Wednesday evening, Tifa invites Cloud over for dinner. She suggests he help her with cooking, and he diligently goes about chopping the vegetables she lays out for him. She handles the meat, since he's such a "baby about the texture." At her words, his lips pucker in what Tifa can only call a pout.
"Just because I hate how it feels…" he grumbles.
Tifa grins, kissing his cheek. She takes the vegetables from him, sliding them off the cutting board and onto a roasting pan.
"Have you been practicing?" she asks, observing the cuts as she seasons the pieces.
He blushes. "Uh…a few times, when I'm not here."
"I can tell," she says, placing the pan in the oven. She walks over to the sink, and she rinses off her hands.
Shaking his head, he smirks and meets her in the small aisle of the kitchen. He places his hands on her hips and turns her toward him. She dries her palms and lets them come up to the line of his shoulders. He leans forward to kiss her, and she presses her body against him. The kiss is sweet and soft, and Cloud ends it with a sigh.
"I'm going out of town tomorrow," he says. "Last minute business trip."
"Oh, really?" she asks, settling back just enough to look up at his face. "Something for Rufus?"
He shifts. "Kind of. It's for the company and…something I need to do," he says.
She runs an absent hand over his chest. "Where are you going?"
"I…" he trails. "The Western Continent. There's…a materia plant." He shakes his head. "Sorry. I'm…not supposed to say. We'll verify it and announce it all on Sunday."
Tifa frown a little, but she nods. "Yeah…yeah, okay." She sighs. "When are you leaving tomorrow?"
"Early morning," he says. "I should be back before the ceremony."
"You better be," she says, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "It's not a ceremony if the CEO isn't there."
Cloud smirks. "I have to kiss you, too, don't I? In front of everyone for the world to see."
She grins. "I don't know. That breaks the rules of business policy. Rufus might fire us."
"He wouldn't dare fire you," he says. "Trust me. He'll probably send you flowers like Al did." Rolling his eyes, he squeezes her closer.
She chuckles against him before lapsing into silence. Humming, she says, "I'm going to miss you."
"…me, too," he mumbles. "It won't be long."
"Call me? Let me know when you make it and that you're safe."
He runs his fingers through her hair. "Of course."
Biting her lip, she says, "Be careful."
"Don't worry," he says. "I'll be fine."
"I know you slay dragons, but…"
He scoffs a laugh. "I'll be fine. I have to make my way back to you."
She almost rolls her eyes at him, but his words warm her regardless. "You're ridiculous, Strife."
"Just being honest," he says.
After a moment, she steps back to check on the chicken. Satisfied, she leans against the island, tilting her head at him. "I'm actually from the Western Continent. Nibelheim. It's a smaller city. It isn't as big as Midgar, even smaller than Edge."
"Yeah," he says. "I knew that from your resume."
"Oh. Right," she says. "Well, if you're in the neighborhood or stop there when traveling, they have the best pie shop."
"Do they?" he asks.
"Yes. They have a pie shop and a bowling alley. There's a really good diner there, too. It's mostly for tourists, but they have delicious milkshakes."
Cloud smiles. "That sounds nice."
"There's a rundown playground near my neighborhood. I guess, it used to be rundown. It was cleaned up before I left."
"You used to play there growing up?" he asks.
"Yeah, when I was younger. It became the place to go for older teenagers to…you know. Meet up with each other."
"Ah," Cloud mutters. "You go there often?"
"Only a few times," she confesses, glancing away toward the countertop. "Once for a boy. Other times for my girlfriends who needed to talk."
Tifa remembers that—high school, when every single blemish in life was the end of the world. So much weight and dramatics, so many times where situations were puzzles without a solution, where hugs and soft words were glue to repair hearts and wounds.
"I can see you doing that," Cloud says. "Helping your friends. Being an ear for them. You were popular even then, weren't you?"
Tifa blushes lightly at that, smiling. "Oh, no. I wouldn't say that. I just wanted to be there for them whenever they needed me."
Cloud makes a soft noise, sounding almost like a grunt. "You said once for a boy."
Tifa thinks back to it—how innocent their meeting had been, how they had swung on the seats of the swing set, chatting lowly into the stillness of the night. He'd been a fair-haired, soft-spoken, and had eyes as warm and brown as dark chocolate. Nothing had happened from it, not even a kiss. Her father made sure of that. When Tifa looks up at Cloud, she smiles.
"You know how you said you have a type?" she asks. At his raised eyebrow, she continues. "I guess I have a type, too. Fair-haired, soft-spoken…blue-eyed."
"Lucky me," he says. "The boy you met was like that?"
"Yes. Just about." She shakes her head. "He had brown eyes instead of blue."
"Ah," Cloud says, smiling. "Was he skinny? Short?"
"He was," she admits. "His hair wasn't as spiked, though."
"No wonder it didn't last."
She laughs. "Yes. No wonder." She crosses her arms, beginning to feel nostalgic. Memories race across her mind, and she settles into them.
"It was a good place to grow up," she says. "Quiet and quaint…when I was younger, I thought it was boring and small, and when mom died, it felt so suffocating. I began to hate it. Now, though," she says, shrugging one shoulder. "I'm glad that's my hometown. It wasn't terrible. It was just enough."
Cloud leans against the opposite countertop, looking at her. He crosses his arms over his chest.
"We lived on the outskirts of Kalm for most of my childhood. Not many people there," he says. "I never knew much differently until I was a teenager, but…I don't know. Made me wonder what else was out there. Everything seemed so…big outside of my home. I wanted to explore and figure it all out." He scoffs a little, glancing toward the floor. "Then my dad died, and I didn't care about the world so much."
A sad smile begins to form on Tifa's face. It hits her with pure force—because she knows exactly what he means. She knows what it feels like for the world to drain the passion and wonderment and excitement from dreams and hope and possibilities. She knows what it feels like to think that happiness doesn't exist, to watch the people you love crumble into despair like a house burning into ash.
Most of all, she knows what it's like to be unable to do anything to fix it.
"Do you care about it, now?" she asks.
He glances up at her. His gaze roves over the planes of her face, landing on her lips. They catch eyes for a moment, and he opens his mouth before closing it.
"I care about it more than I have in a while," he says. "Enough to…learn how to cook better."
Tifa's smile brightens at that.
"Good. I'm glad."
His eyes fall to her smile.
"Yeah. Me, too."
Later, when they are full and warm with food, they pull each other to her bedroom. They curl up on the bed and pull down the covers and have sex. Tifa calls it making love in the confines of her mind, because their hands weave and intertwine above her head. Her legs wrap around his waist like a ribbon tied along a gift. He rolls into her with slow surety, angling deeper and deeper as she matches his thrusts, their skin hitting and rubbing like it's the only thing they were made to do. In the moment, it is the only thing.
Their foreheads press together as they recover, coming so delicately and completely. Cloud's hands trail up and down her thighs, and her hands come up to hold the damp lines of his neck.
"I have to pack," he says. "Should have done it earlier."
"Mm, I wish you did," she mumbles, kissing him. "That's okay. Five more minutes?"
"Yeah," he says, turning to the side. He pulls her into him and kisses her again. "Five more."
When they part and Cloud dresses, Tifa wraps herself in a bathrobe. Cloud stares at her when she does, and he shakes his head.
"Remember when I sent you all those lingerie pictures?" he asks. "It still needs to happen."
She chuckles at him, placing her hands on her hips. He rubs at his face and looks away, sighing.
"Maybe I'll have a surprise for you when you get back," she winks.
Cloud begins giving her an indulgent grin. "If you're offering."
