A Fugue for Them
I. Exposition – "Something Promising"
by sydney sama
"This isn't the end," Cid Highwind said.
For once, there was no cigarette dangling from his lips. He was facing the comforting looking houses of Nibelheim. The Highwind floated mid-air above just above the entrance to the town, rusted gates and rusted truck still standing. Without moving his body, he turned his head slightly to look at the couple behind him.
"We'll be seeing each other around. You know where I'll be if you need me ..."
Tifa Lockheart and Cloud Strife stood side by side, looking at the weather-beaten man. He was the last of their group they were to say good-bye to. The others had been dropped off at various locations on the planet with teary good-byes and promises to stay in touch.
Tifa took slow steps toward Cid who was still mumbling.
"Hell, I'll be in Rocket Town for some time ... making modification to the Highwind, maybe I'll even -"
She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, forcing him to stop talking. If that normally dangling cigarette had been there, it surely would have dropped either on her shoulder or on the floor.
"We'll miss you Cid," she said, still holding onto him.
A few tears leaked out of her eyes.
Awkwardly, but genuinely, he slowly let his own arms embrace her small form in its entirety.
"Hey kid, I'll miss you too ..." he said after a moment.
Cloud scratched his head as the two hugged. Once they let go of each other, or rather, once she let go, Cid strode over to the other blond man and clapped him heartily on the back with a gloved hand.
"You take care, Spike," he said, "and take care of her, too."
"Ditto, old man. We'll be sure to send you over some tea to make life easier for Shera," Cloud said with a grin.
Cid laughed and watched the two descend down the rope ladder of his beloved airship. When the figures waved at him from ground level, he waved back and took to the metal stairs that led to the controls. As the massive ship roared away from the mountains and to the west, he sighed. It could only get better from here ...
†
"Well, we're back here again," Cloud said, his hands folded across his chest.
They both looked up at the town well, the only thing that seemed to have lasted from the tragedy five years ago, its scratches and chafed wood kept intact. It was the only real thing left.
"Yeah, back here ..." Tifa echoed.
'To where it all began,' she thought.
It only made sense to her to come back. Her house was still standing, or rather, rebuilt, and no one was occupying it – it was rightfully hers. The black-cloaked Sephiroth clones were gone, and it seemed as if new people had moved into the sleepy little town.
She had made it clear to Cloud that she intended on going back to their hometown, whether it was real or not. If she could make it real, then it was. It wasn't really a matter of it physically being different, anyway – it was more about coming to terms with that part of herself, the part that had lost so much. Now that their troubles with the planet were over with, it was time for her to focus on herself. Nibelheim was a big part of her; it was inevitable.
From the money they had earned throughout their travels, she wanted to convert the first floor of her home into a bar and restaurant, while the floor above it could once again become her home. Tifa also wanted to make this real with Cloud ... that was her implication. For once, he understood that much without her having to say so. Of course, he accompanied her. To tell the truth, Tifa was worried at first that he wouldn't want to come, that Nibelheim would bring upon him an onslaught of unwanted memories from Hojo's happy experiments, but he insisted on coming with her.
The two approached Tifa's house almost cautiously. Everything about it was familiar to her, down to the brown wood that framed the windows, and yet ... she still didn't feel completely at ease. She stared at the door for a few long minutes before setting her ungloved hand on the round knob. With her arm still outstretched, ready to open the door, she turned to Cloud with a worried look in her eyes.
"I hope I'm doing the right thing," she said.
Cloud returned her gaze with one full of understanding. "It's okay," he said.
Then, to her surprise, he reached out from behind her and placed his right hand on top of her own. Together, they opened the door.
†
All they had to do was break down a few walls, build some more, and add a counter for the bar. Then the first floor of Tifa's house would transform into a new bar and restaurant.
"Hey Cloud, stop working on the counter for a sec and help me tear down this wall," Tifa called out across the living room.
Her long hair was pulled back and held in a blue bandanna to avoid any annoyance a few stray hairs may have caused. Gone were her fighting clothes, she now dressed comfortably, casually. A pair of faded jean shorts, a dark tank, a pair of comfy sneakers. Cloud still stuck to his SOLDIER uniform, though only in fractions. Today he had kept his black sleeveless shirt and heavy boots, despite the heat. But he had replaced his stuffy, baggy pants with jeans. Tifa found it refreshing to be out of her battle clothes, and was curious as to why Cloud still clung to his. He looked more ... human in normal clothes.
