CHAPTER 36: HAND IN HAND
Papa wasn't home on the morning of Tifa's wedding day. She wanted to pretend that it didn't bother her as she ate breakfast alone and found herself fighting to keep her thoughts positive. This was the happiest day of her life, right? Cloud was going to marry her and take her far away from all of this hopelessness, disappointment and suffocation. By this time tomorrow, she'd be on a train heading far away from the only life she'd ever known. Tifa sipped from her juice glass as she slowly looked around the spacious kitchen, studying everything from the flowered embroidery on the curtains to the cheerful patterns on the colorful dishware. The chip in the wood at the corner of the table, the crack in the tile in front of the stove and the broad hands of the wall clock all called out to her. She could no longer stand the sight of this familiar place: every square inch held one memory or another, both joyful and melancholy.
A lifetime ago, Tifa supposed she would've felt anxious or even panicked at the thought of leaving her home for the uncertainty and unfamiliarity of the unknown, but too much had happened since then. She wasn't a little girl anymore. The veil of youthful ignorance had been taken off and the young woman was finally able to see her world in Nibelheim for what it really was: a twisted and dangerous dead end. She smiled as she set the glass down gently. It was alright; everything was about to change. She didn't face an empty future, but the days ahead promised adventure and acceptance. The young man whom she loved fiercely was about to rescue her from this place where neither of them belonged. They'd finally be together without any barriers and the thought filled her with relief and thrill.
Tifa bathed and packed the last of her things into her suitcase as she waited for Claudia to arrive. She came knocking at half past ten just as the bride-to-be zipped her bag shut. Her heart jumped with excitement when she knew her neighbor was at the door. Ms. Strife had been the biggest comfort in the world after her mother's death and the woman had been nothing but helpful and encouraging. The bond she had forged with her was a precious one indeed.
"Happy wedding day!" Claudia sing-songed as Tifa let her in the door. In her hands was a small make up bag and a small bundle of vibrant wildflowers held together with a purple ribbon. "Come on, let's get you into that dress! We've only got an hour to primp and pamper you."
Tifa grinned and greeted her before leading the seamstress up to her room. Two days ago, she had tried on Mama's dress with Claudia's help. It fit like a glove except for the bust. Ms. Strife had been kind enough to let out the seam of the bodice a bit so that the girl could breathe.
"You think it'll fit, don't you?"
"Of course it will! Don't worry, I brought along a seam cutter and some thread just in case." The woman motioned for Tifa to take a seat in the chair at the desk in her bedroom. She opened the little bag, producing a bottle of foundation, a case of powder, two brushes and a tiny container of pink blush. A small vial of perfume, a tube of mascara and a cylinder of lipstick were the last things Claudia settled onto the desktop before looking Tifa over with a chuckle.
"I didn't have much, but it doesn't matter. You don't need any make up in the first place." She grinned as she tapped the girl on the nose. "But that doesn't mean we can't experiment a little bit. You are an adult now, after all."
Tifa smiled, eyeing the assortment of cosmetics. "I've never worn make up before."
"Well, it certainly is a good occasion to start!"
It felt strange to let someone pamper her. Tifa had been independent for as long as she could remember and the feeling of having another person brush out her hair or rub moisturizer into her skin was foreign. Hazy memories of Mama braiding her hair floated to the surface of her mind as Claudia gently combed her black tresses. One snowy evening when they were young, Cloud told her that Mama's death wasn't her fault. Up until now, she hadn't truly believed him. She wanted so badly for this day to be the start of a new, bright existence: one free of guilt and sadness and sorrow. In order for that to be possible, she needed to let go. Papa let the anguish eat away at his soul. Tifa needed to make a choice: would she follow that path or strive to break free from her guilt?
"Ms. Strife?"
"Hm?"
It surprised Tifa how much courage she had to summon to ask a simple question. "Now that I'm marrying into your family, may I…call you Mom?"
Claudia paused before giving her shoulders a loving squeeze. "You could've always called me that." Tifa let out a quiet breath as the woman began to pat liquid foundation onto her cheek with a tiny sponge.