She walks him to the door, and they linger there. Cloud gives her a kiss goodbye.
"See you soon," he says.
"See you. Be careful."
"I will." He smiles softly before he turns and walks down the stairwell.
Tifa closes the door when he's out of sight, and it's strange how different it feels without him in the cramped space of her apartment.
There is suddenly too much room.
The week drags on. Knowing Cloud isn't in the office building makes work and meetings much less exciting than they have been the past seven weeks. It astounds Tifa it's already been seven weeks and has only been seven weeks. It feels simultaneously too short and absurdly long.
At closing time Thursday as Tifa is leaving the building, she wonders if this is how it will feel if Cloud discontinues his career after the merger. It is a sensation of emptiness, just like it had been in her apartment.
Her phone buzzes as she steps onto the sidewalk. Expecting Cloud's name on her phone, it surprises her when it's Yuffie's. She smiles and opens the message.
Yuffie: Dinner date with SOLDIER CFO is a go. 7 pm.
Jessie: Wear the short dress!
Tifa laughs.
Tifa: That dark green dress, right?
Yuffie: Yes. Excellent idea, ladies.
Aerith: Okay wait but how fast did he respond?
Yuffie: Fast enough. We texted throughout the work day.
Tifa raises a brow, trying to imagine Vincent reading his text messages and contemplating his responses in the middle of work. And meetings. It boggles Tifa's mind.
Tifa: Honestly, thinking about Vincent texting at all is a stretch for me. Which means he is very interested.
Jessie: Oh man, it sounds like he might finally want a different piece of ass than that Lucrecia chick.
Yuffie: Listen, I'm offering that we use each other, first. And if he says yes, then I wouldn't mind grabbing his ass, also. ;)
Aerith: Grab all the ass.
Tifa: Vincent will be too prim and proper. You need to teach him, Yuffie.
Yuffie: Oh, that I can do. Sounds like a fun challenge.
Tifa smiles at that.
Jessie: You better give us a play by play, I swear to all that is holy.
Aerith: I will be on my couch all evening, waiting for updates.
Tifa: Me, too. Oh you know what we should do?
Jessie: What?
Jessie: Wait I know I know. Converge at someone's apartment! I'll have the chocolate.
Aerith: I'll have wine! 3
Tifa grins, typing out quickly.
Tifa: My apartment! I have a bottle of wine, too, Aerith.
Aerith: Okay, that means I'll only bring about three more. LOL
Jessie: OMG this is so exciting. When was the last time we did this? On a WEEKDAY? Wow, who are we?
Yuffie: Why am I jealous that I'm the one going on this date and missing the girl convergence?!
Tifa: No, Yuffie, you must seduce him. We won't be too mad if you can't make it to my apartment after dinner, though.
Aerith: Just as long as you go to the bathroom and update us.
Jessie: I am team Yuffie Gets Fucked Tonight, but I also wouldn't mind if you didn't and came back home to join us.
Yuffie: We shall see. I will send updates, you can bet on it. And we're going here.
Yuffie sends an address, and Tifa taps on it. It opens up to a restaurant website in upper Sector 1, and Tifa's eyebrows raise at the complete and utter indulgence of the photos and menu prices.
Yuffie replies with a devil-emoji before anyone can respond.
Yuffie: Tbh this makes me NOT want to put out yet, because it is stupid expensive. And he chose it.
Jessie: DAYUMMMM, is this his normal CFO outing or what
Aerith: This looks like a place you'd get engaged, not a first date.
Tifa: This IS Vincent. This is probably his general fare.
Yuffie: Listen, I don't mind it. LMAO
Yuffie: Maybe I'll do a kiss and a crotch grab and leave him wanting. HAH
Aerith: A crotch grab! Omg please. Hahaha
Tifa: Haha Yuffie! If you don't tease him I would be very disappointed.
Jessie: Yuff, have I ever told you that you have my heart and soul because I completely support this.
Tifa giggles as she arrives to her apartment, beginning to tidy up and ready her place for the girls to come over. She showers, slips on her sweats, and texts the girls.
Tifa: Want me to make dinner or order in?
Jessie: OMG TEEF I have not had your food in so long. Is it selfish of me to ask you to feed us? Aerith, what you think?
Aerith: Oh, I am always down for Tifa's food but only if you want to spend the time cooking! Ordering in is perfect, too.
Tifa warms up all over.
Tifa: I love cooking for you guys! Cooking it is!
Jessie: Fuck yeah
Aerith: Okay, I'm bringing over my sleepover bag, hope you don't mind.
Jessie: I wasn't even going to ask lol
Tifa: Perfect. Yes, please sleepover!
Tifa: And what food do you feel? Pasta? Those chicken kabobs?
Jessie: Literally anything.
Aerith: Ohhhh pasta? Pasta and wine and chocolate. This is the promised land.
Jessie: Genius, pure genius. I'm salivating.
Yuffie responds twenty minutes before 7:00 pm.
Yuffie: Fuck.
Yuffie: Seriously. You guys.
Yuffie: Eating pasta and wine WITHOUT ME.
Yuffie: Vincent better be worth it, goddamn it.
Jessie: But how hot do you look?
Aerith: So hot, I feel her steam hitting me like a sauna.
Tifa, busy with prepping the food, keeps her phone open so she can read the texts roll in. She snorts at Yuffie's responses and laughs at the rest.
Jessie: Hot like a stovetop burner.
Aerith: Like a bonfire
Jessie: You could fry an egg on her
Aerith: I'm sweating like a whore in church
Jessie: Hotter than Ifrit's balls
Aerith: Hotter than Ifrit's asshole
Yuffie: Omg
Jessie: Hotter than Ifrit's underwear
Yuffie: You guys please
Jessie: Hotter than a shruiken up Vincent's ass
Aerith: Hotter than a shruiken up RENO's ass
Jessie: Hotter than Vincent's stare on Yuffie's perfectly rounded ass
Aerith: Hotter than the flames of the sun in Vincent's red eyes as he stares at that perfectly rounded ass
Jessie: Aerith, I'm high-fiving you right now.
Yuffie: OKAY YOU GUYS GOODBYE
Aerith: Hehe, thanks I was really inspired. Yuffie go make him fall in love with you.
Jessie: We'll be thinking of you as we gorge ourselves on pasta and wine
Yuffie: I hate you all.
Yuffie: 3
By the time Sunday rolls around, Tifa has texted Cloud all of five times.
The first was his I made it text. The second was Tifa's Good luck with the job!
The third and fourth was a good morning and good night text. The fifth was his Coming home text on Sunday morning.
Tifa smiles as she reads it early that day.
See you soon, she types. Then she adds a heart at the end after a moment's hesitation.
Just past noon, Cloud texts her again.
Cloud: What are you wearing, tonight?
She's standing in her closet, thinking about just that. She has two dresses she never wears but has bought for special occasions. Yuffie is coming over a little later, and she already knows which one she'll choose. The first drapes along her hips and shoulders, a feminine cut of fabric in a shimmery, light purple. The second is a dark blue, almost indigo color, with a daring neckline and hem that stops two and a half inches below her bottom. Tifa knows this exact number, because she measured it.
Yuffie will pick the second one.
Tifa: A dress.
Cloud: No details?
Tifa: Nope. You'll have to wait. I did think about a suit and tie so we could match.
Cloud: Honestly, you would look good in that, too.
Tifa: Haha, yeah right.
Cloud: I'd dig it.
Tifa: Did you just say dig it?
Cloud: Yeah. I know, I'm hilarious.
Tifa: Yes, you really are.
Cloud: I think you're the only person who thinks I'm funny.
