Chapter 13 : souvenir, hair, and running

—

The door slammed and the shout that followed echoed in her head. She could feel it bouncing around in her skull. She rocked back and forth on her knees, covering her ears in hope of becoming deaf, and murmuring a futile prayer -please, please, please- she wished would be heard.

There was a voice, much more loud than the other, that made her close her eyes. It didn't sound like usual. It was high-pitched, violent, sharp, nasty; it wasn't sweet and calm anymore, and the usual indifference was not there.

Another door slammed. This time the room was quieter, and would be altogether silent if it wasn't for the furious pacing. She still did not dare to move away from her secret spot, because who knew who left and who stayed. Yes, the restless steps were heavy, but both were angry, and you're never yourself when you're angry.

She never tried to eavesdrop, but with the loud voice -only one was booming- it was hard not to.

"You're such a bastard!"

"It's none of your business!"

"I'm stuck here all day! You left me alone first!"

"Would it kill you to be nice? And I'm not yelling, goddamn it!"

What she needs is a distraction.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven..."

After all, there isn't much to do in a bedroom closet.

—

It was clear to Tifa that all Nibelheim students had a flair for dramatics. Perhaps the boring routines they lived through every day needed to be spiced up a little?

"I swear, if I had known calling you back was that urgent, I would have."

"Not the point," Yuffie chimed in.

There was a silence, and the atmosphere was filled with a sudden awkwardness that made Tifa uncomfortable. It certainly wasn't Aerith's and Yuffie's overreaction that made her nervous, but her very own reaction. Would she yell? Would she get fed up? She highly doubted something productive or even remotely worthwhile would come from of this improvised meeting. There was nothing to do but to keep calm and respectful.

"Girls, I'm going to be late," Tifa said, sliding down from the desk she was seated on.

"I'm serious here. I was just worried."

"I'm sure. But can we talk about all this later? I honestly have to go to class."

"You know it doesn't matter."

Tifa stopped in her tracks, her hand on the doorknob. What answer was the good one?

"It matters to me, Aerith. I thought it was pretty obvious."

She slipped out of the room before her friends could reply, leaving the door to shut noisily behind her. Maybe that had been too bold. But she couldn't always follow the flock and agree with everything the elite said just so they wouldn't turn against her. So much had changed since she had moved, but she wouldn't be lying if she said she wouldn't care if they made some sort of social outcast and banished her to the ravens. In fact, she realized, she wouldn't mind at all. But why throw away what you gained? She wasn't foolish enough to dismiss any friendship she might have made thus far.

It was a slow walk to her English class. They were having their first oral presentation of the year, and Tifa knew she would interrupt the team presenting today by coming in late. Once she was in front of the door, she stood staring at the class through the small window. The team was made up of three guys and one girl she didn't know. They all seemed nervous but bored, save for one guy who was nearly bouncing on his toes and grinning from ear to ear. He was talking animatedly, waving his hands around to illustrate what he was saying. Unlike his teammates he wasn't clutching a paper with what Tifa guessed was their text.

It surprised Tifa that she was curious to listen to what made this guy so passionate. She didn't want to disturb him though, as she believed it would be a shame to make him lose his train of thoughts. Not long after, another guy took over, and Tifa used the transition to enter the room. Fitzpatrick didn't say anything but his glower didn't give her the urge to snicker. She took the nearest seat, under the window, and quietly laid her backpack on the desk. Her eyes felt heavy and she had to fight the itch to sleep. As she tuned out one of the guys talking about the cultural revolution that had occurred over fifty years ago, Tifa stared at the bouncy guy. There was still a faint smile lingering on his lips and in his eyes. There was an undeniable… how could she say? Cheerfulness, maybe. It didn't matter; he was the first person that looked honestly comfortable.

At this thought Tifa sat upright in her chair. She felt like shouting "Exactly" and pumping her fist in the air, but only whispered, "yes" under her breath. She just needed to be comfortable. It wasn't about accepting or being accepted; it was about feeling at ease where she was. To find the perfect comfort zone she only had to make people see her point: if she wanted to be friends with whomever she desired, then she would be.

Feeling suddenly lighter than she had since her first day at Nibelheim High, Tifa crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. She had finally figured it out.

—

The Mechanics classroom was almost empty when Tifa stepped inside; only a couple of students were standing on the other side of the room. Either Highwind was absent or he had chosen this day to bring them to the auto-shop. She didn't bother informing the other guys of her thoughts as she exited the class and walked down the hallway. To her despair, she knew the way to the auto-shop by heart. It didn't take long before she reached the place and was greeted by a grin from Reno and a frown from Cid. Most of the students were dispersed around the room in groups of two or three. It seemed as though the instructions had already been given. Tifa didn't make any comment about how she should have known about the auto-shop when Cid glared at her and pointed at a lonely guy. Sighing, she strolled toward him.