Cloud couldn't make out what she had said to him through all the banging and crashing of her sledgehammer, so he stopped his repetitive sawing and yelled back at her.
"What?!"
"I said come help me take this wall down!"
He nodded and let the metal saw clatter to the ground next to the nearly finished counter. As he walked over to her, kicking up sawdust and chips along the way, he picked up another sledgehammer from the ground and stood beside her. She stopped her haphazard swinging and let the head of the hammer rest on the ground.
"Is this the last wall?"
She nodded and grinned. A first real smile in a long time. When she smiled like that, it seemed as if nothing could break it. It was a blessing to everyone around her whenever she allowed it to show.
With that, she swung her arms over her shoulders, the hammer level and ready, took aim and let it fly. The impact made a loud booming sound and splinters went flying everywhere. Plaster flew out in chunks and in clouds of white that settled in the wisps of their hair, the fabric of their clothes, and on their skin. Cloud took steady hold of his sledgehammer and followed suit.
Back and forth, back and forth, like railroad spikers they alternated their hits. It was rhythmic, pulsing. Their neighbors must have been wondering what they were up to.
At one point, the two began to laugh and make silly faces as they took their turns.
"Ow!" Tifa's hands immediately went up to her eyes.
"I think some dust got in my eyes ..."
She tried to rub them out, but Cloud's hands grabbed her wrist.
"Don't do that, you'll make it worse," he said, "here, let me see ..." With his fingers, he smoothed out a trail across her closed eyes, wiping off the thin coat of white plaster dust. He carefully pried her lids open. "Don't worry, I'm not going to poke you or anything."
She gritted her teeth and blinked rapidly as if it would prevent the blush on her cheeks from spreading.
"Let me try this trick my mom taught me," he said. Then, without warning, he blew a small gust of air into her right eye, then her left.
Tifa let out a squeal and immediately squeezed her eyes shut. "Open your eyes," he said, laughing a little.
Her burgundy eyes carefully slitted open, blinked rapidly, then opened widely.
"Hey, it worked," she said, "Thanks." Cloud smiled and nodded. Then the two resumed their incessant pounding of the wall. It was nearly knocked completely down.
†
The low light of the lamp by her bed created a soft glow that was just bright enough for her to read. A simple clear glass vase with the sloping shape of a female's body sat next to the lamp, a flower with petals the color of blush inside it. It was one of the numerous vases that decorated her pub downstairs – she kept one for herself. She had gotten a lot of reading done tonight, mainly because of her inability to fall asleep. If Cloud hadn't been sleeping in the room across from hers, she would have gone to play a bit on her piano. But she didn't want to wake him.
They had gotten a lot done that day – last minute furnishings and decorations were quickly wrapped up. It wasn't too hard considering she wanted everything to look simple. Hanging lamps made of clean glass above each table, a glass bottle vase of flowers in the center of each round table, black framed photographs hung from equal distances (no colorful gaudy things, she hated those) … the bar looked the best, set far apart from the dining tables, it had a clean counter and a convenient shelf-frame made of multiple cross-hatched boards from which she hung the differently shaped glasses. Behind the glass-topped counter was the "booze wall," a wall constructed of four shelves that held all the alcohol any man could drown himself in. The entire bar was Cloud's making – she loved it.
She couldn't sleep because her mind was swimming in a sea of unorganized thoughts, too much for a tired being to take. Under the soft glow by her side, she glanced at her hands, overturning them a few times each. They looked good without her gloves, clean and bare. She couldn't remember the last time they had looked that way. The skin wasn't as soft as it used to be, now a little scarred and roughened, but still smoother than most fighters. This came to her as a small surprise because she had expected her hands to look more battered and calloused after all she had gone through and done. Thank God that bit of softness was left in her, literally. Maybe it was a sign of something.
At that point, she decided that she was thinking too hard about things and before her thoughts became occupied by Cloud again, she turned off her lamp with a soft click. She tucked her long bare legs inside the thin, light sheets. Her heavy book was still hooked under her arm when the light went off, so she leaned over to the edge of her bed and pushed the book flat on the surface of the desk. A loud crash immediately followed.
She let out a quick scream and flipped the lamp switch on. It was the vase. The single pink flower had tumbled out and onto the polished wood floor, lying there like a broken bird. The vase had broken a little at the neck and a couple of small shards lay on the ground next to it.