Tifa: I'm 100% certain that's a lie.
Cloud: I promise you.
Tifa: Sure, sure. How far out are you?
Cloud: Four hours or so. Stopped for lunch. About to get back on the road.
Tifa: Alright. Be careful.
Cloud: I will.
Cloud: As long as I don't think about you in a dress.
Tifa rolls her eyes, but she smiles nonetheless.
"Okay, okay, so you're wearing this one. You cannot say no."
Yuffie all but screams it at her as she lovingly lays the dress across her bed. Tifa watches as Yuffie gives her her most I dare you look. She sighs.
"Yuffie, that isn't appropriate for the business function. It shows…too much."
Yuffie rolls her eyes, falling onto her bed in a huff. "Then why'd you buy it? I've seen you wear it once. Once."
"Yes, but…"
"And you're going to take it off at the end of the evening anyway," Yuffie says, grinning widely. "Not like it'll hurt you. Besides, I'm wearing this one!"
She bounces off the bed and goes to the living room, brandishing the dress in the plastic sleeve in front of her.
"It is just as daring as yours. We'll be matching. You won't be alone. We can look tantalizingly hot together. We've got boys to impress."
Tifa admits, looking at the scraps of fabric between them—which both cost an inordinate amount of money for the amount of cloth actually stitched together—does make her a bit excited. And nervous. She's never been to such a large celebratory function with so many bigwigs mingling with one another, drinking, talking, and having an all around good time. She's definitely never been to one where she was secretly dating the CEO.
Her mind catches. Dating. Were they dating? She frowns. It must say enough that she doesn't know exactly what they are. And perhaps it doesn't matter. After tonight, things might change. Cloud may make his decision about his future. He might even kiss her in front of the company—but she highly doubts that. It was more of a tease than anything else.
Regardless, she imagines walking into the Shinra Convention center, arm in arm with Yuffie, and catching Cloud's eyes while in that dress, wondering how he'll look at her or what he'll do.
The mere thought of it plunges into her stomach like a pour of molten lava. Her discomfort in the face of Cloud's reaction suddenly seems like a childish argument.
Placing her hands on her hips, she says determinedly, "Okay. Let's match."
Yuffie fist pumps into the air.
"Atta girl! I knew you'd come to your senses!"
Tifa huffs, smiling and going to the bathroom. Yuffie follows closely behind.
Yuffie's date with Vincent the other evening went so well, even Yuffie was flabbergasted by it. In her shock from the date, the easy agreement to take her to the ceremony, and how the lighting brandished his red, gleaming eyes, Yuffie did something very out of character at the end of the dinner.
She turned down his invitation to his apartment.
That Vincent Valentine even invited Yuffie to his place of living was unfathomable. That Yuffie said no was incomprehensible.
Yet, for all of Yuffie's bluster, confidence, and sexual cheekiness, Tifa has to remind herself that Yuffie loves deeply. She shows it with teasing and reckless abandon and annoying nags and obnoxious quirks, but at the end of the day, she is still a girl with a handful of insecurities and fears.
When she arrived at Tifa's apartment that evening, her cheeks were rosy from imbibing too much sake, and her hair was ruffled as if it had been fluffed with kissing.
"Nope," she had said, pointing at her hair. "Nope, this was just me, running my hands through my own damn hair because sweet Leviathan—I wasn't expecting him to be as smooth as me!"
Jessie had asked why the fuck she was there. Aerith giggled and slapped her on the shoulder before hauling herself off the couch to wrap her arms around Yuffie's shoulders. Tifa placed her chin in her hand and watched Aerith and Yuffie's interaction with a dopey, wine-filled smile.
"Luckily!" Yuffie had said, carrying on and squeezing Aerith to her side. "Him and I want the same thing. To move on."
Aerith squealed. Jessie cackled. Tifa grinned.
"Really? He said that?" Tifa asked.
Yuffie waved her hand. "In so many words."
Tifa's eyes narrowed. Jessie drawled, "Wait, in so many words? What the hell does that mean?"
Aerith poked Yuffie's stomach. Yuffie whined. "He said he was tired of Lucrecia's games. I said I was tired of being in emotional limbo. So, win-win."
They all crashed on the couch together, drinking the rest of the wine and eating the last few pieces of chocolate before passing out sprawled across the cushions.
Now, preparing their faces in the mirror, Tifa catches Yuffie's eye. Yuffie raises a brow.
"What's up?"
"Nothing, just…" Tifa trails, smiling and shrugging. "I'm happy you're here with me, that's all."
Yuffie bumps her hip. "Ditto, hot stuff."
They take a drive share to the convention center. As they arrive and step out of the car, Yuffie threads her arm through Tifa's, just as Tifa knew she would.
"Wow, I feel like I'm on some kind of red carpet or something," Yuffie stage whispers, glancing around at the other employees arriving. "See, aren't you glad you said yes to this dress? Because some of these people…" she whistles.
Tifa glances around. Yuffie's right. Half the bodies surrounding the front entrance, Tifa doesn't even recognize. Everyone has worn what looks to be their fanciest suits, ties, dresses, heels, and hair. There are sparkles and shining baubles around necks and ears, brooches, bracelets, tattoos that have always been hidden underneath tailored business clothes, and different styles of makeup across eyelids and cheeks.
Even with the dress and curled hair, Tifa feels out of place. Yuffie must notice, because she tugs on Tifa's arm.
"No. Quit."
Tifa blinks. "What?"
"You're thinking those thoughts again. That you don't belong. Quit."
Tifa opens her mouth before closing it. She shakes her head. "How'd you…"
Yuffie taps her temple. "I know things."
Tifa smiles. "Have I told you I'm glad you're here?"
"Yes, but not enough," Yuffie beams. "Now, let's go mingle with some boys."
As they walk through the front doors, the entrance sprawls open into a magnificent display of chandeliers, sleek tile floors, and small, rounded tables, both raised and lowered for standing or sitting. Drinks are floating around on silver serving trays, hors d'oeuvres following closely behind. Yuffie deftly plucks two champagne glasses off of one tray that suddenly passes by them, handing one to Tifa.
"This is a fancy place," Yuffie says, eyeballing the finery.
"Shinra does nothing in halves," Tifa answers, gaze catching on the decor. Statues are placed in corners, each a bust of the founding fathers of the company. Rufus' father's statue is the largest, with others including different scientists and engineers which names elude Tifa. Vases filled with white roses encumber open tables and border the front entrance and hallways off to the right and left of the room. Spotlight shine on pictures framed on the walls, Shinra Sr. Shaking hands with different silhouettes of men—farmers, scientists, developers, and the like. Others show interchanging levels of equipment, from guns to motorcycles and automobiles. Another shows test tubes, microscopes, and a centrifuge, with different employees smiling or scowling with concentration into an eyepiece.
It is a room rich with history, resplendent with overpriced materials, and perfumed with the heavy scent that is so inexplicably Shinra, that Tifa can't help but squint her eyes at all of it, nor can she dislike it. For all Shinra's worth, he can certainly decorate a room.
"Oh, kill me," Yuffie grumbles, tugging Tifa closer. "Red-haired dickwad, two o'clock."
Tifa glances over in Yuffie's stated direction, Reno's shock of personality a light beam across the room. His smirk is so wide, the distance between them feels much smaller than it actually is. Tifa sighs, nudging her.
"I see your new man on the opposite side of the room. He looks a bit lonely. What do you think?"
Yuffie follows her nudge, following her gaze. She finds Vincent almost immediately. Tifa has to admit that he does look handsome with his tailored black suit, pressed black tie, and crisp white shirt pulled across his chest. It continues to shock Tifa that she had never realized the appeal Vincent Valentine could have until now.