"Hey."

The guy raised his head in surprise at her voice, nearly banging it against the open door. This made Tifa smile. He was blushing and avoiding her eyes; his greeting was mumbled. He wasn't really tall and overweight, with a bulky build.

"What's your name?"

He started to say something, cleared his throat, and finally answered, "Wedge."

Tifa nodded, smiling. "I'm Tifa. Nice to meet you."

"Yeah. You too."

She chuckled at his flustered state, and he only blushed more.

"So," she drawled, "what do we have to do?"

Wedge turned to the car, noticeably happy to be back to a subject that didn't make him nervous. He produced a sheet where Highwind had printed the instructions for the project, and Tifa realized it would extend to a period of several weeks. It wasn't enough to make her work after school, she would now have to work even more hours for this assignment.

"This is absolutely awesome."

"Yeah."

"Really, he's such a dick, thinking we only have this to do."

"Yeah."

"It'll take us hours."

"Then I suggest you get to work immediately, Lockheart," Highwind yelled.

Tifa gave a start, whirling around to face the laughing students. She hadn't known she had been talking so loudly; enough so that Cid would hear her across the room. She just glowered at him, which made him snicker.

"I don't know if I hate him or like him," she mused aloud.

Wedge gave a nervous laugh, holding out his hand. Tifa glanced at it, confused.

"What?"

"The sheet, please?"

"Oh! Oh, yeah, just take it. Here."

He murmured a thank you, to which Tifa only nodded. She had skimmed the instructions and had barely understood a word.

"Do you get what we have to do?"

Her partner was squinting at the paper, but shook his head no.

"Peachy."

"But I think we can ask his assistant to help us," added Wedge.

Tifa hopped on the car's hood, watching out for said assistant. "Who is he? Or her?"

"Um, I think it's Cloud Strife."

The name made Tifa freeze.

"Then we'll get by without help," she stated firmly.

I can't see him. She still continued to search for him, not spotting his traditional blonde spikes.

"Why is he Cid's assistant?" She asked, finally moving her gaze to Wedge. He was looking at her with something akin to amusement in his brown eyes.

"I think it's because he took the course too many times. Why don't you want his help?"

Tifa looked down at her sneaker-clad feet, swinging her legs, then stopping, then swinging them again. Why, indeed.

"Let's say it'd be awkward," she replied vaguely, waving her hand as if to dismiss the conversation.

"Sure." Wedge eyed her warily for a second, then moved to stand besides her. He coughed one, two, three times. Nervous guy, Tifa thought. "I think we need to check something under the hood first."

Tifa jumped down her spot, rubbing her hands together. It didn't matter if she couldn't figure out what to do; as long as she got the work done it'd be fine.

—

When the bell rang Tifa hurried out of the door so Reno wouldn't think about approaching her. She went straight to her locker and got an apple out of a bag, as well as a water bottle, put the books she would need for the afternoon into her backpack, and headed for the library. She strangely felt like reading today, but hadn't brought a book with her. She pursed her lips in thought as she entered the school library. She wondered what they would have, and what she should read. Mystery novels were her favourites, but she had read so much recently and she wanted some change.

It wasn't long before Tifa discovered the poor book selection they had. She went over to an unoccupied table and took out her Science homework. She didn't really appreciate any kind of Science and usually didn't bother with the homework, but she was bored and had nothing better to do at the moment. She enjoyed the quietness of the library and didn't feel like suffering through the elite's endless questions. Oh, she could tell Zack would probably leave her alone and take her side; she knew him enough to say that. Tifa knew Aerith was only worried; it didn't mean, however, that she needed to be her babysitter.

About twenty minutes before the lunch period ended, Tifa heard the door of the room open for the first time since she had come in. Thinking it wouldn't be someone she knew, Tifa barely glanced at the entrance, only to do a double take.

"No way," she groaned.

Yuffie just smiled and waved her hand, as if she had heard Tifa. The young sophomore sauntered to her table, taking the seat across Tifa.

"Hi!"

"This is a library, you know," Tifa said dully, her eyes not darting from her homework.

"So?"

"Never mind."

If Tifa had been expecting quietness, she quickly realized that silence didn't fit in Yuffie's vocabulary. The girl wasn't overly loud, but Tifa hadn't come to the library to find noise.

"So I decided to come looking for you."

"Uh."

