A/N: This is for Day 1 of Seventh Heaven Week 2021 for the prompt: Please Don't Go. Enjoy!
Before You Go
Tifa wasn't sure what to call that feeling in her chest. It sure was warm, like the sun on her skin during a wintery day. Sometimes, the feeling spread through her stomach, causing it to somersault, backflip and the whole nine yards. These feelings seemed to make their arrival every time she thought of her neighbour. Though she had no desire to place a name to it, at least she was well aware they only ever came when he was around or when he drifted into her daydreams –uninvited, but wholeheartedly welcomed.
Maybe she did have a slight crush on the person her father called 'that Strife boy'. But she didn't know what the heck a crush was supposed to feel like. Fairy tale stories about love gave her some kind of guideline. Yet, she was doubtful of her own feelings. Whatever she was going through seemed like a pale comparison to the extremities of love.
It's not like she had anybody to ask. If she told Yuria that she was feeling weird in her stomach, she would've told her she was sick. If she denied the sickness, then maybe her friend would tease her about crushes. Knowing Yuria, she'd pry out the guy's name from Tifa's mouth, only for her to cry out in disgust. Oh boy, Tifa knew how to imagine the worst of it all before it would happen. (Most times, they didn't.)
"Hey, you listening Teef?"
Sergeal's obnoxious face came in her view, a nostril hair sticking out like it came from a cave. Tifa had to stop herself from stepping back and appearing rude.
"Yeah, that's really cool!"
"What are you talking about? Really cool? That weirdo is going to be riding with us, for five hours straight!"
Weirdo?
"I swear if he tries to mess with me with me I'm going to throw him off the truck!" Sergeal's bravado was exaggerated everyday, especially when he puffed out his chest and made baseless claims.
Who was he talking about? Contemplation had stolen Tifa from the present moment while Sergeal's words brought her back to their walk.
"I can't stand the way he looks at you. It's like he's waiting to steal you from us or something."
"What?" Tifa frowned. "Who are you talking about?"
"That creepy Cloud Strife, obviously."
His name stirred those feelings again. She bit her lip, trying to focus on Sergeal's indignant expression. However, he was starting to piss her off. Cloud a weirdo? No way. Creepy? Absolutely not. Cloud stealing Tifa away from her friends? Actually, that didn't sound too bad.
Tifa folded her arms, with a half smile like a ghoul on her lips. "You don't even know why he's going to Midgar. It's actually pretty cool."
"You're lying Teef!"
"Am not." Her half smile slipped into a crescent moon grin. "Cloud is actually going to become a SOLDIER." The end of her sentence trailed in a singsong manner.
Sergeal's jaw dropped. He started to laugh. "As if."
"Maybe you shouldn't be talking so bad about him. You don't even know him."
"Oh, and you do?"
His words had a bite that froze her in place. God, the truth was pretty ugly when other people said it. She'd spent days mulling over in her head what could've been versus what actually was. Perhaps, she didn't know Cloud and he was just some boy who lived next door. No, that couldn't be it. If anything, her limited knowledge of Cloud left her craving more of him. More time, more stolen moments.
She longed to see who he truly was beyond the shy yet surprisingly sweet exterior.
Sergeal let out a scoff. "We'll all be leaving for Midgar on Saturday, so you won't get to know that Cloud guy anyways." He stuck out a thumb. "You should come see Lyle and I before we go off!"
What! Cloud's leaving this week? Tifa suddenly felt her stomach drop, and her chest tighten. Why hadn't he told her? Granted, they haven't talked much these past couple months. Their exchange of words was limited to "Hi" "What's up." "Nothing much! You?" "Fine. See you around." Pretty lame, but better than nothing, right?
As Sergeal kept chatting off her ear, the sinking of her heart kept Tifa in a confused trance.
How could Cloud not tell her?
Why did she have to find out through Sergeal out of all people?
Did Cloud not care about her?
Did he forget his promise?
Maybe she didn't really know Cloud after all–or well enough to be told such crucial news. Her time with him was running out. Its grains were slipping through her fingers faster than ocean waves crashing on the shoreline. The confirmation of it threatened to drown her.
Hurt was a word she knew to describe her feelings in this moment.
Lying on his desk was a trembling flap from an envelope hastily ripped. Gushes of wind from his window pushed it to the corner. Beside it laid a sheet of paper, riddled with crinkles and flattened out creases.
Dear Cloud Strife,
Congratulations on your acceptance into Shinra's…
Blah, blah, blah. Paragraphs of congratulatory text didn't have the same affect on him anymore. The excitement that should've bumbled up in his throat disappeared after he read the last paragraph. The fist that punched the air and little scream of joy had long since faltered.
You are scheduled to depart Nibelheim on .XXX at 7:00 on the X105-Pick up Truck.
That was this upcoming Saturday. Today was Thursday. He opened the envelope last Sunday. Everyday he reread the letter, hoping that by the last paragraph the letters would rearrange itself to say his departure was later.
That never happened.
As he rested on his bed, arms behind his head, Cloud's sulk worsened.
"Tifa," he said aloud in his empty room. Her name imprinted the walls. "Tifa," he repeated, his voice a rasp. When he leaves for Midgar, he'd lose all the chances to say her name again. No more moments of her turning around with a curious gaze and an inviting smile.
The day he found out his departure date, he swore to himself that he'd tell Tifa sooner than later. That also never happened, because he was busy thinking of how to tell her. Consequently, wasting time.
Therefore, his first attempt was at the local bakery later that Thursday. Three full loaves of bread were in his arms, the scent of it invading his nose, causing his stomach to grumble. When the jingle of the wind chimes sounded, Tifa walked through the door greeting Baker Jan with her usual cheerful disposition.