"I think…he looks good. Really good."
Tifa grins. "Go on, then. Save him before Lucrecia shows up."
"Ugh," Yuffie groans, but Tifa can see her beginning to smile. "The agony of being selfless."
"Isn't it such a chore?"
"The largest burden I've ever had to shoulder." She squeezes Tifa's arm before letting go, unraveling their arms. "Find me when you need me?"
"Of course. You too."
Yuffie crosses her arms. "I can't wait to know how Cloud looks at you. He's going to have a coronary."
Tifa laughs. "I hope not, for my sake."
"You should have the ambulance on speed dial, just in case," Yuffie grins, turning to walk off. "Later, Teef."
Tifa watches her go, noticing how Vincent shifts when he sees her. His already straight back straightens further. He doesn't smile as she flounces up to him, but his eyes dart to her legs before he catches himself, changing his stare to the mass of people around their table. Yuffie, in her utter boldness, reaches up and pinches his cheek. Vincent steps back in a startle, and Yuffie's laughter bubbles up around the room.
Her mouth moves as she says something. Vincent seems to think about it, taking a drink from his glass. Yuffie punches his arm, and Vincent looks heavily disgruntled about it. This causes Yuffie to laugh even more.
"Tifa!"
Turning around at her name, Tifa beams up at the newcomer.
"Reeve," she says, smiling. "You are dressed very well, tonight."
Reeve extends his arms and looks down at himself, as if it's the first time he's noticed how he's dressed.
"Ah, thank you. Had to dust out the old tuxedo for tonight. I'm happy it still fit me."
Tifa chuckles. Reeve has been slim for the entire five years that she's known him. He hasn't changed a bit except for the lightly peppered hair in his beard and along his temples. A few crow's feet border his eyes, but Tifa has never thought about them as wrinkles. They are happy things, developed and advanced by too many smiles.
"Of course, it still fits you," she answers.
"Yes, well…" he trails, gesturing to her. "You look very beautiful, as always."
Tifa smiles, attempting to keep her hands from crossing in front of her. "Thank you. Everyone here looks very nice."
"I agree with you on that. Half the people here, I don't feel like I know." He smiles at her. "Did you bring a date?"
At the question, she immediately panics before she thinks of Yuffie. "I…yes. I did. One of my girlfriends. She's currently occupied with Vincent, though."
Reeve's eyebrows shoot up. "Vincent? Really? Huh."
Tifa laughs. "That was my reaction, too."
"Gotta hand it to him, then," he says, rubbing his goatee. "Are you looking forward to the announcement?"
A miniature chill forms a bead of ice beneath her sternum. She's not sure why it makes her anxious. She's been avoiding the thought of it, not wanting to waste any more nervous energy about it.
"I…yes. I think so."
Reeve nods. "It should be…beneficial for everyone. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised, Tifa."
She blinks. "Do you…know what it is?"
Shifting on his feet, Reeve crosses his arms. "All of the department heads are privy to the announcement, yes. I…apologize for the opacity, but it was for the best." He places a hand on his hip. "I'm actually surprised it wasn't leaked. Tells you a lot about the leadership, I think."
Tifa nods, biting the inner meat of her lip. "I understand. Still, I guess I'm…hesitant about how I feel. I've never truly trusted Shinra Inc. but…"
I trust Cloud.
"Don't worry," Reeve says, placing a hand on her shoulder. He gives her a genuine smile. "It will be just fine."
Reeve is eventually called off to the side by Cait, who begins talking animatedly, his voice high and nasally.
Tifa sighs and glances around the room for Cloud. She glances at her phone, but it has no new messages. Reeve's words repeat through her mind. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised.
The words feel like a zipper pulled too tight, like cold, chilled fingers pressed against her spine.
She walks around, finding an empty table and filching another glass of champagne. She watches the people around her, her eyes spying Al and a few girls from another department. She catches Elena's blonde bob. She's standing beside the black, long-haired man, Tseng, if Tifa remembers correctly, who actually seems to be smiling. Elena, for her part, looks even prettier than usual with red lipstick and eyeshadow dusting around her eyes. Elena sees Tifa after a moment and smiles, waving. Tifa waves back.
Her gaze eventually lands on Scarlet—who is unsurprisingly wearing another red dress—and is somehow even more scandalous than her work dresses. Her neckline dips down to her bellybutton, the slit on the side nearly reaching up to her hipbone. Her hair folds down around her face in waves, and her eyes are lined with black, sharpening the icicles of her blue irises. Her lips are the color of a last, dying breath. They are two slices of bleeding plums, dark red and bruised.
She is ferocious and magnetizing in her beauty. Heads turn in her direction, averting their eyes and swiveling back, unable to look away for long. Tifa can't help herself from staring, either. It's as if she has to look, and she dislikes her just a little bit more because of it.
"Tifa."
She glances up, too distracted by Scarlet to notice Cloud's arrival, and she is even more annoyed at Scarlet for stealing away the moment of noticing his entrance. He is already standing a mere five feet away from her. His tuxedo shines under the crystals of the chandelier, and if Tifa hadn't known any better, she'd think he'd stolen a spotlight from one of the statues at the front of the room.
His jacket is the color of a black hole, swallowing the world. The white cream of his shirt is such a sharp contrast with it that it zings into her stomach. It emphasizes his eye color, and she sees the swirl of deep blue and green fighting against one another as he stares.
"Cloud," she says. "Hi."
His eyes travel down her dress, and every muscle in her seizes up. She loses her breath. It feels like it's been so long since she's seen him. Has it only been three days? No, she thinks. It's been nearly a lifetime. He almost looks different—sharper lines around his jaw, his lips soft and kissable sitting below tanned cheeks. It must be from the drive. He's fresh from a journey, washed and scrubbed from the wind and sunlight of the winding roads. His eyes are dark with the sheen of lust, but they are also bright and eager, swallowing her up with a simple gaze.
"Hi," he says, his voice low and easy. It trickles over her like rain. "May I share the table with you?"
She takes a deep breath, trying to regain her presence of mind. She wants to reach out and grip his crisply dressed shoulders, dig her fingers into his collar, and taste the journey on his lips. She wants to tell him she's been thinking about him in her bed, wrapped in her sheets, every night he's been gone.
"Of course," she whispers.
Instead of standing across from her, he steps forward. He comes right up beside her, gently touching her arm. She tenses up to keep from reaching to skim his face with her fingers.
"You're beautiful, tonight. I mean, you're beautiful all the time, but…"
She smiles, blushing. "You're not so bad, yourself. You look...handsome."
He stares at her. She stares back.
"I want to kiss you," he says, daring to graze her hip with his palm. She bites the inside meat of her lip.
"Why don't you?"
He sighs, his jaw moving. A hand comes up to run through his hair. "Don't tempt me."
"You shouldn't have looked so…" she pauses, eyes running over him. "Sexy."
His fist clenches on the table. "Your dress is…" he trails, his eyes darting to her cleavage. "To see you after three days in…in that."
His voice is craggy and rough. He presses himself further against the table, and Tifa glances down. Her cheeks heat and her breath comes out in a huff.
"Cloud…" she says. "Are you…"
"Yes." His voice is clipped. "Gaia, I want you."
Her blood rushes in a blazing hum. She glances up around the room, grabbing her glass to keep from grabbing his hand. No one seems to notice them standing so close—everyone else seems to be too close to one another, anyway. They won't look suspicious in the grand scheme of things.
"I want you, too," she says.
He makes a small groan in the back of his throat.