"Aerith had a meeting and I was completely bored with the guys."

"Meeting for what?"

"Cheerleading."

"No kidding."

"She wants to quit, though. She should. I hate most of these girls."

With a sigh, Tifa put down her pencil and raised her eyes. Yuffie was staring at her cell phone with an absent grin lighting her features. When she saw she finally had Tifa's attention, the girl closed her phone and twisted around in her seat to fully face her.

"Why? They're bitches?"

Yuffie shrugged. "Not really. Some are. They're fun to annoy." She grinned. "A few count calories."

They both let out a hushed chuckle, not wanting to bring the librarian's fury on themselves.

"It was better when Ms. Crescent had library duty."

Tifa's eyebrow rose. "I thought she was a teacher."

"She is. But she didn't take the teacher's job when they gave it to her. She took the library instead."

"Weird."

"I know! I never really asked Zack about it. If anybody knows anything, it's him."

Tifa let her eyes drift past her friend's shoulder. But she only nodded, trying to look casual.

When the quiet stretched for over five minutes, Yuffie asked her to come to the cafeteria to eat, and Tifa almost said yes. It truly was lonely in the library, especially after having talked with someone as energetic as Yuffie. Tifa was left with her homework after a short, almost awkward chat with her friend. The moment Yuffie was out of sight Tifa sighed and cursed her stubbornness.

The remaining time until the next period went by quickly. Tifa was more than dreading her Science class. His reaction would probably be positive, but she was conscious that it could as well be dismissive. She didn't know what she'd do if he gave her the cold shoulder. Deciding that the best way to get the confrontation over with was an early start, Tifa exited the library before the first bell rang. The more she stayed hidden, the more she would find excuses to avoid him.

The door was locked when she arrived, but the teacher was inside, lecturing a student. She could see what was written on the board, and it was stuff her class had already gone through, at least two weeks ago. Either the guy had difficulties or he had missed at lot of school. A glance at her cell phone let Tifa know that the course would start in five minutes. She dumped her bag at her feet and leaned back against the wall, right beside the door. Now she just had more time to think about excuses.

She was mostly amused and somewhat disconcerted to notice that she was fidgeting. It seemed impossible not to move; she flipped her cell phone open fourteen times in a row before realizing what she what doing, then drummed her fingers on her thigh. She, a girl who was rarely nervous in these type of situation -mainly because she tended to steer clear from them-, found the concept slightly exasperating.

Tuning out unwanted thoughts proved more difficult than she had expected, but by the time Hojo opened the door to his classroom and the students shuffled to their assigned seats, Tifa had managed to push aside all undesired feelings and regain a relaxed appearance. Maybe she did look slightly stiff. Perhaps the fact that her eyes constantly wandered to the door gave her feelings away. It definitely wasn't so easy to tell herself that nobody in the room cared -because, really, nobody actually did give a damn. It was tough convincing herself that it was perfectly normal to be edgy when you believe you're about to perhaps lose your friends.

There I go again. Who ever said that Vincent would hate her? No one; no one but herself. I'm just freaking myself out. That's all I've been doing.

When the class started and he still hadn't shown up, Tifa groaned and hid her face in her arms. It was the first time since the beginning of the year that she openly ignored Hojo and didn't bother to take notes. She could tell, when she glanced up, that it didn't please the teacher. It wouldn't have been such a great deal if Hojo didn't give her the creeps. Without energy, Tifa took out notebook and pen from her bag, made an effort to look concentrated, and returned to her worrying.

There was another door in the room that Tifa hadn't thought of. Since it was rarely used and hidden behind a shelf in the back, most students didn't think about entering through it. Vincent obviously did, because when she glanced at the clock on her right, he was sitting on the stool next to her. Looking perfectly bored. And staring at her.

Like she always did when she was taken off guard, Tifa sucked in a breath and clenched her fists. He didn't seem any different than his normal self. Not angry, amused, sad, disgusted, or whatever else she had imagined. She let her eyes roam over his face another time, as if to reassure herself.

"Oh, my God."

She raised her hand, as if to reach for him, but let it fall on the desk before touching him.

"Your hair."

Vincent sighed, fingering the short strands that barely brushed the collar of his button-up shirt.

"My mom made me do it. Actually, she just did it," he answered. He frowned in obvious distaste. "She just-" He stopped, chuckled throatily and made a snapping gesture in front of his face. "I went to the hairdresser yesterday."

Tifa was left momentarily speechless. It was true that Vincent hair had been long, past his shoulders, but she hadn't seen a reason to cut since he clearly wanted it so long.