Now was the chance, he thought. Then if he succeeded in telling her, he hoped Tifa would ask him to go out… oh, what was he thinking? There was less than two days before departure.
"Hi, Tifa." Cloud's voice was barely audible. He repeated his greeting, louder this time.
She was peering over the glass at the egg tarts, using her fingers to count how many she wanted. "Hm? Oh, Cloud it's you! I didn't see you. The bread's covering your face."
Embarrassed, he split the loaves, jutting out his head like a pet turtle.
Covering her giggling mouth, she said, "There's a couple of baskets in the corner to help you carry those y'know."
"Don't need it." He straightened his back and adjusted the loaves in his arm. Be cool, Cloud. One edge of his lip rose. "Pretty light if you ask me."
Tifa's eyes widened, glowing in playfulness. She pointed a finger at Cloud. "Well, it is bread."
"Uh-y-yeah," he stammered, not expecting that. Duh, bread was light, carrying three loaves wasn't impressive. That didn't showcase any sort of strength. He'd have to tell her that he was going to use all his strength and courage to make it into SOLDIER. Inevitably, he would have to let her know when he's leaving too. Cloud gulped.
"I'll have five tarts." Tifa counted her change then handed it over to the cashier. She leaned in to Baker Jan and whispered hurriedly, glancing at Cloud sideways.
There it was again. Cloud was feeling like an outsider, shrinking like he wasn't even there. He knew it wasn't Tifa's fault. However, it always seemed he was prone to being left out–not exactly belonging anywhere. To distract himself from his thoughts of being a loser, he practiced in his head what he would say to her. Maybe they could meet at the water tower again…without getting scolded.
The bell chimes rang again. Yuria popped her head in, her blown out bangs clipped to the side. "Tifa! Hurry up! We're all waiting!"
Tifa jumped. "Okay, okay! I'll be out in a minute." She took her change and her paper bag. As she walked past Cloud, she stopped in her steps. Her beaming face made his heart skip a beat. "See you around. It was nice bumping into you."
"Yeah. You too." His palms were sweating, he was afraid it'd seep through the paper bag. He internally begged himself to say something else to her. But his mouth was too unwilling. For a moment, he wished he were telepathic. Meet me at our spot again, Tifa. I have something important to tell you. Wait…our spot?
The chimes dangling at the door jingled. Before he could think of anything to say, Tifa was out of sight, only leaving behind her lavender scent. Cloud groaned. His mouth twisted into a frown as he slapped his gil on the counter, ignoring Baker Jan's greetings. He placed the bread in a delicate matter on the counter then proceeded to glare at his shoes. Idiot.
When Cloud went home that day, he unloaded the three loaves of bread from the bag onto the kitchen table. What came next was a pleasant surprise that made his lips quirk upwards.
A single egg tart, bright and yellow, was left in the bag.
"Tifa, how much did you pay for the tarts?" Yuria asked, taking a big bite of hers. The rest of their group, Lyle, Sergeal, and Zion were hanging out in the field outside of their school, where the grass was still damp from the spring sky.
"Twelve gil." Tifa responded, stifling the annoyance in her tone with a warm smile. There were a couple reasons why she was irritated. Her friends were a little too impatient and because of that her conversation with Cloud was cut short. She could add on that Lyle ate with his mouth open, but she didn't critique people's eating habits.
"You sure that hag didn't overcharge you?" Lyle had a crumb in the corner of his mouth. Tifa wanted to flick it off so badly.
"Don't call her that. And I'm sure of it."
"It doesn't even matter, Tifa's dad is the Village Chief. He'd probably whoop her ass if she overcharged her."
"Shut up, Zion." Yuria pointed at Sergeal's tart. "If you're not going to eat that, I will."
"Hell nah, Tifa bought this for us." He sunk his teeth into the gooey yellowness, slobbering it up like it was his last meal on Earth.
When Tifa saw Cloud at the bakery, she was so excited that she completely forgot about his departure. She'd been enthralled with the fact that she was able to be alone with him. It felt like it had been a long time since they made that promise at the watermill. He never made reference to it after that. In the little moments where they'd catch each other's glances, she didn't see a flicker of recognition of it there. But that was okay, at least he still acknowledged her. She thought buying him an egg tart would encourage him to tell her about his departure. Tifa hoped she made him smile.
"Yo, check this out." Zion fumbled with an item from the back of his jean pocket. He opened his palm. In it, was silver lighter with an intricate design.
The rest of the group appeared unimpressed.
"This ain't the only thing here." He procured another item from inside his jacket.
"No way!" Sergeal said, moving to Zion, reaching for what was in his hands.
"Where the hell did you get that?" Yuria swallowed the rest of her egg tart.
Tifa, puzzled, took a better look as the rest of her friends surrounded Zion, 'oohing' and 'ahing' as if he captured a golden Chocobo egg. She gasped when she realized what was in his grasp. A pack of cigarettes. It had never been opened. Glancing over her shoulders in paranoia, she went closer to the group, hoping that their huddle covered Zion's cigarettes. No one over the age of eighteen was allowed to smoke. Even then, cigarettes were reserved for old cowboys at the stables, not kids like them.
"Stole 'em from my big bro. Thought we'd try it for fun."
"I don't think that's a good idea, Zion," Tifa said, folding her arms. "What if someone catches us? We're right in front of the school."
Lyle and Sergeal exchanged annoyed glances. But Sergeal's annoyed face changed when he met Tifa's eyes. "Tifa, it's not a school day, plus there's nobody around."
Yuria wrapped her arms around her shoulders then. "Besides, no one's going to find out."
Her heart was beating fast. She sighed, "Okay fine."
The boys cheered and Yuria ruffled Tifa's hair.
