in thought. "No, I think they're different. The black materia sounds specific, a huge materia can be any materia, as long as it's big."
"If th'huge materia is just powerful 'cause of its size an' the black materia is of a normal size, what would Sephiroth want with it? What's it do?"
Cloud narrowed his eyes as he glanced at the destruction around them. "Whatever it does, it can't be good if he wants it."
… … …
She had stopped where a narrow footpath branched off from the dirt road to Gongaga Village. It led to a small cemetery—grey grave markers nestled between overgrowing grasses and ferns. Tifa apologized for slowing their progress, but there was something about the cluster of graves that called her to them with a sort of magnetic sadness, heavy and deep. Cloud had met her eyes and agreed at once, deciding to wander about the small space by her side.
Seeing the neat writing on each of the stones reminded her of the only one she'd ever spent any time in front of: her mother's. Though she had long come to terms with Lia's passing, guilt grazed over her heart. On her wedding day, she'd knelt in front of Mama's grave and promised to come back and visit. It had been five years since she'd made that vow, and she had never had the means to return to Nibelheim. Part of her realized that while her mother's body lay underneath her marble grave stone, her spirit was not there. But Tifa wanted to keep that promise, just in case. She supposed it couldn't hurt; but if her mother really was there, then she probably wouldn't recognize her daughter in the slightest. Leaving with Cloud for Midgar and having to survive there on her own had changed her so dramatically, both on the inside and out.
"Cloud, look," Tifa said, gently reaching to wrap her fingers around his forearm and tug him closer. "They all died on the same day."
Tilting his head, Cloud inspected the stones. Each one passed away on the same date three years ago and the discovery left him feeling unnerved. "There must've been some sort of accident."
Tifa squatted beside one particular stone, running her fingers along the letters of an epitaph. In a solemn voice, she read it out loud. "Noa Dorough. Twenty eight years old. The explosion took you from our lives, but nothing can take you from our hearts."
"The explosion? Do you think it's referring to the mako reactor?"
"It must be."
The couple spent a few quiet minutes reading the names of the victims of the reactor accident, reflecting on the harrowing fact that ShinRA's reaches destroyed lives in even a remote place such as Gongaga.
"Do you think Nibelheim has a section of the graveyard like this now?" Tifa asked quietly, reaching to brush a stray branch of a fern away from the face of a stone. "You said Sephiroth killed everyone when our home burned. Your mom, my dad…everyone. All bearing the same death date on their grave stones."
Swallowing hard, Cloud blinked back visions of flames licking the sky and tried to suppress memories of the sounds of screaming that were drowned out by the crackling of the fire and the hissing of burning wood. "I suppose it might, now, if anyone bothered to erect grave markers for them."
Mom.
He frowned, images flooding forth without order or reason. Brain tingling, he pictured his mother, her jet black hair pulled back with twine at the base of her neck. She'd fuss over his scraped knees and chin, but always cut up melon cubes for him to snack on while she cleaned and bandaged his cuts. While she'd mildly scold him for his horseplay, there was always boundless love in her deep brown eyes. He made sure to hug her with his sticky fingers before running off to play again.
Wait. His mind was trying to reason that something was wrong, but his heart told him otherwise. His mother…
"I know it's selfish," Tifa began, unaware of Cloud's internal chaos. "But if we get the chance, do you think we can visit home? I want to make gravestones for Brian and Claudia if no one had any made. I'd like to pay my respects to my parents' graves and I'm sure you would, too."
Cloud blinked at his wife as the names of her father and his mother rolled off her tongue. Claudia? He remembered her long, blonde ponytail swinging as she hung washed wool to dry on the laundry line. Mom's vibrant blue eyes reminded him of the sky on the summer days that they'd spent walking together, gathering wildflowers in the meadow. The hands that worked tirelessly making clothing and chopping firewood had always held his with tenderness, especially when he suffered from illness. His heart began to thud in his chest, thoughts becoming murky and turbid with doubt. Stifling the overwhelming sense of isolation and loneliness that came with such uncertainty, Cloud tried his best to pull himself back into the present.