"Wow. It changes you, I guess." She had already taken notice of Vincent's good looks, but the short hair framed his face and highlighted his sharp features. If Vincent had been more like Jessie, Tifa would have believed that he'd be displeased by the haircut because he'd be more exposed to the world -she had seen Jessie hide behind her thick curtain of waves several times. But he just appeared... resigned.

"It's not the first time, is it?"

"Third."

Tifa nearly flinched. And he let her do this to him? It was apparent that he hated his new cut. "You let her?"

"She's my mom," came the monotonous answer accompanied by a shrug.

At the front of the class, Hojo coughed loudly several times and stared at them. Tifa noticed some students were looking over their shoulders to see what's going on, and the sight of Vincent and her talking didn't even get a reaction out of them; they turned back in their seats to watch the teacher, who had given up making everybody listen. It wasn't the first time that Hojo told them to learn the subject by themselves because he was "tired of talking to thin air and had much better things to do."

Her previous conversation with Vincent having evacuated some of the stress out of her body, she felt ready to present her apologies. But before she could make a sound Vincent stopped her.

"You're forgiven. No problem."

This made Tifa smile hesitantly. Was it so easy? She didn't have any difficulties granting forgiveness to someone, but she knew that it wasn't the case for everybody. And she hadn't known Vincent for long. Once again, he beat her to the punch.

"You freaked out," he said simply.

She couldn't believe it was enough, but she had gotten what she wanted and there was no need to jeopardize her friendship with him.

"That was easy," Tifa stated. She crossed her arms over her chest and whirled around in her chair to face him.

"I wish it could be like that with everybody, Tifa."

The moment he said this she knew he hadn't really meant to. He didn't add anything and his eyes shifted to his shoes. His torn-up, without-laces shoes. Maybe she could buy him nice sneakers for his birthday.

Around Cloud she experienced a need to ask questions but kept her mouth shut since she knew she wouldn't get a word out of him. But with Vincent... She doubted he wouldn't answer her. Or at least he would give her some hint.

"What happened between you and Cloud?"

She did her best to make her tone sound gentle, soft; it was a whisper at most. It wasn't so hard to hide the curiosity and excitement, she realized. So she had come to care what had occurred. It was weird; before Nibelheim other people's business had never really mattered to her.

Strangely, his response disappointed her. Even if it would probably facilitate things for her.

"I knew you would ask me that." And she could tell he wasn't talking about a gut feeling. She had but one guess as to who it was. Did Cloud and Vincent actually talked more than they let on?

"The question has been written all over your face for a while now." He sniggered. "And perhaps Jordan told me."

Cloud warned Jordan who warned you; that's what you mean.

Tifa stayed silent. It was almost stupid how she was afraid that if she said a single word he wouldn't give her the answers she wanted.

"And I'll tell you." She could feel her eyes glowing, and he allowed himself a small smile that looked more like a grimace. "But not today. And certainly not here."

She moaned in her palms, glaring at him through her fingers. "That's torture." It came out as mumble because of her hands, but Vincent clearly understood her.

"You can wait a few more days at least. You've waited more than a month. And by the way, how are things between you and Cloud?" Her glare intensified and she removed her hands from her face.

"Peachy," she hissed.

"Trouble in paradise?"

"There is no paradise, but there is always trouble."

He raked his left through his hair, toying with the short strands again, as if he was getting used to them. He cocked his head to the side, and his puzzled eyes drifted over her shoulders.

"I don't get it." He other hand came to rest on the surface of his desk. After a silence, his gazes met hers and she could discern his seriousness. "You want to be his friend, right?"

Tifa knew there was no need to deny something with Vincent. He would find out. So she nodded.

"Then why not make peace with him?"

She sighed. One glance at the clock told her there were hardly five minutes left. Thank God.

"He kinda scares me." Without looking at him she started to gather her things, putting them neatly in her bag, if only to win some time. "I mean, not him, just..." she trailed off, not finding words.

"Everything else?" He finished tentatively.

"Yeah." She passed a hand over face. "If you had come to French I would have told you," she drawled.

Her attempt at changing the topic failed miserably when he rolled his eyes and continued. "Don't be. Afraid. That's useless. He's not the one who'll hurt you."

His last comment picked her interest.

"What do you mean?"

Vincent shrugged at the same the bell rang. What timing.

"He's not a bad guy." He got up on his feet, but Tifa gripped his arm before he could walk away.

"He's too secretive."

"That makes him a bad person? And believe me, Tifa, he's got his reasons. And they're good. Damn good. Did you think about that?" She wondered if it was supposed to be accusatory.