"No, I mean…is it really alright to call you 'mother'? Would my mom be sad if she knew I called someone else that?" She fidgeted her hands uncomfortably in her lap and tried to still the shaking of her voice. "My heart has called you mom for a long time, but when I hear it come out of my mouth I can't help but feel guilty."
Ms. Strife let out a soft hum of understanding as she smoothed powder over Tifa's face, tickling her with the soft brush. "Lia will always be your mother, no matter what you call me."
The girl looked up at Claudia, who frowned in concentration as she gently applied blush to her cheeks. It sounded so simple when she said it like that.
"Tifa, your mother loved you with all her heart and knew how much you loved her. You are precious to me as well, but you don't have to feel pressured to address me with any specific title. Do what feels right, okay?"
What was it that felt right? Papa was always frozen in the past, refusing to move forward, and Tifa saw just how that led to a life of emptiness and isolation. But it felt so strange to think about just letting go of the guilt that had weighed her down for so long. Cloud told her that Mama's death wasn't her fault. Could she trust that he had been telling the truth? She had to trust him. Her marriage would be a fresh beginning: a chance for renewal and hope. She was going to be a spouse—a partner. If Tifa was going to be able to live her life to the fullest and give Cloud her best self, this burden had to be laid to rest. Otherwise, she'd end up like her father.
When Claudia finished with her make-up, she helped the young bride slide into the beautiful gown. She closed her eyes the corset was pulled and laced tightly across her back, heart thrumming with excitement. This was really happening! In less than two hours, she would be a wife. Bodice secure, Ms. Strife circled around to paint on some rose colored lipstick. Once her masterpiece was complete, she stepped back to admire her work.
"Oh, Tifa…" Claudia breathed, moving in a slow circle around her. "You are simply stunning!"
"You really think so?"
Her feet carried her to the full length mirror in her father's room and she studied her reflection, jaw slackening and chest tightening. Tifa knew that she was looking at herself, but the girl gazing back seemed so unfamiliar. She had never worn make-up or worn such a magnificent garment in all her life. A modest veil was fastened behind her head and her long, black hair spilled over the lace on her chest. Without blinking, she reached out to touch the stranger with pink cheeks and red lips. Fingertips rested on the flat pane of the mirror.
"You look just like a doll." Claudia smiled as she brought over the little vial of perfume. "How does it feel?"
"Incredible. I feel beautiful."
The dress was one garment that she felt no fault in taking, for Mama had told her that it would be hers to wear on her wedding day. Maybe now, she could help Cloud earn some money in the city and buy clothes of her own instead of wearing the altered fabric of a ghost. The more she tried to let go of her grief and try to make peace of it all, the better she felt. It was easier than she thought to trade shame for pride when she donned her mother's bridal gown.
"You're the most beautiful bride I have ever seen!" the blonde chirped, hastily spritzing Tifa's neck and wrists with perfume. "Be careful not to smudge your make-up. I've got to run and make sure my son is presentable. I'll see you at the ceremony in half an hour!"
Tifa followed as Claudia packed up her small assortment of belongings. When the woman moved toward the staircase, the bride gently grabbed her wrist. Blue eyes met carmine ones and they mirrored each other's smiles.
"Thank you, Mom... for everything."
Claudia placed a kiss on the crown of her head before winking at her daughter-in-law. "You are worth every moment, Tifa."
A feeling of peace rushed into her bones as she watched the seamstress bounce out the door. Maybe everything really would be alright. She had made so many mistakes in her life, but it was becoming more and more clear that her faults didn't stop good people from loving her.
When the time came, Tifa picked up her wildflower bouquet and let the merry assortment of purple, yellow, white and orange chase any lingering shadows of gloom from her heart. She wouldn't have asked Papa if he was coming, even if he was home. He was aware when the ceremony was taking place; there was no point in trying to persuade him to attend. Fighting Papa's temper and pride was as tiresome and fruitless as trying to row upstream in a raging river's rapids, and Tifa certainly didn't have the energy to waste on that now. Slipping on Mama's white sandals, she gathered the train of the dress under her arm and walked out the back door, letting it slam shut with a BANG.