'Stupid, clumsy …' she thought to herself as she pushed aside her white sheets and swung her legs around over the bed.
She was about to bend over and pick up the vase and its broken pieces when she heard the sound of fast footsteps approaching her room. The door swung open in a fast arc. It was Cloud, a worried expression on his face. His brows always knitted closely when he thought danger was close by. Bare chested and wearing only pajama pants, he stepped in, surveying the room and Tifa with a wary look.
"What happened?" His words came out in a rush.
The memories of the past few months came rushing back to her in one great wave when she saw him take his defensive, fighting stance. A blurring slideshow of their battles, injuries, pains, and triumphs came over her in one continuous stream. But it was brief, and she mentally shook her head free of the experience.
Tifa looked at him, then at the small mess in front of her. "Nothing, I – the vase just fell," she said.
Cloud looked immediately relieved, the tension leaving his face in a visible drain.
"Sorry … I was just surprised. Didn't mean to scream," she added, a touch of embarrassment in her voice. He nodded, and looked at her standing form.
She saw her eyes on him, and remembered she was only in a loosely buttoned up men's shirt and panties. The realization hit her in the form of a pink tinge on her cheeks. Shaking it off, she bent over and rapidly picked up the mess of glass and flora and all but tossed it onto her desk. When she was done, she brought her eyes to rest Cloud. He looked obviously awkward and as she predicted, he scratched his head, running his fingers through the blond mess.
"Um … well," he looked around, "Good night." He turned to walk out into the darkness.
"Wait," she called. He stopped mid-step and turned to look at her, a questioning look on his face.
She hesitated. "… I'm sorry … if you were sleeping and I woke you up."
He stood there in the door frame smiling slightly at her. "Oh, no problem. I wasn't sleeping anyway," he said, shrugging it off.
"Oh, okay." She was quiet for some time, trying to choose her words carefully before she let them loose.
"Um … I couldn't sleep either." Suddenly she grinned at him. "It's stupid, we should be tired from the work we did today."
"Yeah," he replied, "I just … had a lot on my mind, I guess."
Tifa chose this moment to sit down on her bed, trying to cover her bare legs by draping her arms over them. Her mind slowly chewed over what he had just said. Her eyebrows raised a little – cautiously. Carefully, slowly, deliberately she asked, "Like what?"
Cloud leaned against the frame of the door, arms folded, and he looked down. Shadows carefully outlined his sharp features, but she could still see his eyes. She could always see his eyes.
"A lot of things," he said. Then he was quiet for what seemed like forever. Should he even bring it up? Seemed like he was burdening her with the useless tight coil of his mind. What was the use of trying to untangle the mess in front of her? Well, he supposed it didn't hurt to try …
"What happened recently, most of all …" He let himself look at her, trying to read her expression. She looked thoughtful.
She nodded slowly from her place on the bed. "Same here." Her voice was soft as they ran over those words.
It took almost all of her courage at the time to do so, she was still afraid of prying, but she motioned for him to sit down on her bed. "I can't sleep at all. We could try … talking a little," she said carefully. It sounded like a question.
His back stiffened and straightened from his uncomfortable position against the wooden frame. He walked over to her bed and sat down at the end of it. She made room for him by facing him and bringing her legs closer to her body until she was nearly hugging them. He sat comfortably with his back against the wall. With her eyes still fixed on him, she rested her chin on her knees, her arms splayed near her naked ankles.
Her skin was the color of cream, Cloud thought off-handedly. It looked just as smooth, if not smoother.
Then he saw the expectant look in her eyes which drew his own away from her body. Now seemed like a good time to start.
"Everything's been a blur – just everything that happened," he began quietly. His glowing eyes looked down, away from her gaze. "It just seems like … I really didn't know anything before, and I'm just figuring it out now, you know?"
He looked to her, almost as if asking for direction.
"Tell me about it." She wanted to know.
And her voice sounded so reassuring to him at that moment.
"Remember what you said at the City of Ancients about Aeris?" He looked for any sign of recognition, and when he didn't find it, he continued. "About her looking to the future more than any of us, that she wasn't expecting to … die."
There was a heavy pause.
"I think you were wrong," he said it thoughtfully, "Before the Northern Crater collapsed, the Lifestream took me to him, to Sephiroth. And I stopped him from stopping Aeris' prayer. I saw the white materia, and after I killed him, or what was left of his psyche … it took me back … she brought me back to the real world."
Tifa looked serious, her eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Go on," she said.