"Yes, of course."
He took her hand and she gave it a little squeeze, enjoying his attention. In a spontaneous bout of playfulness, she raised herself on her toes to plant a lightning-fast kiss on the bridge of his nose. The resulting momentary smile that tugged at his lips gave her hope.
"It'll be hard to see Nibelheim leveled to the ground when we get there," Tifa said, eyes lowering to study the exposed screws on Cloud's pauldron. "I honestly don't know how I'll react or what way my grief will manifest itself. But I think that it'll all be alright in the end, since I have you with me. No one else can understand the loss of our home like you and I can."
"It's still so fresh in my mind. Maybe it would give us some closure to say goodbye to Nibelheim together."
"I feel like that's the only way I could possibly bear it."
"Yeah." Cloud absentmindedly raised his palm to cup the back of her head. "Don't worry. After all we've been through, I'm sure we can take something like that on together."
Tifa let her forehead rest against his chest for a moment, letting the idea creep into her heart that maybe she could start to lower her mask around Cloud. She wanted so badly to trust him completely once more. It would take such strength to do so—trusting anyone with all of the vulnerable parts of her had always been hard for her, but never with her husband. It was easy to feel caught between the guilt of hiding the tender areas of her heart and the fear of exposing those wounds to more possible trauma. His scent, familiar and at the same time a little foreign, relaxed her.
Cloud led her back to the road and the team followed the crude wooden signs for Gongaga, continuing their trek north. There was no village gate or even a town square, just a cluster of sad little huts and tents, crudely constructed, almost as if they were temporary structures instead of people's homes. Tifa was reminded instantly of the slums, where people lived in squalor and poverty and had become nasty and spiteful as a result. But the residents of Gongaga were exactly the opposite. They smiled at their party as they walked past. Women waved from where they were stringing laundry across a line to dry and men called out in greeting from their sawing table or garden. A small gaggle of children shuffled along to their 'classroom' in a large lean-to with a thatched roof where their teacher waited for them to return from their lunch break.
According to the dates on the grave stones, the reactor exploded three years ago. It seemed that Gongaga had actually been located down the hill, where the reactor was. At least that's what the map said. But it looked like after the tragedy occurred, the remaining population had fled up the hill to resettle in a haphazard community that seemed more like a camp than a little town. Tifa couldn't help but wonder how many people lived in the village before the explosion.
"I wonder if they have a shop," Red XIII wondered aloud.
"Yeah, we need to restock our Maiden's Kiss potions after Tifa kept letting herself get turned into a frog!"
"Hey!" Tifa objected. "I gave you my ribbon to keep you from that, Yuffie! If you didn't have that, you'd have been 'frogged' just as many times as Aerith and I."
Deciding to ask, Aerith called out to a woman who was laying fresh herbs and lavender upon a flat stone to be dried by the sun. She pointed in the direction of a tiny wooden structure a little ways down the path and the Cetra smiled in thanks. But before the party could get very far, a man called out in their direction, waving an arm and hustling toward them. His grey hair was slicked back behind his ears and there were lines from age around his eyes and in the corners of his mouth.
"Excuse me, young man!"
Cloud stopped and turned to acknowledge him. It was strange to watch someone refer to her husband in such a manner. Even though Tifa had known him since she was scarcely a year old (and he only two), Cloud had never seemed like a young man. The way he'd carried himself, approached problems, and planned for his future made him seem like an old man in a child's body. While Tifa had always admired his responsible nature, she had always wished he'd been a little less solemn and more playful in the years before mother died. It was only after that that she came to understand how hardship can strip one of their frivolousness.
"Mako eyes! A black uniform! By any chance, are you in SOLDIER?" the man asked with a smile. Moving to stand at his full height in front of Cloud, Tifa was impressed with how he was a full head's length above her husband, even though he was aging.
"Yeah," Cloud nodded, looking a bit startled. "Former SOLDIER, actually."
"Please, won't you come in for just a moment? I won't take up much of your time, I'd just like to ask you something."