… … …
It was a windy spring day; the sun was bright in the blue sky and large, puffy clouds lazily rolled past. The shade of the pine trees did little to stop beads of sweat from forming on Cloud's forehead as he waited for his bride. The familiarity and tranquility of the atmosphere did little to calm his fraying nerves. Mom spoke with Mr. Taylor and Master Zangan, thanking them for coming and exchanging other pleasantries. It wasn't the long sleeves of his military formals or the warmth of the spring air that made his face flush; the importance of this ceremony was what made his heart hammer in his chest and his breath uneven. How could he be sure that he could take care of Tifa? A city like Midgar was no place for a girl who grew up where there were no locks on the doors and one could walk through the streets at midnight without fear. He was certain she'd adjust, but it would be his job to keep her safe and warm and fed. Could he do it? They didn't even have a place to live yet.
Together, they would step out into the unknown: taking aim and shooting toward their goal of happiness and a quiet life together. But what if they missed? They'd always been friends, but how much would marriage change things between them? For years, all he could think about was how much he waited for this very moment. But now that he'd gotten what he wanted, he was afraid. What if he failed her and ruined it all? What if his fumbling steps into adulthood weren't enough and they'd lose the lifelong bond they had built over all these years?
One frightened tumbled out after another, until an avalanche of fear threatened to crush him. But it was all swept away in an instant when his watchful eyes caught a glimpse of white gliding over the pine needles on the forest path. He sucked in a breath and tried not to tremble as Tifa moved closer. The chatter of the adults behind him died down as the bride approached, characteristic shy smile upon her face. Cloud's clammy hands told him how lucky of a man he was. Not only was his bride so wonderful and sweet, but flawlessly gorgeous as well. He forced himself to swallow as he watched her black hair sway in the breeze. Zangan and Claudia were the only witnesses, but that was all they needed: the two pillars of support in their lives.
Cloud held Tifa's hands as the officiant read the ceremony repertoire from a small book, trying and failing to focus on the words. The fullness of Tifa's eye lashes and the smoothness of her skin awakened a longing inside of him, and he struggled to focus on the task at hand. Once in a while, his bride would catch him staring at her and smile shyly. Occasionally, she'd bounce on her heels, impatient with giddiness and excitement. Tifa grinned at Zangan, who nodded at her with a proud smirk. The bride slowly glanced around the peaceful atmosphere, the brook whispering past as Mr. Taylor spoke. Somewhere deep inside, a tiny part of her hoped that Papa would've overcome his pride and came to his senses. It was obvious that he wasn't there, but she had to be certain. Cloud watched her eyes wander and squeezed her hands for reassurance.
"Cloud, do you take Tifa to be your wife? Do you commit yourself to her happiness? Do you promise to love, honor, and trust her in sickness and in health, in adversity and prosperity, and to be true and loyal to her so long as you both shall live?"
"I do." The blonde smiled brightly at his bride as his shaking fingers slipped a pale wedding band next to her engagement ring. Tifa continued to bounce and bob, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as the officiant repeated the vows, addressing her this time. He had barely finished before she gently adorned Cloud's hand with a ring of his own.
"I do!"
"Well there you have it, folks." Mr. Taylor said, closing his book. "I now pronounce you: husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, Mr. Strife."
Their lips met: his tentative and gentle, hers impatient and excited. A barrier had broken. Never again would they have to worry about being seen holding hands or spending unsupervised time together. She was his, he was hers, and it felt just as strange as it did wonderful. The giddy couple stood for a moment, hand in hand, unsure of what to do next. Zangan shook Cloud's free hand and Tifa was instantly enveloped in a hug from her new mother-in-law. There was plenty of laughter and happy chatter, which was both soothing and invigorating to the attention starved couple. The officiant had the bride, groom and two witnesses sign the marriage license, binding them together under the law. Cloud watched the ink flow out of the pen as he signed the paper. He had done it. Against all odds, he married the love of his life and would sweep her away to a new place. While Midgar may not be the most romantic of locations for a new life together, at least he could be sure that Tifa would be loved.
"Who's hungry?" Claudia asked with a radiant smile. "I've got to put the finishing touches on your wedding supper! Well, wedding lunch, I suppose. It should be ready in half an hour or so."
"Perfect!" Tifa chirped. "There's something I need to do first. Would you come with me, Cloud?"
The young groom nodded without hesitation.
