"What?" she gasped. She sat down, hard, on the bed. "But...It's there, I
can see it..."
Vincent sensed her rising hysterics and slapped her once across the face.
Tifa rocked back, but looked up at him, calmer. "Is that why you didn't go
with Cloud today? Do you feel responsible for Aeris?"
"Yes," she whispered.
He smiled at her, his expression full of understanding and pity. Tifa was
surprised again, she had doubted, in the past, that Vincent even had the
ability to smile. For a long time, they were both silent, then he spoke
again. "Every single one of us has a reason for being here, Tifa. What's
yours?"
Tifa shook her head, not comprehending. Vincent realized he hadn't made
himself clear and tried again. "Barret's saving the planet for his
daughter, Marlene. Yuffie wants to rebuild her hometown. Cid wants to beat
Shinra and send himself into space. What about you? Why did you bother to
come along?"
Tifa understood now. "You mean, what's my motivation? I'm a member of
AVALANCHE. I've been a member since I found Barret and bailed him out of
jail four years ago."
Vincent nodded patiently. "Yes, I know that. What I want to know is why
you're here, now. Why you stayed with AVALANCHE, instead of simply running
the most successful bar in Midgar."
Tifa considered the question. It was a fair question, she admitted. Even if
Vincent didn't really have a right to know her answer, it was something she
had never thought about before. She realized though, that she didn't really
need to think hard. "My father was killed by Sephiroth five years ago. I
promised myself I'd fight him, and Shinra, and all senseless killing, for
my father's sake."
"Would your father appreciate this particular form of revenge?"
She hesitated, shook her head. "Now that you mention it...no. He would have
wanted me to be happy."
"So--you're not happy?" inquired Vincent curiously.
"No....no...I guess not. I'm not happy at all. But........" She let the
sentence trail off, but Vincent understood--but Cloud was here for her. He
felt so much pity for this little girl who seemed so lost.
"Maybe you should try being happy for awhile, Tifa. It might be a pleasant
change."
"Are you happy?" Tifa shot out, but immediately she regretted it. She saw
that her words had inflicted pain on him, and she also saw that she had
been right--he was as unhappy as she. There was a difference in their
unhappiness, though--hers had a possibility of being changed, even erased.
His was buried in a grave in Nibelheim. "I'm sorry, Vincent, I'm
sorry...you're right. I should try to be happy." She picked up the small
bag that contained the little money she had and her change of clothes--all
she owned in the world. She walked towards the door. Vincent didn't try to
stop her, or even look surprised.
Tifa knelt by the small grave. She brushed away the snow that was gathering there, but ignored the flakes that were swirling around her. She traced the inscription-Joshua L. Lockheart III, and beneath it, Mariah Ureth Lockheart. She had avoided this graveyard since her father died; she thought it would be a sign of weakness to return to it. She knew better now.
The graveyard was located behind her house in Nibelheim. It was less of a graveyard, really, and more of a garden, especially during the summer. But it was early winter now, and the snow-covered trees and stones created a respectful hush all around her. She ran her hand over the smooth, cold head stone in front of her, letting it drop to her side, into the drifts of snow already gathering around it. She rose to her feet, and laid the flowers she had brought on the ground. As she placed them down, she noticed something- her hands were clean again. Rather than startling her, she felt a deep sense of freedom and justice, as if she had known what would happen all along, as if this was right. She turned to pick up her bag from the bench where she had left it, but someone already had.
Cloud was sitting on the bench, holding the little duffel bag on his lap. He smiled slightly sheepishly. "Hi."
She smiled back. "Hi."
He stood up and handed over her bag. "Vincent told me you'd be here. I thought maybe you were leaving us." He laughed, to show he didn't mean it, but a flicker on Tifa's face made him look hard at her. "You aren't leaving, are you? You're coming back to fight?"
She looked at him. "I didn't know till now, Cloud...but that's right. I can't come back now. I'm going to try being happy for awhile. I'm going to stay here until I figure out what I want."
Cloud looked completely lost. "I thought you were happy. Why this sudden change of heart?"
Tifa laughed lightly. "You don't know how wonderful your choice of words was, Cloud. I did have a change of heart, and because of it I can't stay on with AVALANCHE. Not right now, anyway, not until I figure things out on my own."
"But...why?" Cloud still looked blank.
Tifa smiled. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Because I don't love you," she whispered in his ear.
A/N: And so it ends-or does it? This fic is actually a revamp of my first ever fanfiction. I have tried to polish it up-fixed some areas that were glaringly bad, reorganized it, made some structural changes, but in the end I still feel it reads amateurishly and I can't say I really like it. However, I do like the sequel (which is not complete, but which is partially posted). It's called What Dreams May Come. Check it out. Thanks for reading. - Desdemona
Tifa knelt by the small grave. She brushed away the snow that was gathering there, but ignored the flakes that were swirling around her. She traced the inscription-Joshua L. Lockheart III, and beneath it, Mariah Ureth Lockheart. She had avoided this graveyard since her father died; she thought it would be a sign of weakness to return to it. She knew better now.
The graveyard was located behind her house in Nibelheim. It was less of a graveyard, really, and more of a garden, especially during the summer. But it was early winter now, and the snow-covered trees and stones created a respectful hush all around her. She ran her hand over the smooth, cold head stone in front of her, letting it drop to her side, into the drifts of snow already gathering around it. She rose to her feet, and laid the flowers she had brought on the ground. As she placed them down, she noticed something- her hands were clean again. Rather than startling her, she felt a deep sense of freedom and justice, as if she had known what would happen all along, as if this was right. She turned to pick up her bag from the bench where she had left it, but someone already had.
Cloud was sitting on the bench, holding the little duffel bag on his lap. He smiled slightly sheepishly. "Hi."
She smiled back. "Hi."
He stood up and handed over her bag. "Vincent told me you'd be here. I thought maybe you were leaving us." He laughed, to show he didn't mean it, but a flicker on Tifa's face made him look hard at her. "You aren't leaving, are you? You're coming back to fight?"
She looked at him. "I didn't know till now, Cloud...but that's right. I can't come back now. I'm going to try being happy for awhile. I'm going to stay here until I figure out what I want."
Cloud looked completely lost. "I thought you were happy. Why this sudden change of heart?"
Tifa laughed lightly. "You don't know how wonderful your choice of words was, Cloud. I did have a change of heart, and because of it I can't stay on with AVALANCHE. Not right now, anyway, not until I figure things out on my own."
"But...why?" Cloud still looked blank.
Tifa smiled. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Because I don't love you," she whispered in his ear.
A/N: And so it ends-or does it? This fic is actually a revamp of my first ever fanfiction. I have tried to polish it up-fixed some areas that were glaringly bad, reorganized it, made some structural changes, but in the end I still feel it reads amateurishly and I can't say I really like it. However, I do like the sequel (which is not complete, but which is partially posted). It's called What Dreams May Come. Check it out. Thanks for reading. - Desdemona