"Sure."
The team split up, then, Aerith and Tifa accompanied Cloud while the others headed off toward the shop. The trio was escorted into a tiny round brick hut with a wooden door. Inside was a two-room dwelling with minimal furnishing—the only décor being a worn area rug underneath a small table, a futon and a potted plant on a chest of drawers in front of a solitary window. There was a woman of late middle age bent over a small clay oven that stood when they entered. Her brown eyes widened in surprise at the sight of three guests.
"Oh—welcome!" she said, hastily wiping her hands on her apron. "Shaun, who did you bring to visit?"
"A SOLDIER, Ella! This is…"
"Cloud."
"I'm Tifa, nice to meet you."
"Name's Aerith!"
"They're travelers passing through. When I saw those mako eyes, I just had to stop him!"
Ella seemed torn between trying to be hospitable and asking a question that seemed ready to leap from her tongue. She had grabbed a teapot, meaning to fill it with water to prepare some refreshments for their guests, but ended up studying Cloud instead. There was a sparkle in her eyes when she smiled at him, and the blonde couldn't turn his gaze away from her own. There was something achingly familiar about her, a sense of strange nostalgia and indistinct sadness rushing over him like an icy wind.
"Oh, you're right! You wouldn't happen to know anything about our son, would you? His name is Zack Fair." She ran a hand over her grey hair that was smoothed back into a neat bun. "It's been close to ten years since he left for the city, saying that he didn't want to live in the country. He left saying he's going to join SOLDIER. You ever hear of him?"
Something was screaming so loudly inside him that it was difficult for Cloud to pay complete attention to the conversation at hand. Zack Fair…Zack Fair… The name wasn't ringing any bells, but there was something that gnawed inside him for a reason that Cloud couldn't determine. To his left, Tifa looked at her husband expectantly, wanting an explanation as much as Mr. and Mrs. Fair did. She was embarrassed to realize that since Cloud had disappeared after leaving on his mission to Nibelheim, the subject of Zack's wellbeing and whereabouts had only entered her mind a scant handful of times. At the time, she'd been so grieved and paralyzed with fear over giving birth and raising her baby alone in the slums to exhaust herself over wondering what had happened to her husband's best friend. Zack had always been a pillar of strength for Cloud, giving him hope when he had none and a filling in the gaping hole in his heart where he'd always craved benign male companionship. If it wasn't for his friend, Tifa doubted that their transition to Midgar would have been half as smooth as it had been. Although her shyness and muted fear of SOLDIERs had kept her from forming a strong bond with Zack at the time, he'd always been a joy to have over for dinner or join for short excursions on Midgar's upper plate.
What had happened to him? He had been with Cloud on that fateful mission to Nibelheim. Perhaps hearing her husband explain would provide some insight into the mystery of where he'd been for the past five years.
"Hmm. I don't know," Cloud said with a shrug.
Tifa's jaw dropped. She almost spoke in objection, but closed her mouth again. What was he talking about? How can he act so nonchalant about all of this? These were his parents, after all. They deserved to know what happened to their son. Tifa was certain that she would've lived each day in misery if she hadn't known what had happened to her daughter, and her heart broke on the spot for Ella and Shaun. Shock and anger threatened to spill out of her lips, but her respect for her husband and her lack of knowledge on the subject held her back. Maybe there was a good reason why Cloud was pretending not to know their son that she didn't know of, but it was hard to think of leaving the Fair family in the dark. A dark thought wormed its way into her heart: how could Cloud empathize with these desperate parents if he himself didn't want to discuss his own daughter or learn more about her? He'd never even asked her name.
"There were quite a few members of SOLDIER, especially of second and third class ranks," Cloud continued. "It would've been easy for us to have missed one another."
"Ah," sighed Ella, shoulders slumping as her hope deflated. "I see."
From her place beside Tifa, Aerith folded her hands together in front of her. Her head hung like a dying flower, and her whisper was almost inaudible. "Zack…"
Noticing her reaction, Shaun clung to hope. "Young lady, do you know him? I remember he wrote us six or seven years ago saying that he had a girlfriend. Could that have been you?"