… … …
The feeling of two rings on her finger felt strange and wonderful as Tifa led Cloud down the dirt path. She'd sweat and her make up would be ruined, but she didn't care. Her body hadn't felt so light in many, many years, and she couldn't resist the thrill and feeling of freedom that running brings. Her husband let out a small chuckle as he gripped her hand, his legs doing their best to keep up.
"Tifa!" he panted. "Slow down!"
In her haste, Tifa hadn't thought to bustle the train of her gown or draw it up under her arm as she ran. Flowing white lace billowed out behind her like foam on an ocean's wave, rising and falling with gusts of wind and fluttering of her feet. In their haste, neither stopped to take in the beauty of the rolling green meadows on either side of the path. Hands clasped and mouths panting, they came to a halt at the open graveyard gate.
"I'll be right back! I just want to give my mother one last visit."
She smiled as Cloud nodded. "I'll wait here."
It wasn't until Tifa stopped in front of the marble tombstone that it occurred to her that she had rarely visited this grave over the years. She loved her mother and always missed her terribly, but stopping at the graveyard always seemed more like a formality than something felt from the heart. Tifa constantly visited Mama in her thoughts and fond memories and it had always been enough. But now that she was unsure of when she'd be able to visit again, stopping by to say farewell a necessity. Gracefully, she sat in the grass before the tombstone, arranging her dress so that it wouldn't be soiled.
"I'm going now, Mama." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she spoke to the stone stab. "Now I'm a wife like you were, leaving my home like you did."
The wind rustled through the trees and bent the grass in the meadow. Tifa watched as weeds and wildflowers bent forth like ripples on a pond as billowing clouds blotted out the vibrant blue of the sky. She closed her eyes as peace rushed in on the breeze.
"Papa didn't come and watch, but that's alright because I know you were there with me. I know better now—I can still be happy, even if he isn't. You'd want that, wouldn't you?"
Tifa opened her eyes and gently placed her bridal bouquet before the grave. "I want to make you proud. I promise to be a good wife; I'll take care of Cloud like you took care of Papa."
Long minutes of silence passed as she reflected on her decision to marry Cloud, to move on from this dead end life, to put her guilt and sorrow behind her while never forgetting the ones she loved. It would be alright now, she was sure. Life had taught her that one was never truly in control of their circumstances. Bad things happened to good people, and good people could change to bad people if pushed far enough. But Zangan had told her that when faced with adversity, you had to decide: you could drown yourself in your anger and sadness, or you could learn from it and choose to make the best of it. Happiness was attainable, even when everything seemed dark and hopeless.
"I'll be back to visit, I promise. I love you, Mama."
Cloud leaned on the picket fence, watching his wife say goodbye. It was surreal to see her there: the white wedding dress a cheerful contrast to the drab, lonely grave stones. She looked like a symbol of hope and happiness amongst the remnants of death and the sight left an eerie feeling in his chest. It would be good for her to get out of here and be her own person instead of her father's captive. Cloud hoped that he could make her comfortable and happy in Midgar, but he could only do his best with what he had. His salary and housing situation would leave much to be desired, but he'd get another job if he had to. It was a relief to think that he wouldn't be facing life in Midgar alone anymore. Sure he had Zack, but there was a certain comfort in having your best friend since childhood with you in a foreign place. He hadn't many friends, but he would never feel lonesome with Tifa by his side.
The bride stood, smoothing the fabric of her gown, and the groom watched her run her hand over the top of the marble stone. She turned to look at him and smiled that smile that always made warmth spread in his chest. She bounced over to him, and for a moment his mind flashed a memory of a little dark haired girl running to take his hand as they walked to school. They'd come so far. Despite all the hardships, they had made it. He reached a hand out to her as she approached and she took it, rubbing her thumb over his wedding band.
"Are you ready for supper?"
"Yeah, I'm starving!" She squeezed his hand as he began to lead her home. They walked in comfortable silence until Tifa spoke, eyes on the sky. "Thank you, Cloud, for marrying me so quickly."
"I would've done it earlier if you didn't take so long to turn fifteen!"
The bride laughed. "What I mean is—I know that you expected to go back to Midgar without me for now. I don't think I could stand being here without you for even one more day. Thank you for changing your plans to take me with you."