"We could go to the bathroom," he says.
"Hm, we could," she answers, his heated reaction inspiring her. She turns her body to face him fully. "Or we could find another room in this building."
"It's big enough," Cloud says, turning to match her. Their bodies are inches apart, and Tifa can feel his warmth in the space between them. "We could find another desk."
Tifa's cheeks redden deeper, encouraged by the light edge of the alcohol. She leans forward just enough, so close to his cheek and ear, and she's not sure how she keeps from kissing him. Instead she says, "We can make it quick. It's still the weekend."
She settles back. His eyes chase her, and he swallows. "Still the weekend? What do you…?"
Tifa laughs lightly and breathlessly, turning back to the table and taking a sip of the champagne.
Cloud watches her for a minute. In a slow descent, his eyes fog over. "Do you mean you're…"
She smiles at him, lowering her voice. "I don't wear underwear on Sundays."
Cloud chokes. "Tifa…" He glances down to the dangerously short line of her dress. "You're not…"
A hand claps down on Cloud's shoulder, and Tifa has never seen him jump so high. It startles him so much, he begins to stutter.
"Mr. Strife!" Barret bellows, laughing loudly. He's holding a half-empty beer bottle, grinning over to Tifa. "And Teef. You are lookin' dynamite. Don't let this CEO get the best of you." He laughs again, and Tifa can tell he's drunk because he's never this happy during work.
Tifa smiles back. "I won't, Barret."
Barret shakes Cloud's shoulder, and Cloud scowls, but he seems too incapacitated with attempting to keep his front situated away from Barret's view. Tifa has to bite her tongue to keep from laughing outright at him.
"No business, Mr. Strife!" Barret points. "No firing anyone for lookin' at you funny, ya hear?"
"Noted," Cloud mumbles, glaring at Barret. Barret laughs again, shakes his head, and stomps away. Cloud watches him go and mutters, "Why does he always kill the mood?"
Tifa giggles, following his gaze. "His timing is…too good."
"Too terrible," Cloud sighs, snatching a champagne glass from a waiter. He drinks it aggressively. Tifa observes him, witnessing him finally relax, and, unfortunately, losing his arousal.
"How was the trip?" she asks eventually.
He shifts, staring at his dainty glass. "Tiring."
"Do a lot?"
His brows pinch together. "I tried. Didn't go anywhere, though."
Tilting her head, she says, "What do you mean? Was the plant not sustainable?"
Cloud opens his mouth before scowling. He glances back at her, and she sees a flicker of hesitation. It makes the pressure of the anxiety crawl up her spine, finding a tender spot behind her neck.
"No. It wasn't that," he says.
She frowns. "What's wrong?"
He places his weight through his elbows on the table. "After the announcement…" he trails, averting his eyes. "I'll tell you. I promise."
Her trust in him wars with the collar of nervousness squeezing her throat.
She gazes at the line of his jaw and the indecision of his eyes. She swallows and says, "Okay."
It doesn't take long for Rufus to take the helm at the front of the room. A projector has been set up, the insignia of the Shiva and Ifrit design hold precedence against the white wash backdrop of the wall. Rufus taps a champagne glass with a knife into the microphone on the podium, and the room slowly dims to a hushed quiet, broken up by the occasional laugh or whispered conversation that rebelliously continues on.
"My fellow colleagues and compatriots," Rufus drawls into the microphone. He smiles and glances over the whole room like a swipe of a hand. "I am grateful and a blessed man to have so many passionate, intelligent, driven individuals in my midst. I wanted to thank you all, first and foremost, for your patience with this merger and for your faith in maintaining your positions with us. This new and improved company would not be here without your diligence, hardworking efforts, or teamwork."
Tifa glances at Cloud, catching his eye. "Is this still Rufus Shinra?"
Cloud shakes his head. "I'm as surprised as you. I didn't think he'd be so genuine."
"With that being said, I want to talk about the new frontier we have been trying so hard to perfect before coming to the forefront. Where's Cloud Strife? Cloud, come up here."
Tifa angles herself so that Cloud can walk past her. She gives him a smile. He tries to smile back, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He makes his way to the front of the room, standing to the right of the podium. He glances around the audience, but Tifa doesn't think he truly sees any of them. He shoves his hands in his pockets.
"Now, several months ago, I reached out to Cloud about an idea. At first he was skeptical, and understandably so. I was, too. It wasn't until we made the discovery of Shiva and Ifrit that I knew we had something that could change the world forever. The earth creates orbs filled with life's force. With magic. With power. They are right beneath our feet if we only know where to look. We can harness them with the correct tools. And who knows how many there are? Shiva and Ifrit are sentient beings, but not all of them are like that. Some hold fire. Some hold ice. And another…another holds something else entirely."
Everyone in the room has stopped talking. Not even a lingering whisper or a cough resounds against the silence. Tifa's fingers curl harder against the glass. She feels the pressure of her anxiety at the base of her skull. Her heart thuds.
"I introduce to you…Cure!" Rufus says, and the panel behind him changes. It is a picture of a green, glowing orb, resembling the summoning orbs of Shiva and Ifrit. It is big enough to fit in the entirety of Tifa's palm, and in the moving picture on the wall, a list of details begin filling the space beside it. As Tifa reads over them, the blood begins to drain from her face.
"Over the generations, we've had several inventions for healthcare. Potions. Elixirs. Antidotes and balms and the like. These items have been imperative to sustain us. They have helped us to heal cuts and wounds, have been used for simple joint pains and headaches, and have been utilized as analgesics for surgeries. Every year we have evolved to make them better, more efficient, and, in some cases, less costly. But we continue to lack. What about the regenerative medicines? What about the antagonists of this world we can't fight? Burns. Heart attacks. Strokes. Alzheimer's."
Tifa stares at the screen. Then she stares at Rufus. In the middle of it, her eyes lock with Cloud, and when Rufus says, "Cancer," the glass in her hand cracks. She inhales a small gasp, glancing down at her hand to see a few trickles of blood seeping out from the creases of her fingers. She doesn't feel them. Instead, she looks back up at the screen.
Cancer. In big, bold letters.
"SOLDIER has equipped us with weaponry and engineering, developing infrastructure and architectural marvels. Shinra has helped to generate power for the world, lighting homes, electronics and gadgets. Generating power. That's what Shinra's motto has always been. Now, with materia, we can utilize what the earth has given us to help us lead stronger, happier, healthier lives. We will not be invincible. We will not be immortal. But there is more to life than the fear of death. More than our disabilities and traumas, more than living half lives and wishing things could be different."
Wishing things could be different. Tifa looks up again, only for her eyes to find Cloud's. He must have been staring at her this whole time, his gaze as intense as it is. She can almost feel the tears gathering behind her eyes. She can feel the pounding of her blood through every single artery in her brain.
A bud of hope begins to light inside of her, so immediate and unwanted, like a crescendo of a symphony. Tifa loses her breath.
"Before I get carried away," Rufus laughs, continuing. "I must mention we have been undergoing experimental trials. Animal testing has been successful. One in particular…" The screen changes to a lion—reddish fur and a dark, russet mane. His left eye is missing, scarred shut. His lips are curled in a snarl, but his one, gleaming amber eye is alight with emblazoned fervor. He's a beautiful, fearful being up against the white wall. "Red XIII. Afflicted with a degenerative neuromuscular disorder, he was quickly losing his ability to walk. As you can see…" Rufus trails, allowing for a video to unfold behind him. The lion's steps stutter and jerk, and one of his paws doesn't flex. He buckles underneath his weight, and the front half of his body tips to the floor. "Motor control was failing him. He was tripping and falling and unable to hunt or feed himself. After three timely administrations of Cure, Red XIII began showing improvements in his functional capabilities and has resumed full life in the wild. It has been three months without any signs of regression."
