Chapter 8: Farewell.

A few days later...

Tifa impatiently dabbed her eyes with the back of her hand as she boarded the mid-day train.

/I'm doing the right thing, so... why can't I stop crying?

Her hand clutched reflexively the small bag she'd taken with her. She'd brought some materia and weapons to help Cloud, but the rest of the contents came from Zack's apartment. Her toothbrush, a packet of feminine products, and various items she'd left there.

She wouldn't be coming back there again.

Then why was the key to his apartment still cutting its imprint into her left palm?

She'd written a note, and his key was to go on top of the note. But in the end, she couldn't leave it. Not yet...

Next stop...' the conductor called out an unfamiliar stop, snapping her out of her rumination.

"Excuse me," she asked the man next to her, "isn't this the train to Midgar?"

"No, miss, this is the Junon train."

"Oh... thank you," she mumbled.

She'd boarded the wrong train. She'd run straight from Zack's apartment with barely a minute to spare, and distraught and confused, she'd boarded the wrong train.

She hadn't done anything right.

Not just today, probably not for a few months...

She edged towards the door, and disembarked. As she sat waiting for the next Midgar train, her mind mercilessly re-hashed the events of the last few days. And the words that were written in her heart. Because she'd tried to say them so many times, but Zack would never listen...

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It's not what you think.

I'm not going to chase him. I'm just going to make sure he's all right.

I know you're scared. I'm scared too. Because I was so in love with him, and being with him again might... stir up feelings I thought I'd buried.

But I'm not going to forget you.

I won't be gone long. And you're unforgettable, anyway. How could I forget the way you listened to my stories about Cloud? The way you held me when I cried, even though you were just waiting for a chance to grope. The ridiculous stories you told me...

I know I'm hurting you by leaving.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

But does it have to hurt you _this_ much? Can't you have just a little faith in me?

I wish I could make you see how much I care about you. That I'm only going because I'm worried about him.

I care about you, so much. But just the fact that I'm leaving... is all the proof you need that I love him more, right?

Is that why you won't talk to me? You haven't talked to me since you came back from meeting Cloud that day.

I've tried to talk to you. Last week. Yesterday. Earlier today.

You won't let me explain. Not even when I sat out on your front steps last night. I stayed there for hours... knocking every few minutes, hoping you'd talk to me. You threw me your coat, but you wouldn't let me come in.

Why didn't you let me come in? Your light was on, I saw you watching me through the window; you were at the window until I finally gave up.

I... I thought you were hurting. I wanted to hold you so badly. But you wouldn't let me, so I just sat there and cried.

This morning was my last chance to see you. Maybe I could make you see... But you weren't home.

And I'm out of time. I'm supposed to be on the train in 5 minutes.

Everything's in my note. The instructions for re-heating your roast. The stew's in the crock pot. Your favorite chips and salsa are in the cabinet, along with some canned soups. And there are snacks at the bar, too, just in case you want to come by and trash things up a little.

I've tried to put your clothes back where I found them -- please don't mind that I washed them.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude in your home. You didn't even want me here last night. But I've snuck in. I've cooked food you won't eat, I've washed clothes you've let grow mildew... just because there's nothing else I can do for you. Not in the few minutes I have left.

Will we have more time, when I come back? Can you ever forgive me?

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Zack gawked at the neatly folded piles of laundry. At the labels on freshly prepared foods that just didn't belong in his fridge, with its musty cold cuts and moldy bread. The labels written in her unmistakable handwriting.

She was gone. So why the hell did she do this?

Did she have to leave her footprints all over his place? Wasn't it enough that she'd left her mark in his heart?

He'd come here, hoping it wouldn't blaringly remind him of how gutted he felt inside. He was a hollow bell. Jarring metal outside, empty inside. Empty except for a core that cried to be heard.


One moment, he was staring blankly at the neatly folded piles. The next, he'd strewn clothes all over the living room with a crazed howl.

Yeah, that's much better. This was his sanctuary. The last place he'd allow Tifa to plant even the tiniest seed of her caring.

She was gone. His foolish brown-eyed girl.

He sank to his knees, and found himself slumped against the tacky green shirt that had fallen on his couch. The one she always teased him about. The one she ruined with the orange that day, the day he tried to tell her he loved her. He wanted to say he loved her, but it was too soon, so he said he wanted to be with her instead.

Heedless of the tightness in his chest, he closed his eyes against it, letting the threads tickle his eyelashes, the downy texture stroke his cheek.

The closest he'd ever come to her caress, now.

He laughed, even as something hot stung his eyes.

It's too fuckin' cruel.

He'd finally started to make her happy. It'd taken so much out of him to hold her up--even though he'd appeared casual about it. Seeing her suffer hurt like nothing he'd ever felt before. When Cloud left her, he'd hung around, refused to let her shutter herself in. He'd come by, bring little things; chat her up, tell her tall tales. Soak up her warmth like a sponge.

Now he couldn't make do without it. How'd that happen? How could it happen? To him?

Maybe it happened... gradually. So slowly that he hardly realized when he'd crossed over the line. When did he start hanging around more out of wanting than concern? When did he start to quicken his step as he rounded the corner, anticipating the way she would run to his embrace? When did a dim bar stop reeking of despair and desolation?

When did he start to look upon her unprotected heart as his own? His to care for and watch over?

And what a swell job I've done at that...

She wasn't the first woman who'd left him. But it'd never felt like this. Why was it different this time? Was it because she was a friend too? Or was it because he'd done something unbelievably stupid... like... fall in love? Fall in love with a girl who was hung up on _Cloud_ of all people...

She'd left to take care of Cloud, because Cloud needed her.

What about my needs, Tifa? I need you too. Goddamn it, I need you, and I'm a hell of a lot more deserving than him. How could you leave me? Do you love him that much, or...do I mean nothing to you?

I know you love him. Hell, I always knew. But I thought you could love me too--you did, I know you did. At least...I thought you did--even though you never told me.

Damn it, Tifa, it's not fair!

He welcomed the pain that throbbed from his fists when they rammed into the wall. But the distraction ended too soon.

No, it's not fair. But who said life was fair? Something, a laugh, a snort, rang forth, and he struggled back to his feet.

No, life wasn't fair. Good people get screwed. Only...a lucky few...get a second chance. Somehow he'd gotten a second chance.

And he wouldn't just give up. She loved him. He knew it. He didn't just imagine the happiness of her smile, the warmth of her embrace, the sincerity of her touch. The way she trusted him with every secret, every hurt.

It ain't over, Tifa. Hell no. Not as long as I still remember...the lines of your face. The calluses of your hands. The tangle of your hair. The taste of your lips.