Both Cloud and Tifa looked at her, eyes wide with wonder at the revelation. Her green eyes were glued to the floor, haunted and full of emotion.
"I…I can't…" she stuttered, voice wavering uncharacteristically. "Excuse me."
She exited the tiny home quickly, shutting the door swiftly and quietly behind her.
… … …
The new spring grass was plush and the thawed earth soft beneath his bare feet. Cloud's body tingled with excitement as he pranced through his front yard, fists clenched tightly around a precious treasure. There was a loose cobblestone at the edge of the street in front of his home, hidden in the thick grass near a post of the fence that separated his yard from Tifa's. He'd discovered his hiding place the autumn before, a hole deeper underneath it with his mother's gardening trowel so that he could fit a small, tin coffee can beneath the stone. How clever he had been to think of such a thing!
Grin splitting his face, Cloud crouched to pick up the stone, pulled out the metal container and brushed the loose dirt off with his free hand. Plump cheeks rosy with glee and the chill of the early morning air, he pulled the top off of his treasure tin. It was something only he knew about—not even Tifa or Mom! He took a moment to admire the contents at the bottom of the coffee tin.
"Good morning, Cloud. What do you have there?"
Cloud nearly jumped out of his skin! The voice was gentle and familiar, but it had startled him nonetheless. Lia Lockhart leaned gracefully over the fence, carrying a carton of eggs. Her merry red eyes were exactly like her daughter's and they made Cloud feel instantly calmed. Tifa's mom was a nice lady who told him he was handsome and dear, and gave him sweets when she baked them. Tifa's father had never seemed very friendly toward him or his mother. But ever since Cloud and Tifa had gotten lost in the woods one evening, Mr. Lockhart always seemed to scowl at him or scold him for one thing or another (even after apologizing for bringing Tifa home after sunset). The cool breeze blew Lia's long black hair as she smiled down at him, and Cloud felt both a sense of relief at knowing he was safe and disappointment that someone had discovered his secret.
"Good morning, Mrs. Lockhart. Uh, it's where I keep my treasures."
"How special! May I see some of them?"
Now that his secret was no longer his own, Cloud supposed it would be fun to share. He nodded up at her with a smile and she came around the fence to kneel neatly at his side, setting her eggs down beside her. Lia rubbed her palm over his wild blonde hair and he handed her the tin. Cloud watched with pride as she carefully spilled the contents onto the apron across her lap and smiled when she gasped with wonder. He thought that she must think he was quite grown-up and clever for only being six years old, and soaked in her attention like a sponge. Most adults looked away from him and his mom as they walked about the town and tended to their errands, but never Mrs. Lockhart. Cloud could count on one hand the number of adults he trusted, and Lia was one of them. She smelled like something sweet as he leaned into her shoulder, blue eyes watching her turn his collection over in her hands.
"Look at these! What remarkable treasures. Surely there is a story to go along with each one." She selected a smooth, red rock and held it flat on her palm. "What about this one?"
"I found it when I went walking with Mom by the river. It was a happy day!"
Lia hummed in appreciation before choosing a clear marble. "And this?"
"Tifa gave it to me for my birthday last year after we ate my birthday cake and played at the stream."
She held up a handsome little blue ribbon and smiled at the instant grin that formed between his round cheeks. Cloud reached out to take it in a rush of excitement.
"This was from the day I won the spelling competition at school!"
"Is this a cinnamon candy?"
"Yes. Miss Carrie gave it to me when I felt sick."
May I ask what are you adding to it, today?"
Cloud blinked in surprise, for he had almost forgotten that he was been holding something. He stuck out his hand toward her and slowly opened his fingers to reveal a small pine cone. It was from the tree in his back yard, and he had selected it quite carefully. Lia gasped and told him that it was lovely, inspecting it and turning it over in her fingers before asking him why he was adding it to his collection.
"Today was the first day ever that I tried to climb the tree and made it to the first branch. All the kids at school say that I'm too small and weak to do it, but I proved them wrong today."