Tifa watches the next scene unfold on the wall, showing Red XIII pre-Cure and his movements post-Cure. He looks like a different animal—his muscles are more defined, his ribs no longer shadowed and his limbs full and healthy. Tifa squints to make sure he's still missing an eye in both videos, because this can't be real. This can't be real.
"I will not say that this is a one size fits all. I don't know if it will heal every disability. But it has potential. If it can help regenerate nervous tissue, it has the potential to regenerate all others. Clinical trials have started with humans, and we are always looking for anyone who would like to be part of this study, more individuals with different afflictions and diseases, so that we can speed this process along and make it readily available to the public. Now that this merger has finally, truly taken place, the studies, experiments, and streamlining efforts will be even better than before."
Rufus pauses, smiling out into the crowd. His lips are turned in a smug line, utterly pleased, his icy eyes alight with the hunger of discovery. It strikes Tifa that while Rufus may be arrogant and self-absorbed and used to getting what he wants, he also has a fiery drive. His tone throughout his announcement is riddled with heat, his voice lilting as if he could not get the information out fast enough. Standing tall and brazenly in his white suit jacket—matching the color of his own marble bust in the room—he resembles a beacon of light in a dark, dreary tunnel. Tifa never would have thought that she would place so much faith in his words. So much faith in this announcement and this merger and what he is proposing, because it is suddenly so personal. His words strum her heartstrings like a guitar. Her hand is still bleeding, and she absently grabs a napkin on the table to crumple it around her fingers. Her hands shake, and she takes a deep, fortifying breath.
"I know everyone must have several questions, and I will do my best to answer them. This is very much in its infancy, and the pharmaceutical department is doing its best to find alternative ways of administration, distilling Cure from the orbs of materia, packaging and the like. We are also discovering different types of materia every week, which I am hoping will later be equipped into different weaponry. But that is a chat for another day." Rufus nods to Cloud standing to his right. "In light of all of this, I believe our ex-CEO has something to announce, as well."
Cloud's face is as severe as ever. He glances over to Tifa before taking Rufus' place on the podium. Tifa swallows as Cloud's stoicism replaces and tames Rufus' sleek, cutting grin.
"Good evening, everyone," he starts, clearing his throat. "I know this news comes as a shock to most of you. I…apologize for being unable to share it with you all until now."
His eyes dart up, easily finding Tifa's. She does not want to think he's talking to her solely, in front of this whole room of people, but it feels like it—even with the stone planes of his face and the hard set of his eyes.
"I wanted to be sure, first. I thought it too good to be true. The world doesn't work this way. It doesn't equip us with the tools to heal ourselves or protect ourselves. We've always had to learn on our own. Trial and error. Experience and failure."
The words filter through her. She squeezes the napkin.
"Then, I was able to witness Cure in action. I used it on a dying dragon. Its wing was torn and severed at the joint, its chest slashed through."
A picture appears behind Cloud, and it is a still of the monster he is describing. It sits miserably in a pool of its own dark, tarry blood. Its eyes are murky and dulled, shadowed with the veil of death.
"I gave it a dose. I placed my hand on his jaw, and I watched it continue breathing. It needed time and extra care due the extensive wounds and the bleeding, but it survived. I knew then that this was something…if done right, this could be something we needed. We could help others. We could make the scary things less. What's the saying? It is not the length of life. It's the depth. We all die, eventually, so why not make it the best it can be while we're here?"
Tifa feels a tear fall down her cheek, and she quickly wipes it away. She looks up to see Yuffie making her way to her table. Tifa tries to smile at her. Yuffie only looks concerned, and when she arrives, she grabs her bicep and whispers, "Are you okay?"
Tifa nods hurriedly. "I'm fine."
"Did you know?"
Tifa glances up to Cloud. He's looking at her again.
"…no. I didn't."
"Because of this," Cloud continues. "I will no longer be CEO. I have resigned my position with the merger so that I can form another department within the company."
The scene behind him changes. The three continents appear on the wall, with each main city around the world highlighted with a red pin. Different roads are highlighted, and it looks like a colorful spiderweb stretched and sprawled against the terrain of Gaia.
"The department will be transportation and distribution," he says. "I want to get Cure out everywhere, but most importantly to the places that need it most. Hospitals. Rural communities. Lower socioeconomic tiers. The roads highlighted on this map don't have a major train line. People have to travel miles and miles to get the care they need, and with increasing numbers of monsters roaming the plains, it makes it that much more difficult and dangerous. It deters them. When they are sick, it makes it that much more dire and hopeless.
"That's why I proposed a new branch to Rufus. After seeing Cure's effects in real time, I began to realize that we have the power to change the world, if we want. Never did I think it would be from working with Rufus Shinra," Cloud says, and Tifa wants to laugh, but she also feels frozen in stasis, her muscles unable to participate or move. "But sometimes, the greatest things happen when you take the risk. Sometimes, believing is the first step toward the extraordinary. After tonight, I hope everyone begins to believe." Cloud pauses. "Thank you. Rufus will open it up for questioning."
He steps out from the podium, and his eyes immediately find Tifa. Tifa glances away, willing her heart to stop racing. She hears it boom and shudder in her ears.
She has to call her dad. She has to call him as soon as she can. She has to notify Rufus of her father and his cancer, see if she can apply him for the clinical trial.
She has so many things to do. She needs to clean her hand. She has to save her father.
She has to save her father.
She breathes in a strangled sob, not realizing how much her emotions are overcoming her. They swell in the back of her throat. She closes her eyes and wills it back. She doesn't notice Yuffie's hand on her shoulder until she says, "Hey, Teef, let's go to the bathroom and fix that hand, okay?"
She shakes her head. "I have to ask Rufus for—"
"I know you do," Yuffie interrupts. "Baby steps. Fix the hand. Then talk to Rufus. You're pretty when you cry, Tifa, but it's nothing compared to when you smile."
Tifa finds the laugh that has been caged in her chest slip out of her mouth, all wet and unsteady. Yuffie weaves her fingers around her forearm and gently pulls her to the side of the room, cutting through the crowd of people. Tifa looks up to see Cloud watching them leave. He still stands beside the podium, his expression stern and uncertain. His body is turned as if he is going to follow them, but he remains in his position.
Yuffie seems to do most of the work when they reach the bathroom, sudsing up Tifa's hands and bringing them under the warm, running water. Eventually, Tifa sighs and comes back to herself, slipping her hands away from Yuffie's hold and rinsing them on her own. She grabs a paper towel and dabs them dry.
"This changes everything," Tifa whispers. "Doesn't it?"
"Well…maybe not everything," Yuffie answers, tilting her head. "But it certainly changes what could happen. There's hope, Teef."
Hope. It settles in her ears. Cure. Hope. Such small words that are so powerful and mighty. The four letter words always seem to be the strongest. Hope. Hate. Need. Want. Love.
"Not yet," Tifa says, shaking her head. "I need to talk with Rufus, first. I need to see if it can be something for cancer. My dad is stage three. Pancreatic is too aggressive. It's going to travel. The survival rate is eight percent. Eight." She takes another breath, and it shakes in her lungs. "I can't hope. Not yet."
Yuffie's lips thin, and she nods her head, crossing her arms over her chest. "Yeah. I understand, Tifa."
She turns to the mirror to face herself. Her eyes are bloodshot but otherwise fine. Her hand has stopped bleeding. Her heart has slowed a little, enough to keep her body from shaking.