He stopped walking for a moment and waited until her curious gaze met his. Slowly, he leaned in to press a shy kiss to her cheek.
"You won't have to be without me ever again."
… … …
Tifa stood on her front step, inhaling deeply through her nostrils as dread spread through her bones. Though Cloud was right there beside her, she was not prepared to say goodbye to her father.
The small wedding supper had been pleasant and relaxed; there was ample food and ample laughter as the four of them shared merry conversation. It was hard for Tifa to bid farewell to Zangan. She promised to write to him, continue to practice her skills, and visit when she could, but her teacher was so dear to her that her chest had constricted until tears threatened to fall. It was equally as hard to leave Claudia's embrace. As excited as Tifa was to begin her new life with Cloud, it was so hard to face the reality that visits with her dear friend would be few and far between. How had Mama found the courage to leave her parents behind on her wedding day?
Living away from her father, on the other hand, would be a welcome relief. However, saying goodbye to him would be the most difficult task of the day. It was a necessary evil. No matter how much she'd rather flee, talking to Papa was the right thing to do. Besides, her husband was with her; he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her. Scraping up ashes of her withered courage, she turned the handle and stepped inside. Her suitcase was just inside the door, where she had left it.
"Papa?"
The sun was starting to set, but she could see him clearly across the parlor in the soft glow of the electric lamp. Brian was slumped in the seat of his desk, bent over what seemed to be maps and order slips.
"What do you want? Aren't you leaving?" He didn't turn to face her. He didn't move at all, except for the finger that traced lines of mountain paths on the map. "Don't tell me you haven't any money for the train fare, because I haven't got any to give you."
"Cloud and I just wanted to say goodbye before we leave for Midgar."
Brian grunted, scribbling his notes on a small pad. The blonde watched anxiously as Tifa struggled with the silence that followed and a protective anger churned in his chest. The stubborn man had been a source of much childhood terror, but now that Cloud was grown he could see the situation with clarity that only age and experience could provide. Nothing that could've gone on between the father and daughter should have resulted in such treatment. The man was acting like an obstinate child, allowing his bitterness to consume him and lash out at his only daughter.
Tifa swallowed her distress and pressed on. "I know you don't want to talk with me. But before I go, I just wanted you to know that I've always tried hard to please you, Papa."
He finally turned his head in her direction, his face devoid of all affect. It was impossible to gauge what emotion—if any—lay behind his mask of apathy. Brian's voice was flat and toneless as he spoke.
"You'll never be able to do that. Why are you still trying? Is that the reason why you're here?" The words ripped through Tifa's charade of confidence.
"That's not fair!" Cloud interjected, sensing his wife's recoiling bravado. Brian finally turned to his attention to his son-in-law, a spark of anger flashing in his brown eyes as he stood. "Tifa's been good to you and you never bother to see it!"
"What did you say?" Papa growled, facing Cloud. "How dare you come in here after taking my daughter away and insult me?" Tifa moved closer to draw her father's attention away from her husband.
"You're hurting!" Unbridled truth flowed from her chest. "That's why you say these things. You're grieving and in pain. You need help, even if you won't admit it."
"I can speak for myself!"
The volume of his voice no longer made her flinch. Tifa tried to understand the reason why he couldn't just let go. Why he couldn't see that he was being selfish and that she and cloud meant no harm. He had sacrificed any future happiness by chaining himself to ghosts and memories, choosing to wallow in his past instead of stepping forward and coping with the direction life had taken. Papa was very much like the trees he cut down, unmovable and rooted to the earth. Things changed around him, but he remained the same, year after year. Instead of resentment, she felt only sadness, and tried one last time to reach out to him. She was moving on and inviting her father to come with her into peace.
"I'm here for you, Papa. I love you."
"You're a fool, Tifa! Go on—run off to Midgar! You'll regret it; I know you will! But it would take you getting mugged, kidnapped or killed before you pay your father any heed, won't it?"
Cloud bristled. "She'll be with me. I'm going to take care of her; everything will be fine. She's done nothing to deserve harsh words from you, sir."
"You should keep your mouth shut, if you know what's good for you!" Brian pressed his pointer finger into Cloud's chest. "You've been nothing but trouble for me since you and your whore mother came to this place! No one wants you here! I thought you had the good sense to leave, but you came back! You came back to take my only child away from me."
