"I don't understand anymore, Cloud," Tifa said, sounding rather casual considering the situation they were in.
Cloud looked at her and had a mental flash of her in a glittering red dress, her hair up with a few locks curling down. A cigarette held delicately between two fingers, her red-gloved hand motioning up in question. She was a diva, a goddess. He blinked and shook his head at himself. Tifa didn't smoke.
"What don't you understand anymore?" he asked softly. Maybe one person here could still be saved.
"What's happening to us? Where are we? Are we dead? Are we waiting? Is this Purgatory? Heaven, hell?"
He nearly snorted, and replied that if this was hell, he bloody well liked it. He caught himself in time.
Tifa shrugged. She sounded hesitant now. "Why are we here?"
"What was your very last memory before this, before you were here?" he asked her.
"Falling.. into bright glowing water, that was exposed when the ground burst open."
"Bright, glowing, blue-greenish water?" he offered, eyebrows raised.
"..Yes."
"Lifestream." he told her, without another thought. Like an insect drawn to a light, his eyes were drawn to her face, half-hidden as it was behind her shoulder.
Her head snapped up to him when he said it. "We're at heaven's door, then."
"I suppose you could put it that way. Don't know if we're dead, though."
Either way, we're together, he thought, and hated himself for it.
"So, we're waiting." Tifa concluded. There was an edge in her voice, but he couldn't figure out what it was.
"I don't like this. Having no control in the matter, not being sure whether I am alive, or I just think I am, afraid of what might happen next.. what?" She asked Cloud as she saw his brow furrow.
"That sounds exactly like me, from about five years ago up until five months ago."
She blinked at him. "What-"
"After the Nibelheim fire. Sephiroth was missing, the townspeople were dead, you, Zack and I were fatally wounded. Zangan took you away and saved you. Hojo took Zack, and me, and ..saved.. us. He killed us off mentally, and eventually succeeded, partly because of our cellular material, in cloning the great general Sephiroth." Cloud paused because of the expression on Tifa's face.
"What?"
"I-I don't.." she tried in an unsteady voice.
"I can remember bits of it. Can you imagine? Almost five years, and it's a thrill if I can remember more than five coherent minutes worth."
"I'm so sorry, Cloud.." she whispered, wiping away a single tear as it trailed down her cheek.
"Don't be." he replied. "I'm glad Zangan got you out of there. I'm afraid you wouldn't have survived some of the tests we went through."
She closed her eyes. "But.." but Cloud.. you weren't..
"Hojo was amazing, you know. That man so easily did inhuman things to people -kids. He himself wasn't human anymore. I'm afraid I learned a lot from him."
"What do you mean? You're trying to say you were ever like Hojo? Because you -"
"No. not that way. I would never be able to do those kinds of things to people. I just mean that, whenever I was conscious, I was fascinated by his coldness, his coolness. I believed nothing would ever hurt him because he never let it. And I decided to be like that as well."
"Cloud.."
"Tifa -it doesn't matter." Nothing does.
"How can you say that! Of course it does!"
"My life is over, Tifa. I'm not going back."
"You're only twenty-one years old, for God's sake. How.." she stopped mid-sentence and started to cry, out of sheer exhaustion and inability to handle the situation at hand.
Cloud observed her expressionlessly. It was lovely, and upsetting, to see her cry. Like poetry. She didn't sob or cry out or moan or make any sound whatsoever. Her breathing became shallow and uneven and her frame shook. Tears drew shadows and glistening streaks down her face. Her arms were wrapped around her middle. Her hands were white as they clutched her sides.
On an impulse, Cloud reached out and took her hand.
"You're cold." he remarked softly, and took her hand more firmly. "Where are your gloves?"
"I.. took them off when I found you."
".. Why did you want to stay with me?"
"Because."
Because I love you? Because you are the singlemost important thing in my life to me? The most important in the world?
'Because' was enough. For now at least. He didn't release her hand. She didn't mind.
*
Tifa and Cloud sat across from eachother, knees touching where they had their legs crossed beneath them.
"So.. why are you dressed like that anyways?" There. He had asked it.
Tifa blinked at him in surprise. Then looked down and slowly turned beet red. "I -I.. oh, because.. it's terrible.. well.. it's basically because, this way, I, um, attract more customers to the bar." she blurted the last bit and glanced up at him rather embarrassedly.
Cloud started to laugh.
"It's not funny!" she exclaimed, trying very hard not to laugh herself.
"Yes, it is, it's incredibly funny -I can just see all those guys crowding to get in there, just because.." he didn't finish his sentence because he was laughing too hard.
"Shut up! Stop it!" she cried, grinning.