Zion unwrapped the cigarette pack. Using his index and thumb he carefully extracted a single cigarette out from its confines, an artifact they weren't supposed to touch. He held it amidst his middle and index, smirking coolly. "Alright, who's taking the first puff?"
"Me! Me!" Sergeal and Lyle chanted.
Yuria scoffed. "Why don't you show us how it's done, Zion?"
Tifa's skin started to prick, sweat pooled at the back of her neck. She hoped her friends wouldn't make her take a hit. The cigarette seemed more like a detriment than something that would grant them access to teenage coolness. Then again, they weren't exactly kids anymore, despite what the adults said. This was teenage boredom at its finest, and she didn't want any part of it.
With no effort needed, Zion pressed down on the lighter with the cigarette already in his mouth. He poured the flame over its end, taking in a deep inhale. Wisps of smoke danced into the air, wrapping around their heads.
Tifa wrinkled her nose, watching Zion's moment of surprise turn into confidence. He must've practiced this before, she thought. Zion looked strange, he was only a year older but he had gangly arms and legs, and three chin hairs. It was as though Gaia forgot to transform him into a grownup half way through.
They were all starting to look different, similar to the older kids. They even stopped using the word 'play', replacing it with 'hanging out' instead. Guess, they were getting older, with the exception of Tifa being held back by childhood.
"You're next, Tifa," Zion said, shoving the cigarette into her face. "Since you were complaining so much."
Oh no, I don't want an indirect kiss. And I don't wanna get in trouble!
Sergeal piped in. "I'm after Tifa!"
Zion handed her the cigarette. Tifa hesitated, Yuria nodded at her. The faster she did this, the faster she'll get it over with. As she placed the cigarette between her lips, her friends observed her like she was a specimen under a magnifying glass. She was the test subject, her friends the scientists.
He flicked the lighter, its open flame caught onto the cigarette. Zion told her to inhale, and so she did. Smoke spreading into whispers, perforating her hair. She inhaled needles that scratched her throat, forcing her to recover through loud coughs. Her friends stepped back. Her chest constricted, the insides of her throat clogged up, tears welling in her eyes. Each cough made her think she was going to choke or spit her teeth out.
"Get her water!" Yuria yelled. Sergeal grabbed a bottle from his knapsack, shoving it into Tifa's hands. She took a sip, wanting the painful feeling in her throat to disappear. It was then, after the water swooshed off the scratching, she decided she'd hate cigarettes for the rest of her life.
"You okay?" Sergeal asked her.
She nodded, even though she was far from it.
"Man, she got the cigarette all soggy."
"Lyle, shut up," Yuria said, dragging Tifa from their circle and further down the field. She followed along idly, brain in a fog of disbelief and shame.
Once they were both alone, Yuria started, "Those guys are such idiots."
Tifa shrugged.
"Bet they wanted your saliva on the cig."
"Ew, that's so gross Yuria."
"Kidding." She chuckled. "They're leaving for Midgar, Saturday morning. I'm sure you've heard right?"
Tifa mentioned that Sergeal informed her the day they received the letters. But she didn't mention the fact that Cloud never told her he was leaving soon too, not that it mattered at this point.
"Cloud tell you anything?"
She was so taken aback by the question. Tifa thought she was hearing things.
"Thought so. I had a feeling. Did you buy an eggtart for him?
"How'd you know that?"
"Quick maths. You said you paid twelve gil for five, but that's the price for six."
Tifa reddened.
"You got a crush on him? I see the way you keep staring at him."
"It's not like that!"
"Sure it is. He was probably gonna tell you at the bakery."
"Then why'd you tell me to hurry up?"
"Hey don't blame me. Maybe you should ask him to go to the dance tomorrow."
A month prior, the town advertised a spring dance as a farewell for those who were off to a new start–elsewhere, far from Nibelheim. Tifa's father suggested that she go. When she brought it up to her friends, they labeled it as lame. However, as the days closed in on their shared youth, their decision to attend changed.
Tifa shook her head, watching Zion stub the cigarette on the ground. He grabbed another from the pack as the rest of them coughed. She tried to imagine Cloud with them, but he didn't fit into the picture.
"There's no way Cloud would attend," she sighed.
Cloud fingered the silver tinfoil in his hand, its grooves bumpy as it twirled over his finger. It was hollowed out from the single egg tart that had turned into a symbol of kindness. He was a lovesick fool, to collect stuff meant to be thrown out and never reused. Despite that, he kept a small collection of useless items in the corner of his closet. One could call it an obsession, or perhaps it was a crush that had gone past it's expiry date. It was the little things, like the Chocobo bandaid she'd given him when he scraped his knees or the piece of paper that had her name on it, all a good reminder that there was some kindness for him in Nibelheim.
His mother was surprised that he'd clean the tin quite thoroughly. It has been one of the few times he'd wash the dishes instead of retreating to his room after dinner.
The sun was setting over their town. Cloud knew once it sunk, he'd have less than twenty-four hours until he left Nibelheim and Tifa behind. After tucking the tin in his special hiding place, he went outside to breathe in the cool air, a push to be confident–a bit daring. During these hours, Tifa would be returning home for dinner after a day of hanging out with her friends.
He was observant, aware that Tifa tended to go home first. So he waited idly by the post office that diverged into the town's stores. He'd brought a disposable camera with him –one without film. He needed to give the false appearance of doing something, anything really. As long as it didn't seem obvious that he was waiting for Tifa. Yet, it seemed like the trees and sky already knew. The cat that strolled by meowed at him, as if saying I know too.