"Yeah, I did. But nobody will tell me anything and it's annoying, Vince. Extremely. Everybody has these goddamn secrets and talking with these mysterious tones around me. It's just making me hate everyone." She squeezed his arm. "I want to be his friend. Even if I was a bitch he did some good things for me and I know he's not a bad guy. But if he won't tell me anything I'll go crazy."

She had been about to add something, but Vincent yanked her out of her seat. Her grip on him didn't loosen as she landed on her feet, stumbling a little. "What the-"

"We'll be late," he murmured, dragging her out of the classroom. She finally let go of him to glance behind her, and to her horror she caught a flash of spiky blond hair.

"He has science after us?" She faltered. "I didn't want him to hear that!"

They stopped walking near the girl's locker room, and Tifa leaned against the wall.

"I swear I didn't see him."

"I know."

"Rejoice; we didn't mention his name."

"It doesn't take a fucking genius to figure it out."

"Unfortunately."

"Perhaps he didn't hear a thing."

"He was staring at us."

"Damn."

"Sorry."

She waved as if to dismiss the apology. "It's okay."

"You sure?"

"No."

"That's what I thought. But I gotta go."

"Oh, shit. I have gym."

"Later, then."

Tifa grunted a goodbye. As soon as Vincent disappeared around the corner, she entered the locker room. It was just about empty. Two girls were changing in a corner, whispering and giggling. Tifa ignored them, and they didn't spot her. She dropped her bag in front of the mirror and opened the faucet, letting cold water stream over her hands.

"I heard he had a heart attack."

"I don't believe that. He was eighteen, honey. You just don't die from a heart attack at eighteen."

She watched as the girls chatted and changed, then went to stare at her own reflection. She looked dull, weary, irritated even. Her hair framed her face in a way that annoyed her-she definitely needed a haircut, she thought- but she didn't want to brush away the dark locks. She had been washing her hands and looking at the mirror for over two minutes, a fact she wasn't certain the other girls had noticed. No spotlight for her.

"I think I have a shot with him this year."

"Be serious, Alisha. The guy's more frigid than a virgin."

She finally removed her hands from under the water. She swept her wet fingers in her hair, not caring about the moistness. The damp locks clung to the side of her face and dripped on the counter. Her hair was naturally straight so she didn't have to worry about it curling during the day.

"He's elite, Ali."

"Who cares? Ravens tend to date wolves."

She stopped all movements at those words. Elite, ravens, wolves…

What the hell was she doing here anyway? The second bell had sounded a while ago, maybe while she was still in the hallway with Vincent.

She abruptly turned around, aiming to change into her gym clothes, but the surprised girls recognized her. One smiled -she couldn't remember her name- while the other -Alisha- stared at her with wide eyes.

"Tifa, I didn't see you there."

Tifa nodded, not having the energy to give them a false smile. She put on her shirt and shorts with the Nibelheim High insignia -gym clothes were furnished by the school, much to Tifa's displeasure. As she tied her hair in a high ponytail, she tried to remember where she had heard the name Alisha. She knew the girl because Aerith (or maybe Yuffie) had pointed her for apparently being very unreliable. Otherwise, who else had told her about this Alisha girl...

"He's elite, Ali."

It took a good deal of restraint to contain the hysterical laughter that threatened to explode from her. She was the girl who had been too shy to ask Tifa if she and Cloud were dating. Today really was a horrible day.

"Hey, Alisha?" Tifa called out as she stood next to the gym's doors.

The girl -she couldn't be older than 16- raised her wide eyes to Tifa, startled. "Yes?"

"He's not that frigid." Then she winked and strolled out. A surprised gasp and an outrageous remark followed her as Tifa entered the gymnasium ten minutes after the bell. The students were running laps around the room and the teacher -a three months pregnant woman named Mrs. Fern who was about the leave the school in two weeks- was yelling at them to go faster. Wordlessly, Tifa joined the throng of runners

—

A/N : so yeah. It's been a while. I don't really have an excuse, except for school, life, school, life, yadda-yadda. Usual one.

From now on the story will be more action-oriented, at least for a while. So Tifa's endless reflections are taking a break.

lovelies :

Sheiky, cloudlover2989, SugarHoney91, , demonegg, BlueWings92, BananaPeaceMonkeyKarmi, elebelly, , vx-Luna-xv, MsRainey, Marisa, pangpond, JulietaSurvived, magiccupcakes21, .slideshow., starySymphony, Cammy, Heloeyes, ClotiNotCleris, Cobaltcyrus, darkangel8694, & nandy48.

FAQ!

Too tired. I'll answer questions next chapter.