"When I told you I could meet her in the Promised Land, I meant the Lifestream. That's the Promised Land, and I think I understand everything now … I'll see her when I die. When we die, everyone will be together – I think that's what she wanted. What her people wanted."
He looked to her once more, "Do you know what I mean?"
"Yes."
"She was always one step ahead," he continued, "Always. We were always following behind her, even though we didn't know it. Or if we did, we didn't know what she intended to do …" At this, his voice drifted off into silence. It seemed like a good time to stop.
Tifa was trailing the end of her thumb up and down one leg, lost in her thoughts, lost in what he had just told her. He watched her silently, watched the way her hair hung over the edges of her face, when it was usually tucked behind her ears.
"The Planet …" she finally spoke. "It's always trying to help us, isn't it?"
He cocked his head slightly, just barely frowning. "What do you mean?"
"It's almost funny. The Planet, the Lifestream … It's always trying to help us, no matter how much we hurt it. No matter how much we destroy it, try to manipulate it … Even if we're killing it, it always wants to … I don't know," she looked at him, and there was a depth to her eyes he couldn't even attempt to explain or describe, "take care of us."
He bit his lip. Still, he didn't fully understand … "How?"
"We drained it of its life, used its power for our own purposes. Sephiroth, he tried to wound it with Meteor … even through all of that, it seems to want to care for us. Even when Holy was working against us, Lifestream was sent to stop Meteor. And even little things, individual people … When we both fell in … it brought you back together, and it saved us."
He understood everything she was saying. "It's funny, isn't it?" He let out a brief, wry chuckle.
"Yeah …" He thought he saw a brief flicker of pain come across those eyes. Her head popped up at him, and there was a smile touching her lips. "And we're okay now. Everything's okay." She resisted the urge to wrap her arms around him in a tight hug. To place her palm on the bare skin directly above his heart. Instead she leaned back and let her head sink into the softness that was her pillow.
"Are you tired?" He asked her, readying himself to leave.
"Not at all," she frowned. Then quickly, her frown turned into a girlish smile, one that he remembered from those many years ago … "Tell me something, anything, that I can fall asleep to."
They shared a laugh at this request, he, ducking his head to hide the wide, toothy grin that had come across his face.
"How about a story for you, princess?" He was still smiling.
She laughed, and he couldn't help but notice how much like a little girl she looked like at the moment. This was something that rarely ever came out of her, and he thoroughly enjoyed watching her when it happened. Tonight was no exception.
Tifa nodded up and down with genuine excitement, tugging her blanket closer to her body, her fingers gripping the thin edges like a child.
"I haven't heard a story in a long time." A smile still played at her lips, and he couldn't resist, so he gave in to the whim.
He squinted thoughtfully. "Well, there was one stupid story my Mom told me when I was little …" he began, "I suppose it'll be boring enough to make you fall asleep."
She pushed her head farther into the softness of her pillow. "Carry on then."
"Okay." As he told the story, his eyes focused on the wall opposite him. "There was this poor woodcutter who lived in the forest. He lived alone and in a small cabin that was near a lake. What he wanted more than anything was to build a better house right on the shore of the lake, but it was hard. He was busy chopping wood to sell in town, but he promised himself someday he'd build that house." Cloud paused and glanced at the girl lying down beside him. He couldn't really tell whether she was starting to get sleepy or not. So he continued.
"He only owned one ax, and it was starting to get old. It was a little rusty, and the metal of the blade was all scratched up and a little chipped. The wooden handle was worn to hell and felt a little shaky, as if it'd snap at any given time. But he loved the ax, and didn't bother to buy a new one." He began to smooth out the blankets near her body. The sheets perfectly outlined her form. They seemed to be tracing her – he felt his eyes following the path the sheets made. Her hair was spread out messily over them and under them.
"One day, he had trouble cutting down a really heavy tree with a thick trunk right by the lake. Since the handle was really worn and smooth, his hands slipped and the ax flew into the lake and sunk to the bottom. He didn't know what to do. It's not like he could afford a new one, he was poor already as it was. He would've gone out to the lake, but he didn't know how to swim. So he started to cry at the banks out of despair, he even contemplated jumping in and letting himself drown ... but then he heard a voice call from beneath the water. It asked him why he was crying, and he said he had lost his beloved ax. The voice said that she was a fairy who lived at the bottom of the lake –"
At this Tifa, had to laugh a little. "A fairy?"