When he was leaving the bakery, he'd seen the group scurry off into their lame rendezvous spot. There were times he imagined himself with them, partaking in their lame conversations, their even lamer games. Sometimes he'd picture himself laughing at their jokes, with Tifa beside him. If he was able to time travel back, Tifa and him would've grown closer, gradually falling for each other. Begin as real friends, rather than whatever distant acquaintanceship they had going on.
Cloud lifted the camera to his eye. He put into frame the spider webs that lay between the beams. Then he shifted his view downwards, to the lone lily that sprouted from the cracked gravel. Its petals were soft, curling nicely.
While he raised the camera higher, the girl he was waiting for crept into the shot. Her hair a dark shadow against a town that was bathed in browns and vague touches of colour. He shoved the camera in his pocket, as if caught in the act.
Cloud and Tifa's eyes met. He thought he saw a brief shimmer of pain in them, but surely her usual cheerfulness erased that idea.
"Taking pictures?" She crossed her feet together, hands behind her back.
"Uh yeah." He scratched the back of his head, curious if she would find out he was a fraud.
"Let me take some for you!"
He should've said there wasn't any film. Should've told her that he used the last shot on her. He wished he did have film so he wouldn't rely on memory when it came to seeing her face in the training corps. Instead, he handed her the camera, exposure of the truth ready to shimmy it's way in.
Their hands touched. He could've sworn his fingertips went numb.
She put the camera over an eye.
What do you see Tifa? He hoped she saw a hero that could someday save her. I'll get stronger.
Tifa pointed it at Cloud, smiling at whatever she saw in that tiny frame. He noticed a hint of forlorn sadness in her voice when she asked him to smile. He couldn't, it was hard to.
"Everything okay, Tifa?"
She put the camera down. Staring at her toes, she asked, "Why don't we take a picture with each other?"
Cloud blushed. He wanted so badly to refuse. "Sure."
Tifa looked up at him in surprise.
A picture of them two together. This was a dream he hadn't ever thought of.
This was how he'd remember her by. Yet, how could he ever forget about her? I want to be noticed. I want you to really see me. She encompassed so much to him. He should be ready to tell her that he was leaving. If she meant so much to him, then he should be brave enough to express it, give her the heads up of his departure. He had rehearsed the words in front of the mirror, so many times, like it was a dreaded school presentation. His voice fell flat when he spoke to his reflection.
Tifa, I'm leaving for Midgar. On Saturday morning.
Then how was she supposed to react? What the hell was he expecting? That kept him stumbling with the courage to tell her.
"Step out the shadows Cloud. Come into the light so we can take it."
As he came forward, he shoved his shaking hands into his pockets, pants sagging.
Tifa held onto the camera, knuckles turning white. No pockets in her dress for her to hide. She kept licking her lips. Cloud noticed her nervousness. It was displayed incredibly, like a messy art piece not meant for anyone to see.
Once he was beside her, he expected the lavender scent of her hair to swathe him into confessing. Instead, she reeked of cigarettes and lost dreams. Without thinking, he covered his nose. Then the camera landed on the ground with a thud.
Tifa's lips began to tremble. She bit them down. Clutching onto her hair, she whispered, "I'm sorry. It's not really. It's not me. I–only did it because–"
Cloud lowered his gaze to her fiddling thumbs. He clenched his fists, wanting nothing more than to hold her hand.
"I know already. It's so stupid of me. I shouldn't. I wish…"
"Tifa stop." His voice was too low.
"Please don't judge me."
His breath hitched in his throat. He was unsure if those words were truly for him or if they were for herself. He sensed her self-shame, its scent plaguing her from realizing that people can make mistakes too. If Cloud were brave, he'd pull her into an embrace and tell her everything was alright. Gritting his teeth, he thought of how he wanted to take Tifa away from her pressuring friends. It's always been like that hasn't it?
"Tifa, you don't have to force yourself."
"What do you mean? I'm the one who did it."
"No. You don't have to do things you don't wanna do." He continued, "If it feels wrong, don't do it."
She frowned, shaking her head slightly. "Then what about you, Cloud? Do you really want to become a soldier? Does it feel wrong to you? Or does it feel right?"
"I know I have to."
"You're going to be far away, and it's going to be hard..."
"That's why I'm going to try my best. I'm going to be strong like Sephiroth." Cloud shifted closer, mustering the remainder of his courage. "I need to tell you something, Tifa."
"Cloud, don't."
"What?"
"I have to go. It's getting late."
"But Tifa!"
"I'm sorry." She grabbed the camera from the ground, shoved it in his palms. "Also, I think you ran out of film by the way." A smile marred her features. "I'll see you around."
Tifa ran off, waving at him. Cloud had no words left to say. Doubt kept crossing his mind. She must've already known. If this were the last time he saw her, he'd be damned.
Tifa knew Cloud was going to tell her. She didn't let him. She couldn't. Because once the words left his mouth, it'd make his leaving more permanent in her mind.
Loosened light bulbs dangled from the wooden ceiling, illuminating the indoor building of Town Square in almost a mythical sense. The chandelier was its fountain, spilling light from it's blackened iron curves.
Every pluck of the banjo's strings rang throughout the space. Fiddles and cellos sang in riddles weaving into the soothing, husky voice of a woman. Her cowgirl hat tilted to the side. The singer tapped her feet along to the beat as the children, fathers, mothers, and the older teens danced and stomped, booted heels digging into plywood.
Tifa nodded to the melody, mouthing the words to herself.
Left her there back in the mountains, to see the world, riches to gain, oh when I returned no earthly treasures could ease this heart so full of pain.
A tune reserved for lovers who were separating for the time being. Temporary transformed into forever.
Tonight Tifa wore a bittersweet smile with a twinkle in her eyes. Carefully chosen was her dress, a pretty teal she'd worn the night her skin turned to gooseflesh. Their promise that night was forged into the stars. She thought that if she wore the same dress tonight, she'd be able to summon Cloud from his hiding, to be with her one last time.