"Okay. I'll go wait in the line that I'm sure has formed in front of Rufus."
Yuffie pushes off the wall. "Did Cloud not tell you? Or warn you?"
Tifa pauses in front of the door. "No. He couldn't tell me. It was part of his business deal."
Yuffie raspberries. "Business deal? Really? He keeps this information from you as part of a business deal, and yet he fucks you because he's CEO and thinks he's better than everyone?"
Tifa stills, shaking her head. "No. That's not it, Yuffie."
"It sure sounds like it," she grumbles.
"He told me he couldn't tell me. He told me to trust him," Tifa says, explaining to Yuffie as much as she is to herself. She understands it. If she was in Cloud's position, what would she have done?
"If he cared about you, don't you think he would have broke the rules to tell you?" Yuffie asks. "I would have told you. Hell, I would have put your dad at the top of the list for trials! I would have started him on the trial without giving a flying fuck about my job!"
"Yuffie…" she starts. "It's not like we…it's not like we're…"
She sighs. "Yeah. I know. I'm sorry, I'm just…boys. Boys make me so mad. They are stupid, and they lack foresight, and they tell you they love you when they don't even know what that means!"
Tifa smiles a little. She glances at Yuffie, who's lips are turned in a snarl.
"They might not know what it means, but I do. And I love you, Yuffie."
"I love you, too, Tifa," Yuffie says, stepping up to her. She wraps her arms around her waist from behind. "I'm here for you. Whatever you need."
"Thanks." She squeezes her arms. "I'm going to go talk to Rufus. You go back to Vincent. Keep making Reno jealous. I can take it from here."
"Okay," she mumbles against her neck. "Go get 'em."
Yuffie steps forward and slips out the door. Tifa inhales and follows behind her. As they get to the opening leading into the main room, Cloud is leaning against the wall. He pushes off when he sees them.
"Tifa—" he starts, interrupted by Yuffie.
"Cloud Strife," she says, stepping in front of him. "I don't care how good you are in bed. You're on my shit list. If you hurt her, I will sterilize you. Mark my words." She points at her eyeballs then points at him as she flounces past. Cloud watches her, seemingly struck.
He turns back to Tifa, his mouth partly open. He seems to come back to his senses as he looks over her.
"Tifa…I…"
Tifa shakes her head. "Don't listen to her. Well, I guess, yes, listen to her. But it's okay. She's overprotective of me, that's all."
Cloud frowns, standing in front of her.
"I'm glad she is. Tifa, when you told me about your dad—"
Tifa raises a hand. "I understand, Cloud. I don't think I could have told you either."
He shakes his head. "I wasn't sure if it would work. Cancer is different than wounds. Different than nerves. I didn't want to give you something—" he pauses, interrupting himself. "I didn't want to give you…another disappointment."
His words hit her with a tender punch. Hope is a cruel thing. Disappointment is even worse. They both know it intimately.
Deep down, Tifa almost hates this. She has been so close to accepting her father's death. She was going to give it one more chance. She was going to visit him after the merger and tell him how much she loved him and how she could almost understand his oceanic, unending love for her mother, and how much it terrified her. She was going to tell him how she's been wasting all of her time during this merger with a boy, falling in love when she should have been by her father's side, believing in the extraordinary even if the extraordinary doesn't exist.
"Thanks, Cloud. I understand that. I really do." She glances around him, seeing there are not many heckling Rufus. In fact, most of the employees are in their cups or their hors d'oeuvres, laughing and smiling. "But right now, I have to talk to Rufus."
She goes to move around him, but Cloud blocks her path.
"Tifa—"
She frowns at him. "Cloud, what are you…"
He hesitates, and the uncertainty is back in his eyes. Tifa had thought the anxiety was gone, the curl of it dispersing after cleaning her hand in the bathroom. But at his look, it's back. It hits her with a deeper, closer intimacy than before.
"Sorry," he says, stepping to the side. He grimaces and averts his eyes. "Go ahead."
Tifa gazes at him for a moment, then she steps forward and walks into the flawless palm of the room.
When she walks closer to Rufus, he notices her quickly. He looks up to smile at her, his eyes hovering over her lines. Any other time, she might feel uncomfortable, but his opinion over her attire is the last thing on her mind.
"Mr. Shinra," she says. "I'd like to speak with you."
"Oh, Ms. Lockhart. You look as beautiful as ever," he says, smirking. "I admit, I've been thinking about what you were going to wear, tonight. It's much more gorgeous than I was expecting." His eyes roam over her, and Tifa maintains a staid smile.
"Thank you," she says. "I was hoping I would be able to talk to you about suggesting an individual for clinical trials."
Rufus raises his eyebrows. "Which individual?"
Tifa swallows. "My father."
Rufus doesn't react like she thinks he should. His eyes don't widen. His lips don't frown. He merely looks at her. Then, his eyes glance off to the side and recognition passes over him.
"Oh, I see," he says, bringing a hand up to his hair. To Tifa's surprise, he begins laughing. Shaking his head, he says, "Gaia, he didn't tell you, did he?"
A flutter of ice hits her neck. "What?"
"Hopeless," Rufus sighs. "I knew Strife was a goddamn idiot, but I didn't know the extent." He reaches forward and gently takes Tifa's hand in both of his own. "Tifa. May I call you Tifa?" he asks, but he doesn't wait for her to respond. "Your father—"
"Tifa," another voice interrupts. Tifa startles, looking up to her right to see Cloud making his way to them. His eyes catch on Rufus' hands around her own, and his jaw is already clenched. "I told you I'd explain after the announcement. Let me," he says, directing his last words to Rufus.
Rufus smirks. "I can still hold her hand, can't I?"
Annoyed and impatient, Tifa snatches her hand out from his. She gives him a glare, then she turns it on Cloud. She is abruptly angry at both of them—at Rufus, for being so blatantly flirtatious and smug and acting like he can touch her however he wants, and Cloud, for looking hesitant and hiding from her even now. The hesitancy in his eyes pokes at her like a cattle prod, and there is something else there, too. Sympathy. Regret.
"What about my father?" she asks, feeling the emotions climb up her throat like a ladder.
"Tifa…" Cloud says, hesitating once more before he continues. "I…I went to the materia plant this week, but I also went to Nibelheim."
Tifa blinks at the admission. Her anger bleaches out of her, shock taking its place. "You did?"
Cloud's face hardens. "I went to see your father. I wanted him to know about the trial—"
A fist clenches in Tifa's stomach.
"You…" she tries.
"I couldn't tell you, and I'm sorry," he says, quickly. "I should have told you before I went. I should have let you know, but I knew how much it weighed on you, and I…I was afraid. I was afraid to tell you. I had to abide by the contract, but..." He glances away toward the floor, but Tifa's eyes are unfocusing. "That shouldn't have mattered. It was stupid of me."
Rufus shifts, crossing his arms. "Here I thought you'd actually be smart about this one, Strife."
Tifa stares blankly at Cloud's tie. "But my father…what happened?" She looks up and catches Cloud's eyes. "What did he do? What did he say?"
At the look on Cloud's face, Tifa knows immediately. A gut reaction. The anxiety. The finger on her spine.
Intuition, her mother used to say. It's inside all of us. It's our superpower. Tifa can see her mother's smile. She can feel her mother's finger tapping her sternum. You'll understand when you're older, sweetie.
Why is she thinking about her now? she wonders absently, amidst all the spinning thoughts. Why now? Her mother who is dead and gone and buried underneath the sediment and rocks of the earth. Far away.
So very far away.