Cloud stood straight, taut as a bowstring. His military training was evident in his rigid posture and the discipline to fall silent.
"You know that isn't true," Tifa said softly, just above a whisper. "I love him. None of this was meant to bring you any harm."
She was so confused. Did Papa really care for her wellbeing or was he trying to manipulate her? Brian's pain was evident in the alertness of his eyes and the threatened posture of his body. After years of neglect and abuse, Tifa found herself wondering if it was still possible that he loved her. Would he feel so alone when she left that he'd miss her? Was that why he was so angry with Cloud? All this time, her father had all but ignored her when she lived in his home, but now that she was leaving, he couldn't handle the thought. In her heart, she longed to believe that he wanted to protect her and have her near him, like a father should. But experience had taught her that since Mama died, her father had scarcely looked out for anyone but himself.
"This is your revenge, isn't it?" Brian seethed, fixing his eyes on her once again.
"Revenge? N-no, I—"
"This is your pay back because I haven't been indulging you and spoiling you all these years! Just wait 'til you get to Midgar! If you think life here is tough, you'll be in for a shock when you get to that hell hole. You'll end up hating him more than me."
"Papa…" Tifa shrunk in on herself, her face finally crumpling into misery.
Cloud held his ground, bright blue eyes boring into his father-in-law. He wasn't raised to be disrespectful or rebellious, but seeing Tifa falter gave him the courage to speak. "Why do you turn her away every time she attempts to reconcile? You're hurting her. Don't you see what you're doing to your daughter—to Lia's daughter?"
Immediately after the words left his mouth, Cloud knew that was the wrong thing to say.
"Get out of my house!" Papa roared, wounded pride and resurfacing pain making him lash out. He stepped forward and placed a hand on both of their shoulders, giving them a hefty shove towards the front door. "You're both fools!"
Tifa let the momentum take her, carmine eyes wide. She looked as if she might try to speak, but Cloud took her hand before she could summon her voice. It was then that she knew that she'd never have him back. Papa would never again hold her close or call her his sweet pea. The memory of holding his hand or bouncing upon his knee would remain just that: a fond recollection that seemed more like a dream, dulled by coatings of time and dust. The man she had known with the soft brown eyes and merry laugh had been stolen away. The time had come to admit that all of these things were now long gone and that no amount of wishing or hoping would ever bring them back. Detached, Tifa watched as her father stomped back toward his desk and slumped unceremoniously into the chair.
"Take your husband and go to hell!"
There was bitterness in his voice, and perhaps a little regret.
Cloud led her to the door and picked up her suitcase. Although her feet followed obediently, her heart was troubled. Would Papa be alright without her? Was she being selfish to leave him alone? For years, Tifa had tried to see through his anger and identify what it was that was hurt him enough to make him act this way. After all this time she still was unsure, but knew that she couldn't be who he wanted her to be. Searching for solace, she looked to meet her husband's eyes and the brilliant blue filled her with reassurance. Cloud had always loved her for exactly who she was and in him she knew she could find healing and purpose. He picked up her suitcase and gave her hand a squeeze as he led her out into the night.
"Come on," he encouraged softly. "We'll miss the train."
After so much pain and sadness, Tifa was ready for her new life to begin. Don't look back, she told herself. Her childhood home had become nothing more to her than wood and pipes and pain. The bright memories of her early days were tucked neatly into her suitcase. Her injuries, she left in the dust.
... ... ...
A/N: Here they go, off to Midgar! They'll live happily ever after now, right? :P
So, I've been chatting through PM with Ro Oeuvre Belvedere and we are wondering how Cloud and Tifa's relationship will be handled in the remake. I mean, do you think they'll still make the love triangle a thing even after defining Aerith and Zack's relationship so well? As a Cloti fan, I've always longed that they'd flesh out Cloud and Tifa's childhood background a little more (which is why I'm writing a fic like this). I hope that we get more of a glimpse into why Cloud was so driven to impress her and join SOLDIER. I mean, if they hadn't been decent friends, wouldn't he have thought she as foolish as he thought the other kids were?
Just a thought. x3