The night was wearing on. Her male friends pigged out at the table of refreshments while Yuria danced with her little siblings, their limbs caught in a blur. The cranberry juice in Tifa's hand was getting warm. She scanned the crowd, looking for Cloud's messy head of hair. When she saw nothing, disappointment crept up on her. Searching every couple minutes drained her of hope.
She rose the paper cup to her mouth, gulping down the liquid to cool down her nerves. It's okay, Tifa. If you don't see him tonight, forget about the promise. She was turning fourteen next month anyways. She'd have to abandon little girl dreams.
"Tifa!"
Yuria had flushed cheeks and was holding a cup of water. "Why aren't you dancing?"
"Don't feel like it."
She rolled her eyes. "You're humming along and bouncing your head."
Tifa shrugged. She wanted to dance, she really did. Yet her joints were stiff, and one step onto the dance floor would've deterred her from her Cloud-lookout.
"It's okay."
Yuria asked if it was the music. Tifa shook her head. Her friend went on to talk about how fun it was to dance, and how she was going to miss their guy friends. Tifa hadn't thought of that much, she was ready for them to leave her behind. Earlier on, before sunset, the five of them hung out at her place, making wishes upon candles as they blew out sparklers atop a cake Tifa baked. She liked the candle smoke better than the cigarettes. This was their goodbye. They'd all accepted it. When Tifa almost cried into her slice, it was Cloud who appeared in her mind. Not the days full of laughter with her friends, but the days she didn't spend with him.
As this was happening, Cloud stood outside the doors. Light streamed through its cracks. The curving lines in the wooden door were daunting. Music he pretended not to like came in muffled vibrations from the half open windows. There was a white cat lingering beside the pillars, licking its paws or the wounds that weren't there. "Hey," he muttered to it, clasping the door handles. "Wish me good luck, kitty."
Its meow beckoned him forward. When the door opened, he was met with the swarm of steam rising from everyone's dancing bodies. The burst of country songs made his heart want to swim in its tide.
Brian Lockhart wasn't there. That was a small relief. His glares scared Cloud, but not enough for him to stay far from Tifa forever. Such luck to have the village's Chief dislike you because of an attempt to play hero to his daughter years ago. The goons of Nibelheim (Sergeal, Zion, and Lyle) were hovering over the snack table, moving towards the backdoor–the shine of a flask flashed in Zion's pocket. They were to be gone soon. Yuria's 700 siblings (actually there were only seven) danced their square dance, adults and bigger kids around them were careful not to step on their toes.
Cloud walked onwards. Suddenly self-conscious from everyone else's attire. Men and boys wore their best leather vests with fringes hanging off its hems, while the women and girls had on their prettiest dresses. He didn't stand out with his plain out-of-dress code clothes, another being to be ignored.
He looked around, catching the laughter from fellow villagers. Some were nameless to him, shadows in his head, the ones whose gazes he avoided–imaginary voices mocking him for his dirty boots, and the scratches he got from boys who'd rather he not exist. His mom didn't want him going to this dance; afraid he'd get bruised up right before he met his chosen fate with Shinra. To her luck, nobody paid attention to him. They were caught in their carefree jam. Cloud wanted to have fun too. His thumbs tapped at his thighs as he wandered through Town Square. Tifa must've been dancing somewhere.
As the couples parted, he finally saw her, a startling dot of teal far from the crowd striking him amidst bronzy Western décor.
Tifa stood all alone, bobbing her head, watching every villager dance. It troubled him seeing her all by herself. She was usually accompanied. He'd expected her to be the star in the crowd, shining her bright light to everybody who danced with her. Tifa's smile was slight.
Every step he took towards her heightened the music in his ears. Recognition of that teal dress made his heartstrings pluck quicker than the melodies streaming forth. Once he was next to her, he cleared his throat.
"Yuria, I told you I don't wanna dance."
"It's me. Cloud."
"Cloud?" Her eyes widened at the sight of him. The boy she'd been waiting for all evening was in front of her. She could hardly believe it, Tifa wanted to tug his ponytail to see if he was real. The whiff of his outdoorsy scent overtook the sweaty smell of the atmosphere. Her cheeks dusted pink, recalling that she drenched her hair in shampoo before the dance.
Cloud wondered if the drink in her grasp was spiked because her blush was so sweet, he had to avert his gaze. "Yeah, it's me."
"Uh..." She settled her cup behind her, brushing her palms on her dress. Tifa wasn't sure what to say. "You came, Cloud."
"Was I not supposed to?"
"Well, I just thought that this stuff wasn't really your thing."
He shrugged. "Still isn't."
"I see."
Over on the dance floor, Yuria waved her arms in the air, laughing at an older boy whose goatee was not fully grown. Her siblings danced around her, spinning about. The band kept playing at a fast pace, encouraging the crowd to let loose. Cloud imagined Tifa there, twirling with Yuria, hands clasped with hers. "Thought you'd be dancing," he commented.
"I'm not a good dancer." That was an obvious lie. It'd take her a whole pie to admit that during the weeks leading up to this dance, she danced to her reflection, envisioning Cloud holding her.
"Doubt that. You gotta be better than Yuria, she looks like she's trying to cast a spell."
At that Tifa laughed, eliciting a small smile from Cloud.
"You haven't told me why you're here, future soldier boy."
He enjoyed when she teased him, especially in those rare moments they shared, however, the mention of 'soldier' made him gulp, her innocent tease seemingly a jab to his conscience. Should've told her. Could've. He had six whole days. He wasted it. It felt too late to tell her now.
Cloud answered, "Needed to see someone. Pretty badly actually."