"He said no," Tifa whispers. She had known it instinctively, that intuition prickling through her. Even when she began to hope, she had known. Even with a miracle found in the underbelly of the earth, a magic spell, a flick of a witch's nose, a fragment from a shooting star. Her father was never going to say yes. He was never going to allow himself to live.
Maybe life will begin to fulfill your dreams instead of breaking them.
It's silly to think about that, now. Silly to think she still had that kind of hope when everything inside of her told her otherwise.
She feels the emotions swirling against her. She's neglected her father. How could she do that? How could she continue on with her life when his was ticking away so feverishly? When she knew any day, at any moment, at any second, she could receive the phone call that would fill the cup of her despair, and bloom the flower of her fears?
She stares at Cloud. He had asked her to trust him, and she does, still, so completely. It doesn't matter that he didn't tell her—because he tried to protect her from disappointment and anger and sadness and all those ugly emotions. She just hadn't realized it was herself she couldn't trust, not when she had decided to spend so much time with Cloud instead of her own flesh and blood. Not when she could have worked remotely from Nibelheim—she's certain she could have asked Reeve at the beginning. He would have let her. She could have finished the projects and left early.
She could have if she really wanted to. If she wasn't so…afraid.
It isn't the length of life. It's the depth.
"I need to go home," she says, surprised when her voice doesn't waver. "I need to see him."
Cloud stares at her for a moment before nodding. "I can—"
"Mr. Shinra!"
Tifa jolts. Her fear and anger and sudden determination all coil up inside of her at the voice. Scarlet steps up to her left side, so close Tifa can smell her perfume. It is sweet and sickly, and if poison had a smell, it'd be bottled from her pores.
"Ah, Ms. Dagger. Wonderful to see you," Rufus greets, an easy smile appearing on his face. His eyes catch on her chest, lingering for a moment too long. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"
"I couldn't help but see my ex-boss standing with another esteemed employee, and I had to join in this conversation." Scarlet smiles, and all Tifa can see is the gurgling of blood around her lips, the color of her lipstick so severe and menacing. "Oh, forgive me, I've probably had too much to drink," she says, beginning to laugh. "I just…don't these two look so cute together?"
She eyeballs Cloud and Tifa, then lolls her head back to Rufus. Rufus seems to be amused, looking between all three of them.
"Scarlet…" Cloud trails, his voice low and threatening. "What do you want?"
"Oh, Mr. Strife! I was just…I mean, surely I'm not the only one to have noticed the chemistry between you two?" She turns and winks at Rufus. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think they were giving each other favors under the table. Wouldn't you say so, Mr. Shinra?"
Tifa stares at Scarlet, and her smile only seems to grow. Tifa can feel her cheeks heating up like tea kettles. One of her hands begins to tighten in a fist along her side.
Rufus laughs loudly. "Oh, I'm sure Mr. Strife wouldn't mind that." Rufus smiles at Cloud's reddening face. "But I'm afraid he's already disclosed all pertinent information to me."
One of Scarlet's brows raise. The arch of it is so steep, it reminds Tifa of Mt. Nibel's peak. "Oh, all pertinent information, has he?"
"All information that he deemed to tell me, yes," Rufus says, daring to give her a salacious smirk.
Tifa's heart pounds harder and harder. She continues staring at that one eyebrow, Scarlet's side profile encompassing Tifa's entire view.
Scarlet turns and locks eyes with Tifa. Her lips twist, and she doesn't look away when she says, "Well, I can tell you that I've seen Ms. Lockhart leave Mr. Strife's office rumpled and breathless. Multiple times, in fact." She grins. "I don't want to be so crude as to say they've been fucking each other, but if you ask security about a couple having sex in an elevator this past month, I think you'd know I was telling the truth."
A hum courses over Tifa's skin at the words. Scarlet stares at her, her teeth white and sharp and victorious. They shine under the chandeliers like the sun reflecting off a mirror. Tifa wants to wince and look away, but she'd rather be blinded, because she knows—as childish as it is, she knows—if she looks away, it'll all be over. Scarlet will win and laugh a braying, screeching laugh.
Just the thought of it makes Tifa's heart feel like a ticking bomb, the fuse licked with fire, waiting and waiting for the trigger.
Because her father refused treatment. He refused it, and isn't he so selfish? Tifa has been wasting time with Cloud, away from him and his cancer, and that makes her just as selfish as her father.
Her mother tapped her chest tonight, reminding her of her lingering wisdom, her smile and strength. The parts of her mother that remain inside of her, no matter how far away she is.
She thinks about the glass breaking in her hand, and how she still can't feel the cuts along the creases of her fingers.
She thinks about Cure and how it might work, but how it doesn't even fucking matter.
"Ah…really?" Rufus drawls. His tone sounds intrigued and enlightened, but Tifa doesn't care about him. She doesn't care about the other employees. She doesn't even care that Cloud is somewhere behind her.
All she can see is Scarlet's red lips and her black lined eyes and her overarching eyebrows, and she is angry. She is so angry about this entire evening, because how could the world dangle so much hope and snatch it away so quickly without one remorseful blink?
"Once a whore…" Scarlet says.
The fuse lights. Tifa raises her cut hand, palm open, and she swings it around. It slams into Scarlet's cheek with a resounding smack.
Scarlet loses her balance, forced to take a few steps to regain her composure. Her mouth is open in a static gasp, her hand coming up to her swelling, darkened pink cheek. Tifa spies a few smudges of red, and it must be blood, but she doesn't know if it's Scarlet's or her own. Scarlet whips her head up, her eyes bulbous and stunned.
"I'm sick of you harassing me. And I'm sick of tonight. I'm sick of all of this," Tifa breathes, the words scraping against her throat. She turns her head to Rufus, who is looking at her how he should have looked at her earlier. His eyebrows are raised, his lips are parted. His bright eyes are wide in their sockets. He looks as shocked as she's ever seen him, and in hindsight, probably more shocked than he's ever allowed himself to be in front of employees.
"Fire me if you want," she says. "I need to go home."
She turns on her heel, blinded by sudden, immediate, abrupt purpose. Her hand is already plunging into her thin purse, her strides moving through the room and side stepping the drunken crowd.
A hand lands on her shoulder, stopping her.
"Tifa," Cloud says, his voice strained. "Wait, you—"
Tifa startles, turning to face him. "Cloud, I'm sorry, I need to—"
"Go home. I know," he says, and his face is hardened. "I can drive you."
Tifa opens her mouth. "Drive? No. I'm…I'm going to take the train."
His eyebrows pinch. "But—"
"Listen, Cloud, you've done enough," she says, and it surprises her. It almost sounds like she snaps. She glances away from him, unable to take the widening of his eyes. Her emotions are bleeding into everything and everyone. "Thank you for trying. Thank you for giving my father that chance, but now…" she shakes her head, turning away from him again. "I have to do this on my own. I have to be alone."
"I…yeah," he says. "Okay. If…I'll be here if you need anything."
She glances over her shoulder at him. The shine of the lights hits his face, and it is golden and sad and regretful and full of hope. Always the hope, she thinks. And she hopes it stays.
"Okay," she says, and she turns, making it to the entrance while tapping her dad's number on her phone. She places it against her ear, needing more than anything else to hear his voice.
It rings. It rings and rings.
When it stops ringing and goes to voicemail, Tifa's eyes begin to fog with tears. Her dad always picks up. Why tonight, of all nights, is he not?
The dark pinch of intuition flutters around her like a shawl. She leaves a clipped message at the prompt for the voicemail.
"Hey dad. It's me. Call me back."
She calls again and again.
Her dad never picks up.