He nudged her playfully, "Oh come on, it's just a story. Fairies can live at the bottom of lakes." She smiled in response and went silent, implying that he should continue.
"Anyway, the fairy told him that she'd fetch his ax for him. He was grateful, and he waited until she surfaced. She didn't, but an ax flew up in the air, splashing out of the water. It hovered before him, and she asked from below if it was his. The ax in the air was made of solid bronze, and as much as he wanted to take it, he denied that it was his. So the bronze ax fell back into the water. Another one flew up and replaced it, it was made of pure silver. She asked again if it was his. He was really tempted to lie, but again, he said no, that the ax didn't belong to him. It disappeared under the water, and a third ax hovered in the air before him. This time, it was crafted of the most beautiful solid gold. He swallowed and stayed silent when she asked him the same question. After some time, he told the truth, and said it wasn't his."
Tifa's eyebrows arched. "Wow, he's an honest guy."
Cloud nodded. "Yeah, I know. But so after he said no, the ax still stayed there and the fairy spoke again. She told him that for being honest, she would let him keep the golden ax. But for some reason, the woodcutter couldn't bring himself to take the glittering ax."
"What? He didn't take it? Why not?"
"No. He still missed his old ax, and he didn't think he could accept the golden one, even though it would've made him happy, and he would've been able to build himself his dream house. The fairy got a little angry and told him he was foolish to not accept the kindness she was showing him. Then his old ax, with its now very rusty blade and soaked handle, came spitting up from the lake. He took it without a word, and went off to work."
He looked at Tifa, she was quiet and he thought he saw her eyes flutter in tiredness.
"Well, the week after, his old ax broke on its own. The blade was rusted beyond repair and the handle snapped in two different places while he was working. So not only did he lose the old ax, his hands were splintered and bleeding from it. As he walked into town, trying to sell his chopped firewood, he saw another woodcutter showing off a very familiar looking ax ... made of gold. By that time, the woodcutter had been longing for the golden ax. He even tried talking to the fairy in the lake again, even though she remained silent. So when he saw the other man with the golden ax, he just went nuts. He let loose at him, attacking him, trying to steal back the golden ax he thought belonged to him ..."
Tifa's eyes were closed now, and he could tell by the calm look on her face that she had drifted off to sleep. Still, just in case, he decided to finish his story. He lowered his voice.
"But the other woodcutter swung the golden ax to defend himself and cut the poor man down the chest. In the end, the sad woodcutter died by a wound that was made by the glittering golden ax ..."
She was totally and completely asleep. Just to make sure, he bent close to her face and whispered her name. One more time. There was no hint of awareness on her face. He cupped her cheek delicately in the palm of his hand, letting his thumb stroke under her eye. He froze. For a second, he thought, he thought he felt her lean slightly in to his touch. He withdrew his hand quickly as if burned and stepped over the bed, away from her. He clicked the switch to turn off the lamp and darkness engulfed the room. Then he left, closing the door behind him.
In the darkness, Tifa opened her eyes and gathered a handful of her sheets in a grip that made her knuckles pale.
†
"Arbitrary Heaven" was completed in about a week, and was ready to open about a week after that. Cloud asked Tifa why she didn't stick with the original name, "Seventh Heaven," but she replied that it was better fitting.
"Every 'heaven' is arbitrary," she had told him, "every man-made one, at least. People'll come to my bar to create their own, that's what it'll be there for ..."
He didn't really understand what she had meant by that. But he didn't question it.
Once all the supplies, food, and furniture had arrived and all the new waitresses and waiters had been hired, the bar-restaurant combination was ready to open to the people of Nibelheim. On the last night, they both ate in their completed pub (this is what Tifa called it, a combination of both) with items off the menu she had created herself. They ate their warm and satisfying food off a brand-new polished wood table in an atmosphere that reminded them both of a real home. It was something they both secretly craved, to different degrees – having a home again. They had come back to this cozy abode, the town that had been the start of their memories, the town that burned in their minds, and one that they hoped to rebuild in their hearts.
Afterwards, they went outside. Nearly all of the windows of the surrounding houses were dark. It was late. Tifa sat on the grass in front of her house, knees slightly bent, her arms wrapped around them. Her head was tipped upward toward her favorite stars, a light breeze playing with her hair. Cloud remained standing next to her in his usual stance, his arms folded across his chest. Though Tifa couldn't see it, a curious expression came over his face. He broke the silence by sitting down beside her. She didn't turn to him.