Tifa placed her palms on the table behind her, leaning against it. There was a lift in her grin. "That person sure is lucky."
"Guess so."
"Hey Cloud…I'm sorry about yesterday."
"There's nothing to be sorry for."
"I didn't want you seeing me like that. I didn't mean to run away."
"Don't worry, Tifa. I know."
The boys came back into the space, about to bustle onto the dance floor. Zion's pockets appeared empty, while the rest of them chuckled, flushed to the neck. The singer was speaking to the crowd, magnetic in her charisma as she described the next song their band was going to play. It was a song that many recognized. Cloud heard it on the radio many times, Tifa hummed it on her walks.
"Last night I thought about what you said. About how if something doesn't feel right, don't do it. I think I do a ton of things that don't feel right to me. But I do it because I want to make people happy. Isn't that kind of stupid?"
"No not at all. I'm sure it makes you happy making other people happy."
"But I want to be like you. You march to your own drumbeat, Cloud! It's pretty cool."
Cloud's face burned, his mouth opening to say absolutely nothing.
Tifa leaned in closer to him, giggling at the scrunch of his brows, the downward pull of his lips. "You don't force yourself to do stuff for people, unless you really want to."
If only Tifa knew the true reason why he dreamt of becoming a soldier. Everything was for her, only her. Always has been. He spent years contemplating ways to show her that he cared, that she mattered to him. Cloud wanted to be strong, wanted to be able to protect her from anything that could possibly hurt her. Be a hero, Cloud. Impress her. Make her see you for who you are: someone that could save her whenever she was in a pinch.
To be a hero, Cloud needed to be brave. He took a deep breath, "Tifa, I'm leaving soon."
"What? My favourite song started playing! You can't leave yet. You should–we should dance!" She grabbed his wrist. He stayed rooted in place. Tifa hadn't realized he meant to say something else. His troubled expression was like a wounded kitty convincing her to change her mind. Letting go, embarrassed, she said, "I can't force you. So I'll stay with you a little longer."
A crescendo of the stringed instruments fell into the air. There were chants, feet stomping. Elated dancing. Yuria glanced over at Cloud and Tifa, waving them over. Tifa's smile was so sweet, so cute, her shoulders swayed side-to-side, mouth open to sing the words that unified the town.
Cloud watched her, embracing every detail. No point in telling her he was going away when dawn hits. He needed to burn this memory of her carefree nature in his mind. He never heard her singing voice, so he paid careful attention to her melody. Her western accent slipped. The gloss on her lips shined. Eyes were brighter than the moon outside. There weren't many people he thought of as beautiful, but if he had to choose, Tifa was it.
"Tifa, you should go dance. I could tell this is what you wanna do. So don't hold yourself back."
She shook her head. Deep down, the music was pulling Tifa's limbs to dance, like spring winds rustling tree leaves. Spring was taking Cloud from her, defrosting the stillness in her feelings for him. She'd steal spring and summer from the town if that meant having a few more moments with him.
"If you're going to follow my advice, make sure that when things do feel right, you go with it. Okay, Tifa?" When his hand slipped onto her lower back, Cloud became afraid that the fabric of her dress would zap his hand into oblivion. He had no time to berate himself for having a trembling heart, or his rush of blood seeing Tifa's bony shoulder blades draped in those thin straps.
Tifa yelped, excited at the possibility that Cloud was going to dance with her. He yanked her towards the people, arm around her waist. "Go dance, Tifa!" Then he pushed her into the crowd. The throngs of people sucked her in. Yuria grabbed both her hands, spinning Tifa as she laughed, everyone's energy reverberating through her veins. Cloud should be close by.
Outside the circle, Cloud grinned, a rare sight that nobody saw.
Everyone is looking at you Tifa, admiring how much fun you're having. You're the star of Nibelheim. Always will be.
He decided then, that his last memory of Tifa would be of her dancing. In his smile was his farewell.
Searching and searching. Tifa thought she'd find him over her shoulder, reaching for her to hold him. She couldn't find Cloud, so she asked Yuria if she saw him. No. He disappeared as if he wasn't meant to stay anyways. So she tore through the crowd, mumbling her sincerest apologies. Her throat tightened, knowing that Cloud didn't grant her a chance to say goodbye.
Outside, a few stars tore through the cloudy skies at the same time. Sparking in Cloud was the desire to see the water tower again, take in its entirety so it doesn't become a blurry memory.
The mill spun gently, moonlight coming in flashes. He placed a palm on a pillar, thinking about the time he told Tifa he was going to become a soldier. He took in a deep inhale, letting cool air in, remembering her swinging legs and the cheeky smile she held for him.
The same cat from earlier meowed in the distance, following the trail leading to Cloud. Cloud bent down on his knees to cradle its ear. "Guess I gotta say goodbye to you too."
"No."
He glanced up, noting the toes that curled in seafoam coloured heels. From afar, the band's music fell onto Cloud and the girl who stood in front of him.
Tifa. Shadows played on her face, revealing her distress. Her fingers gripped the hems of her dress. With little light coming from the stars and the few house windows, her eyes shone, withholding tears.
Guilt choked him. This was not how he wanted to remember her. "Everything okay, Tifa?"
She took a step, slowly closing the space between them.
"Please, don't go."
Her echoing words disturbed the tranquil sky, shattering notions Cloud kept near. These notions were of Tifa never missing him, or longing for him. Suddenly, it felt easier to imagine her waiting for his return, sitting by the water tower with her legs getting longer, frantically rifling through newspapers to find him.
Tifa searched his face for an answer, hoping to find confirmation that he'd grow up with her in Nibelheim instead. Spring no longer having the strings to take him from her.