"Of course you did," she said with a smile, and his heart felt so joyous at her confidence in him.
Together, they carefully placed the handfuls of stickers and coins and objects back in their tin, along with the newest addition of the pinecone. Lia pulled Cloud onto her lap and let him hold the container. Mom's voice was kind and cheery and energetic, but Tifa's mother sounded as peaceful and a lullaby and just as comforting.
"What made that pinecone more special that all of the ones that had fallen on the ground, Cloud?"
"Because it came from th'branch I climbed to."
"That's right. And every time you look at that, you'll remember that you are brave and strong and can do things others don't think is possible," she cooed, handing him the lid to the can. "It seems that your memories are what make your marble or pebble or pine cone different from any other. They aren't your real treasures are they?"
"What do you mean?" Cloud asked. He looked up at her, confusion swimming in his eyes, but she reassured him with a smile.
"Moments, people, feelings…those are the real treasures. The things in your can are simply reminders of the things your heart loves. And life is about collecting them."
… … …
The crickets chirped loudly as the sun began to set over the tree line. Cloud had been working hard all afternoon, climbing trees and collecting tropical fruit for his team as a token of thanks for the hospitality of some of the locals. Most seemed to old or too young to gather food efficiently, since many of Gongaga's working age citizens seemed to have perished in the accident. It was difficult labor, but Cloud didn't mind. His mako enhanced body was more than able to handle it and the distraction and time away from his team had been what he needed for a little bit. Both Aerith and Tifa had been acting so strangely since their encounter with the couple who asked them about their son.
Zack… Cloud had dismissed them, but the name burned on in his mind like a persistent ember.
He'd chased her after she'd fled the conversation with Zack's parents. Aerith had tried to hide between the back of a hut and a large boulder, but her pink bow attracted his eyes like a magnet. Seeing her there so distressed made all sorts of emotions ebb and flow inside his chest. Cloud knew he was never the best at consoling others, but he couldn't stop himself from trying. When he had reached out to touch her shoulder, there was stillness and chaos all at once in his brain and he'd almost recoiled from the shock of it all. Visions and voices struck him almost violently, and he'd shivered.
A pair of slender arms draped over his shoulders, the tinkling of her bangles as they passed over his collarbone. Sitting and despairing on the church floor.
When Aerith turned to face him at last, Cloud tried his best to pull himself together. There was only hollowness and sadness in her eyes, where he'd expected to find tears. She had answered his questions with a solemn sort of calm, but never gave a clear explanation for her behavior earlier. Instead, Aerith told him that she'd been overwhelmed by all the death she'd sensed as they approached Gongaga. Discovering the ruined reactor explained the source of the suffering that she'd detected, and seeing the poor parents searching for their son had been enough to break her. Cloud could understand how all that could be emotionally overwhelming, but there was still something strange about it. In retrospect, he should have pressed the issue for Aerith's emotional sake. It might have been better to suggest she talk it out with one of their teammates if she hadn't been comfortable expressing herself to him.
But he hadn't been thinking of these things. Cloud supposed that he wasn't truly processing much at all, so much as attempting to put his thoughts into some kind of order, but they felt like sand pouring from a sack.
He tried to discuss Aerith's strange state with Tifa, for his wife had also seemed to be acting strangely. But she had been helping Yuffie pick burrs out of her hair (after an unsuccessful materia hunt) and told him that she'd meet up with him as soon as she was done. So here he was, perched on the highest branch of a mango tree, wondering about all of the strange things that had happened that day. Wiping the back of his hand across his forehead, Cloud paused to admire the pink and orange hues of the sky as the sun set on the horizon. He was so lonesome. Something about the environment and the circumstances had disturbed something deep inside him but he couldn't understand it and didn't know where to find solace.
The sound of footsteps and rustling leaves caught his attention and he looked down toward the dirt pathway.
"Cloud? Is that you?" Tifa approached, looking upward through the foliage.