He wiped his eyes and forced himself to stop. "Okay.. why are you still dressed like that now?"
"Doh. I haven't been back since before I posed as a prostitute to get into Wall Market -these were my spare clothes." she said, shaking her head and smiling at him. The smile faded. "Besides." she continued, softer now. "Heaven was destroyed when the Plate fell, remember?"
Cloud nodded quietly, suddenly serious. "Where ever you go, Tifa, your home is taken away from you."
"Kinda like you, huh?"
He only looked at her, and his lovely blue eyes engulfed her. She watched him breathlessly. Those eyes could hold so much emotion, even if their expression was one of cold or anger. They both remained silent for a very long time.
"So.. you really don't feel uncomfortable, wearing those clothes?"
Tifa hit him. "Shut up!"
"Oww." he exaggerated, dramatically grabbing his shoulder.
"Big baby." she scoffed.
"Short baby." he countered.
"I am so not short!" she immediately protested, and jumped up to prove her point.
He stood up as well, and looked down at her.
She straightened. "See, I come out just a bit above your shoulder!"
"Ergo, you're short."
"No, I'm not, you're just really tall." She shook her fist at him.
"Face your defeat, Tiff. Your new nickname is 'Human Being who Lacks in Height.'"
Her mouth opened but she was left wordless at the smirk on his face. She didn't say anything for a while. Cloud noticed her expression change.
"The way I'm dressed bothers you, doesn't it?" she inquired quietly.
His eyes met hers, then trailed down her figure and lingered there for a more than a moment. "I don't think that's how I'd put it.."
She snickered. "Ecchi."
He grinned. "I'm not bothered by the way you're dressed, Tifa, I just can't help thinking that this, for instance, is why you always have cold hands."
He emphasized this by taking one of her hands, which, indeed, was cold.
"Thank you." Tifa said. "Because yes, it is why my hands are cold. And it does make me uncomfortable. It's dreadful, fighting with a short, tight skirt. Every time I kick, I have to hope no one is looking up the damned thing."
Cloud snorted, refraining from replying that he didn't mind that too much. He looked down, and his attention was caught by the hand in his. Soft and small and slender, Tifa's hand held the same pale, nearly translucent skin quality the rest of her body did. Her nails were cut short, but they were smooth and clean.
He realised she was staring at him. Quickly, he pressed his palm against hers.
"Look, even your hands are short." he joked. She laughed as she saw how the tops of his fingers could easily curl over hers.
"Thanks." she said, looking up at him, "For reassuring me about.. me. Sometimes I feel like a prostitute anyways."
"You're not, and that's what's important." he told her. And after a pause, "But you know, when you were a prostitute, you -"
"-what?" she nearly snapped.
"Wall Market," he clarified quickly, the innocent expression on his face daring her to hit him.
"Oh.. Wall Market."
"That dress you were wearing looked really good."
"That shiny red thing? With the long gloves?"
"Yeah. The red one." Jesus, it's an actual dress she'd worn before..I really am pathetic, imagining her and fantasizing about her with every different outfit I see her in. he thought to himself.
"yeah, that dress was cool. I'd just hate to imagine what it would be like if I had been wearing that, instead of this.. imagine battling Sephiroth in this.."
"Having to fight Sephiroth wearing that dress? More like protect yourself from him and his wedding proposals."
"Sephiroth marry me? Now there's a disturbing thought."
"What about the relationship with your Mother-in-law?" Cloud grimaced.
"Oh, I'm sure we could learn to put up with each other.." Tifa burst out laughing. "We're terrible. We shouldn't be joking about stuff like that.."
"There isn't really anything we can do about it at the moment, anyways."
"I know.."
They were both silent for a bit.
"Cloud," Tifa urged, all of the sudden, "please.. come back with me, help me find our way out of here and return to everyone? Promise you'll stay with me, and help me!"
The radiance in his eyes clouded over almost immediately. His jaw set. "I'm not going back, Tifa." His voice chilled her. "I can't go back after all I've misdone."
They had been holding hands the whole time. They both realised it and simultaneously pulled away. She turned her back to him and started to run into the dark. Hide her frustration, hide her tears, hide herself.
"Tifa!?" he yelled after her. What..?
"Even if you don't come with me, I'm going to find the end of this world!" she shouted back, and never slowed.
Cloud watched her go. As always, he was filled with guilt and sorrow towards her. "Come back safe." he murmured and sat down, and began to comtemplate what his life had summed up to so far. He always ended up with the same answer.
Pain.
*
Brief A/N: Yes, I know Tifa's hooker lady dress was originally blue and Aeris' was red, but honestly, red looks better on Tifa.