"I didn't feel like dancing." What a stupid thing to say. He was fully aware of that. And yet, he knew he shouldn't think her words were about him and Midgar. He wouldn't know how to act if they were. He'd be full of shit. Leaving would be more painful than it already was.
Tifa's laugh was strained and hearty, as if she couldn't believe the situation unfolding. Her laughter diminished her tears. Who was she to tell Cloud what to do? She hadn't made an effort to hang out with him those past months. Her feelings were in confusing knots. This was too much for her. She thought lead was weighing down her chest. She didn't know what to do. Tifa wanted to tell him that's not what she meant, but like her mama used to say, people were free to make their own choices even if it hurts. She dug a nail into the peeling skin of her thumb, wondering if it were best she went along with it.
"We're alone right now, Cloud." Her voice was above a whisper. "Before you go, atleast–" it rose, higher pitched, "–at least dance with me!"
She grabbed his wrists, dragging him to stand. Cloud gasped, feeling his own hands on the small of her waist. Her arms were around his neck. Lumps of dark hair pooled down her shoulders, it smelt of everything he liked about her. The kindness, the dreaminess, her sweetness all folded into one.
Their faces were inches apart, a gap that Cloud wouldn't dare close.
Tifa appeared shy under his gaze. She looked elsewhere, to the feet of the water tower. "This is something I really want to do, so please–"
He nodded with such eagerness of a child ready to do good. Damn his bashfulness, damn his beating heart. Let the stars make it disappear, just for one night.
"Yeah. I'm already here… might as well dance with you, Tifa. Plus I…I like this song."
And I like you too.
Tifa's beaming face, the warmth from her waist, made him want to erase the restraints of his giddiness and apprehension. All of this, their bodies so close, was a dream he didn't want to wake from. He'd like to stay here forever.
Then for the first time, they danced. They were unsure who started.
Nibelheim's music carried Cloud into maintaining proper, elegant footwork, surprising Tifa that he possessed such grace. When he twirled her, her dress bloomed like Cloud's conviction to protect her and Tifa's conviction to remember him always. Maybe that was all they needed.
This was one of the few times Tifa seen a hint of a smile on Cloud's lips.
As they danced underneath the water tower, fingers would intertwine, detach. They'd grasp onto arms, waists, or shoulders. Every melodic note ringing from the distance held them as one, unified the two of them as their laughter doused the wooden pillars, the waters above streamed forth. They were two youths, whose innocence had not been stolen by life's tragedies. Slates were clearer–cleaner than the feelings that threatened to burst from them. With that, a single promise–eternally marking their fates.
Soon enough, the music winded down into thank you's and speeches that Cloud and Tifa couldn't understand. Their chests rose up and down, smiles fading into the atmosphere's tentative stillness. Owls crooked atop homes. Fireflies shone in the darkness. Flapping wings and soft buzzes urged Cloud and Tifa to further seal their promise in an action that neither of them had any experience in.
"So..." Tifa began.
Cloud thought he was going to faint as she closed her eyes. Her lips were seemingly pinker than how he imagined them to be. Through clasped fingers, he sweated, melding into her warm hands. Starlight glittered her pretty face in spots. Her bangs were messy, out of place, yet perfectly in place at the same time, strands ghosting her eyelids. With bated breath, she waited listening to Cloud's quivering breathing.
"Tifa..." He leaned in, diminishing the gap between them. As he drew closer, his mind ached with panicked thoughts. However, it was Tifa's developing smile on her lips–waiting for his–that calmed it. Cloud closed his eyes about to actually kiss–
There was a barge of noise, barrels toppling over on the dirt ground. A scream, calling Tifa's name. Their hands, letting go. Both pairs of eyes fluttered open. Stepping aside, away from one another, their moment that should've been eternalized was disrupted, reality settling in as though to remind them that Cloud and Tifa's time was over. For now.
Yuria was on the dirt ground, holding a bruising knee that was about to tear and bleed. Teeth biting hard on her lower lip, she then muttered, "Crap. Sorry. Was I interrupting? Were you guys going to–"
Tifa rushed to her side. "Are you okay?!"
Cloud stared at his boots. He wanted to laugh at his timing. If he were two seconds earlier maybe he'd feel a rush to his brain.
"Yeah, who the hell leaves empty beer barrels on the side!"
Tifa stared at Cloud, praying that she was able to express her remorse. Her cheeks were still warm, heart returned to a normal beat.
"Tifa, your dad was looking for you. And the guys were too, but who cares. Chief Brian's all worried and shit. Ow, this hurts! Anyways, I sorta lied and said you needed to feed a cat. Couldn't tell him you were looking for Cloud."
Cloud's ear pricked at what Yuria confirmed.
"Yuria! Why would you say that?"
He walked over to the pair, kicking the barrel out of the way. "Guess I better get going." Cloud took a final look at Tifa. She was crouched over Yuria, engaged in a conversation he didn't need to hear. Tifa held Yuria's hand as the latter squeezed it. At his fingertips, her warmth remained.
Tifa was always so kind, so helpful. Knew how to soothe anyone. Cloud wanted to deserve her.
"Goodnight, Tifa."
He walked onwards back home. Cloud hadn't heard Tifa say, "Goodbye for now." Hadn't seen her eyes brim with tears as she watched him disappear, becoming a dark shadow in the night. The water mill kept on spinning. The moon hid behind a cloud no longer illuminating them two.
Tifa hardly slept that night. Shadows underlined her eyes, as she lay across her bed, hands folded. Open curtains revealed fading stars. Darkened purple skies encroached the sky like a bruise upon her shins. She hadn't changed from her clothes. It was as if keeping them on would rewind time back to the second their lips nearly touched.