The buster sword was leaning against the tree trunk, surrounded by a collection of mangoes, marking his whereabouts. He looked down at her, taking a moment to admire how sweet her face looked when she was confused and how pretty her eyes looked in the orange glow of late afternoon.
"Yeah, I'm here."
Maneuvering himself to the lowest branch, Cloud reached out a hand to pull her up. Amusement glinted in her eyes as she played along, taking his hand and letting him hoist her up into the tree. Tifa's giggle made his chest feel warm and full; the feel of her palm against his awakening some sort of long lost sense of refuge. Secured between him and the tree trunk, Tifa let Cloud put his arm across her shoulders and rest his hand on the bark.
"Are you finished rescuing Yuffie?"
She chuckled and smiled at her lap. "Yes, she's free now. But you know that she never stays out of trouble for long."
"Did Aerith come back to camp?"
"No," she answered. Lifting her gaze to the horizon, she drew in a quiet breath. "I tried to ask her what was going on, but she didn't seem willing to discuss it. Maybe she doesn't feel comfortable enough with me—I don't know. I'm sure she'll come back after she's had some time to herself."
Cloud looked at her then, seeing her more with his heart than with his eyes. Tifa had always been a sensitive person. Her personal failures or shortcomings had always frustrated her and Cloud hated to watch her despair over hopelessness or circumstances that were beyond her control. His wife's heart would bleed when others were hurting, and she'd bow her head to her enemies before she'd ever let any of her loved ones know harm. And so, he knew that his return into her life and this trek across the globe had been taking a significant toll upon her emotions. Watching the people she'd come to admire endure their own struggles was hard for her; Tifa always wanted to lift those she cared about out of negativity and discontent. But now, he seemed as powerless as she was.
All he could do was nod sympathetically. "I'm sure she'll be alright. She told me that she was overwhelmed when we first reached the reactor—something about sensing all the death that happened there."
Tifa was certain that Aerith's sudden disappearance had more to do with the discussion with Mr. and Mrs. Fair than the accident three years ago. "An unfortunate perk of being a Cetra, huh?"
He nodded, making a low humming noise in his throat. Beside him, Tifa bent her head forward. Employing her old trick of obscuring her eyes with her bangs, she tried her best to hide her expression as her mind frantically searched for the words to say. She wanted so badly to ask why Cloud had denied knowing Zack, but wasn't sure how she should inquire about it. Was it even a good idea? Each day, she'd watched her husband carefully, trying to make sense of his strange behavior and even stranger recollection of past events (or lack thereof). It was clear that he wasn't always being truthful, though he seemed genuine enough as he spoke. But if she was being honest with herself, she had to face the fact that she was uncertain what was truth and what was posturing on his part. Had he really been training to become a member of SOLDIER for all those lost years? Why hadn't he ever contacted her? When she asked him about it, he was always defensive and grew irritable, but could never provide her with a concrete answer.
She wanted to trust him so badly, but it came down to two possibilities: he was either deliberately lying or he was deeply psychologically distressed.
If the latter was the case, how could she possibly ask him about Zack? Tifa was reluctant to shake things up after enjoying what seemed to be the slow repair of their bond over the past few weeks. What if she inquired about Zack and it made him defensive and angry again? The last thing she wanted was for Cloud to start pushing himself away from her again. But even more frightening was the possibility of shattering his fragile mental state. He seemed so delicate, and she was determined to handle him with care. But what was the right thing to do? Was it really morally acceptable to lie to Zack's parents? Either option made her frightened and unsettled.
Since their reunion, it seemed to Tifa that their relationship had become like the tide: rising and falling, never staying constant. Before he'd disappeared, they'd both worked together to meet their goals, like two horses pulling the same cart. But now, Tifa wasn't even sure of what their goals were aside from tracking down Sephiroth and destroying ShinRA before the company could hurt anyone else. Being separated so long had not only thrown off the way they connected, but they'd lost their sense of purpose along the way. It made her insecure and she didn't know how to fix it.
"Are you alright?" he asked. "You looked pretty spooked after Aerith walked out of the conversation with that couple."