"Tifa …" he said softly.
Almost naturally, he gently uncoiled her hand and took it in his.
Her eyes widened.
"I just … I just want to thank you," he paused.
His thumb ran over her knuckles. "For everything. For staying with me, for helping me …"
Finally, he turned to face her and found her staring at him with large eyes.
He could hardly bring himself to continue. "Just for … just for making something promising out of this … Out of me."
She smiled at him – that ever so quiet smile that he found directly aimed at him whenever things started to make a turn for the worst.
Tifa looked back up at the tiny stars that softly glowed from between the swathes of gray clouds.
"You don't need to thank me," she said, "you've given me more than I could ever ask for."
Again, Cloud found himself a bit puzzled at her words. He didn't balk, instead, he contented himself with admiring the stars that looked so familiar that night. There was something comforting about their presence tonight.
notes: i'm back. i'm back, even though I swore I wouldn't write fanfiction ever again! Anyway, I can promise you that this project will be something that I will complete. I've put a lot of thought into this, and a few of you may be able to see my slightly revised viewpoints of the characters in the game … ffvii truly is a masterpiece, and tifa still remains as my favorite character. I do love aeris as well, I just think I love tifa more. But anyway, besides that, I'm going to try and take a step away from the pattern my previous fanfics concerning this couple … I've realized that they probably are not meant to be together in such an obvious way as I had portrayed them before. Let's just say that this fanfic will sort of show that – it won't be so easy. There will be hardship and pain. I'm trying to be realistic, though. Hopefully, this'll receive positive reactions from any final fantasy vii fan … if not, then I'll just go off to my room and cry. :)
If anyone cares to know, I'll be heading off for college soon, in a state far, far away from my home in California. New Hampshire … yes. I do plan on restarting my own website with my own domain where I'll be storing my various works and interests, not just fanfiction. I'll let you know when it's up.
As for The Trio … it is on hold indefinitely. The reason being that, like I mentioned earlier, my views have changed just a bit. The Trio's ending was just too easy, and the relationships among the characters were far too simplistic for my taste. I look back on it with a bit of fondness for the concept, but with a bit of disgust at how I could portray them without much … complexity. Ugh. So unless there are hordes of readers literally filling my mailbox until it floods, which I HIGHLY doubt, there will be no more of it. Again, my apologies to anyone who actually took the time to read it, I feel terribly guilty, almost as if I had led you on. I may, and a huge emphasis on 'may,' revise it and repost it. But again, MAY usually means 'probably not,' especially since I'll most likely be dying from homework and projects that are non-ffvii related during my first year in college.
On a completely self-indulgent note, I suggest anyone reading this to go watch some freaking Kimagure Orange Road – the best anime series EVER. Dammit. It is sorely underappreciated just because it came out in 1987. Best damn love/relationship series done – twenty billion times better than Love Hina, which I believe, is much too praised and hyped especially since it is similar to KOR and took many concepts and episodic scenarios directly from it. Blah. Go download it. Now. Or buy it.
And to end on an appropriate note, this is a relatively happy chapter (part?). Yes, they both deserve this happiness, but like I said, reality will hit them both. Their problems will surface, and CHAOS WILL ENSUE! Just kidding. But don't expect the following two parts to be as happy. This is also the shortest part of my project. The titles of the story and different parts won't make much sense to most of the readers, except for the most studious of music fans, but I'll explain them later. I hope you enjoyed, and yes, even though I ought to be working on creative/original works that will actually help my English major, it is good to be back. Sorry for being so long-winded. :)
-sydney sama (just call me sydney or syd, please)
e-mail: sybersquid@aol.com
aim: bloodjetpoetry
ps: I hate my penname "sydney sama." I have changed a lot and have gone through a lot and I have grown a lot since my last serious bit of fanfiction, and one thing I noticed is how retarded 'sydney sama' really is. If it were up to me, I'd change it, but since it's sort of stuck, so I have no choice. Damn me.
pps: as for the story cloud told tifa, i remember hearing or reading it when i was little ... but i took the liberty of changing it a bit. in the original one, i don't know if it was a fairy, but the woodcutter keeps all three axes, and another bad woodcutter sees him and asks him about it. the bad woodcutter then throws his ax into the lake, and then lies to the fairy/whatever that all three of the axes are his. the fairy gets pissed off at him for lying, and he gets nothing in the end.