Silent in the night, birds began to chirp signifying their wake. It was a new day. She wasn't looking forward to it for she knew when the sun fully arose, Cloud would be gone. Far off in a land glowing with sickly green mako.
Blinking, she realized that the growing pain in her chest urgently prodded her to take action. Every wound needed to be healed. Sitting up in bed, feet touching the cold floor, she knew that what she was going to do would mend lost time and future heartaches.
…
"Where's Cloud?" Tifa lost her breath. Running and running, that's all she's been doing. Today, instead of running away she was running straightforward towards her 'problems'.
The blue truck was filled with her departing friends, eyes swollen from sleep. Its engine was rumbling, ready to go. It did nothing to lessen her anxiousness as she stood near the cargo bed.
Sergeal piped up, wiping the goo from his eyes. "Tifa, you're gonna miss us that much huh?"
"Yeah, yeah. I need to find Cloud, do you know where he is?"
Lyle hummed, "Didn't show up."
"What do you mean?"
Is he staying in Nibelheim? Did he change his mind? Cold air blew her hair back.
"Check the stables," Sergeal said, defeated. "He might be there."
The vehicle started to move, dust gathering at her toes.
Tifa nodded, grinning wide. "Thank you. I'll miss you guys!"
Her friends reflected the same grin, waving their hands at Tifa, going farther into the horizon bidding farewells.
Cloud sat in the carriage, duffel bag beside him. That morning he hugged his mom hard. He let her kiss his cheeks and he didn't rub them afterwards. Stay safe and do your best. I'm proud of you , she told him. He pretended he hadn't noticed her watery eyes.
It's not like he woke up late by accident–he'd chosen to. Couldn't bear more hours with boys who'd rejected him his whole childhood. Smashing open his piggybank, he took the last of his gil, forgetting that he'd saved up for future dates. The plush seats of the Chocobo carriage provided him a luxury experience. Solitude, comfort.
Dawn approached, sun emerging towards its wake. Tifa must've been sleeping, cuddled up beside stuffed animals that protected her from nightmares. Almost–everything with her was an almost, a web of maybes that he could merely fantasize about. But once he returned as a soldier no less, he'd make sure there were no more maybes. He'll be confident, strong. Cool. Impressive. Tifa would greet him with a smile he loved. Then he'd tell the truth, they'd live happily ever after. Dreams fulfilled.
For now, he sighed contently. Excited for what's to come, boyhood abandoning him for manly heroism. He clutched his ticket to Midgar, hid it back into his pockets.
The carriage bumped along the rocky roads. Cloud felt the wind as the sun started to beat onto mother earth's surface. There was a yell of 'giddy up', and the Chocobo increased its speed, galloping to their destination.
He closed his eyes. Goodbye Nibelheim.
There was a sudden jolt, shaking the carriage. Thumping, and something latching onto a railing.
"Cloud!"
His eyes flew open.
Tifa gripped the railings, hair flying, disposing hay that lay in its strands. Her heels dug into the carriages staircase, left ankle swelling though the pain did not show on her face. Across Tifa's features, her nose tinted pink. The sunrise reflected in her smile, relief spread in her crinkling eyes. She dangled precariously from the railings, slipping from her footing. A laugh escaped her before she said his name again. "I'm about to fall!"
"Tifa?" Cloud rushed over, grasping both her hands, Tifa's knuckles bony beneath his palms. "What are you doing here?"
"Saying goodbye. Properly, of course."
He frowned. "And you jumped on when this Chocobo was speeding up."
"How else was I supposed to get your attention, sleepyhead?"
"You could've gotten hurt."
"So? That's nothing compared to what soldiers have to go through." Her knuckles rolled under his palms. "I really wanted to see you. I don't know. I just had to. I had so much fun dancing with you last night, I wish I could've had that moment for longer." She shifted her gaze when he saw his eyebrows raise, his mouth withholding a smug smile.
"I had fun too, Tifa."
Wind lapped at the curtains flanking Cloud, releasing them from the rods. They fluttered around him. Their voices were getting swept up in the wind.
What was left for the two of them to say? Their feelings were locked in a birdcage, singing but not being heard by either one of them.
Tifa's smile kept wading on. Cherishing whatever time she had left with Cloud.
Cloud never knew how strong happiness could feel until now. A smile slowly formed on his lips.
The carriage began to shake as it went uphill, Tifa was about to slip from Cloud's grasp, gravity wanting to claim her back to the ground. Tifa laughed at their predicament. Time was surely closing in on them, preparing to embark them onto diverging paths.
"Tifa!"
"Cloud!"
Her hand fell from his, he attempted to reach for it but failed. When he tried to put his free hand on her remaining one, she shook her head, as if to say it was okay.
It was time.
This was their goodbye.
Cloud's grip loosened.
"Promise me! You'll come back!" Tifa yelled. "You'll come back to me–to Nibelheim!"
He was choking up, even though bliss shuddered his heart. "I will! I'll come back to you as a–as a soldier!"
As he let go, Tifa fell away, smiling so big like a sideways crescent moon. She laughed as she stumbled off onto the dirt road, landing on her bottom.
With her voice ringing in his ears, he smiled as wide as he could. This was how he wanted her to remember him, happy with so much to offer her and the rest of the world.
When she stood up, she waved at him, laughing as the pain in her body vanished, the corners of her eyes wet.
The rising sun had finally hung high in the sky, setting sights on a new day. Tifa became a silhouette in the distance, outlined by a shining glow as Cloud remained at the back of the Chocobo, making her smile an eternal fixture in his mind.
A new beginning was brought forth. Distant stars now separated their lives–the remainders of their youth. Eventually, the promise they made would connect the stars and have their lives intertwine once again.
A/N: Thank for reading! Feel free to share your feedback!