She knew she could be with him forever, mold herself to be what he wanted or needed. But the thought was so deeply unsatisfying because once upon a time, he'd loved her so deeply for who she was? Wasn't it all those childhood days spent in each other's company that made him fall in love with the person she'd always been at her core? She'd worn so many masks since Cloud had disappeared, her baby died, and her life had crashed down around her. Poverty and loneliness had shaped her into a chameleon of sorts, forcing her to morph into whatever she needed to be to please the right people and ward off the ever growing number of ghosts that always lingered at the borders of her consciousness.
In principle, she would've never wanted to replace her true self with whatever might please Cloud, because she should feel safe enough in her marriage to let her guard down. But she shouldn't have to change, because Cloud had loved her. The problem was, she wasn't sure who her true self was anymore. She'd wandered so far from the little bright eyed girl he'd known in their babyhood. She didn't know how to cope with the thought of having to cover up her true self daily and wear whatever mask he fancied. If he didn't change, it would be a hard road. But she was loyal to him. Tifa wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to open herself up again and make herself vulnerable to him.
If he took off his mask, then so would she. Until then, was it wise to continue to hide like this?
She frowned in thought, tightening her fingers around the branch on which she sat. "I think so. Seeing the faces of those poor parents sort of broke my heart a little. When you disappeared, ShinRA told me you were dead. Zack disappeared, and they don't know what happened to him at all. Perhaps he's still alive somewhere if they never got a letter."
"Yeah. It's gotta be hard to lack closure like that."
Tifa swallowed the urge to bring up Aria. There was an anger that had sunken to the bottom of her belly and sat there, like the ugly slime at the bottom of a lake. Zack's parents were still desperate to know anything about him after all this time. Cloud hadn't asked about his daughter even once since she'd first let him know that he died. It wasn't clear to her why exactly she was so upset about it was it because she felt like he didn't care about his own child or was it because she was lonesome in her grief and wanted to share it with the only person who could mourn their baby like she could? Turning to look at him, she searched his eyes for the love of her life, but all she found was a wall—a mask.
"Kind of like me when it comes to Nibelheim. You were there when it burned, but my last memory of home was being merrily waved off by your mother as we left for Midgar."
"If you really want to see for yourself, we'll go. Do you think you can handle seeing that place burnt to the ground?"
"I don't know. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since we saw the burned out reactor. It made me wonder if there was anything left of my parents' house. But either way, I'd like to pay my respects."
At the same time that she sought to express her thoughts, Tifa had been fishing for two things: comfort from her husband regarding the loss of their childhood home and to invite him to share his grief about it with her. She craved his heart like a newborn craves milk: for nourishment, for comfort, and to sustain her emotionally as she tried to grow in their marriage. But he'd only nodded, and it left her feeling empty and unsatisfied.
He had to save their relationship from the ever growing chasm between them. Hiding the parts of his past and obscuring his heart had created an ever expanding ocean between them; their shores slowly separating without a bridge. As much as things had been a bit more comfortable between them lately, Tifa admitted to herself that they still felt like strangers.
If only he'd soften himself in front of her, even if just for a little while.
… … …
A/N: I loved Zack, I really did. Rarely do I enjoy a simply heroic character with minimal flaws, but Zack Fair wormed his way into my heart! Crisis Core's story was a little flat IMHO, but I really did enjoy getting to know the man that Cloud idolized. Seeing the integrity of Cloud's hero makes us understand Cloud's heart a little more. I played the original game before Crisis Core. Despite the OG not really giving us detailed information about Zack, the scene where his parents start asking about him was really quite painful and significant to me. I couldn't write this story without examining this event.
I always wondered why Aerith denied knowing Zack in this scene. I'll express my thoughts through Aerith in a few chapters, but was it unclear to anyone else?
Thank you for your opinions on writing my two FFXV one-shots. I don't plan to put In This Cage on hold to write them, since it takes me so long to get chapters out for this fic, and you all deserve priority. However, I plan to chip away on those fics here or there and record my ideas. So no worries, onward we go with FFVII! And as always, thank you for your kind feedback.
