Tifa: Stars in the Wind
Tifa leaned on the Highwind's deck rails and looked out over the starlit ocean. They had just flown through a storm, and the cool wind blowing over the deck still smelled of rain and lightning. The deck rails were cold and wet, the deck a bit slick; she braced herself carefully against the airship's gentle pitch and roll. Cid's voice carried up from belowdecks; he was probably yelling at Yuffie again for retching all over his ship. It was quieter up here, even Cid's bellowing sounding further away than it really should, half-drowned out by the wind of the Highwind's flight. She heard footsteps on the metal stairs and turned to see Cait Sith bound out onto the deck, skid a foot or so, and bound across toward her.
Shinra don't know where Cloud is either, Cait said, stopping a safe distance away from her. Safe, in this case, meaning he could dodge before she threw him overboard. So he's probably as safe as he's gonna get.
Why are you here, Cait? She stared at the stuffed creature as if it could tell her what kind of a man ran it. Who would have come up with using a fortune-telling toy as a spy? He'd stolen the keystone and kidnapped Marlene and Elmyra, and he'd helped them out at the Temple, although, as it turned out, getting the Black Materia had been a bad idea. But Cloud had been right too, hadn't he? Tifa shook her head, not wanting to think about Cloud or that she didn't know what to do without him stomping around being himself. Cid stomped around enough for several people. Right. She'd think about that .
The cat shrugged and startled her out of her confused thoughts. Thought you'd wanna know, you was so worried about him. His voice was slurred and shaking, a little louder than it needed to be, and he gestured broadly at her.
She shook her head and folded her arms across her chest, wincing at an unexpected flash of pain across her belly. Maybe she'd hurt herself climbing out of Scarlett's little torture cell. That's not what I meant, Cait.
There was a silence that stretched for a few minutes. Oh. That. The cat hopped off the moogle's head; the moogle rubbed its head and stretched, then lumbered off to stand in the shelter of the deckhouse. Tifa shook her head at the cat's antics as it stretched and cleaned itself for all the world like a real cat. Y'ever figure how many people y'killed? I did. When 'm not chasin' aroun' after you, m tryin' to get orphans sheltered an' hospitals paid so's they can go on tryin' to fix ev'body y'hurt. I gotta splain why dead Shinra took out two whole sectors - slum an' plate - to get y'all.
You've made your point. Tifa turned and looked back out over the water, leaning on the rail. Two reactors and an entire sector. Not bad for a half-dozen amateurs, she thought bitterly, and suddenly missed Wedge and Biggs and Jessie, would have given everything to have them back arguing and joking and generally being underfoot. We know.
Cait was silent for a few minutes. No. No, y'don't know. Don't wanna know, do y'? Barrett don't care bout nothin' but the kid, you don't care bout nuthin' but Cloud, Cid's got his ship and all the people y'killed and ev'body they left behind can go to hell.
You're forgetting Vincent, Nanaki and Yuffie. And yourself. Might as well make a thorough job of it. The expanses of starlit water did nothing now to improve Tifa's rapidly sinking mood, which had already been low; the horrible grinding scream of the plate crashing echoed in her mind and she would dream about it if she managed to sleep. The cat flopped over gracelessly when trying to wash its tail, and the uncoordinated, graceless movements told her what set off such an uncharacteristic outbreak. And you're drunk.
An' m drunk, Cait agreed. An' Vincent wallows in guilt an' self-pity, an' Nanaki' an' Yuffie's just kids on an adventure. An m a sporky cat an m the only one who remembers ev'thing y'all hurt.
The cat suddenly flopped over, and Tifa heard it snore. Passed out, did you? I could just throw you overboard. You'd never know until it was too late. She finally just picked up the cat's body, warm and soft and surprisingly heavy, and dropped it on the moogle. The moogle radiated warmth, welcome against the growing chill, its fur surprisingly soft. Without you, we don't have any idea where Marlene is, if she's all right ...
Tifa leaned back against the moogle and drew her knees to her chest against the wind, and turned to lay her cheek on the moogle's soft fur. She could still hear Cait snoring. Maybe he was right ... maybe they were all selfish, doing what they wanted in the name of the Planet. She wondered what the Planet thought ... did it think? Did all the souls in the Lifestream add up to a Planet's soul? Aeris might have known, or known how to ask, and now Tifa could never ask her anything again.
She felt the tears start, spilling down her cheeks onto the moogle's fur. So many things she'd wanted to ask Aeris, so much they could have said to each other, and now she never could. Sector 7, Jessie, Biggs, Wedge, Aeris, Cloud ... the losses just piled one on another on another on another and Tifa was sobbing outright, face buried in the moogle's fur and arms wrapped tightly around it. I want it all back! Father and Nibelheim and Cloud and Aeris and Sector 7 and Jessie and Wedge and Biggs, I want them all back! She pounded her fists into the moogle's back, vaguely surprised how solid it was. I wanna wake up and ... and it was all just some horrible neverending nightmare and it never will be ... it's always gonna be real ...
Someone touched her shoulder and she started, spinning around to see Vincent. Oh! I ... she stopped, embarrassed and still weeping. I ...
He shook his head and knelt down next to her, claw glittering in the starlight. It is all right. I realized I had not seen you or Cait in a while.
She nodded, dragging her hand over her eyes and forcing herself to stop crying. I was ... trying not to think, so I came up here ... She looked at the cat, which was still emitting steady snores. I guess whoever runs Cait got drunk, and ... had a lot to say. About everything ...
Vincent awkwardly put the arm with the claw around her shoulders; it was warmer than she'd expected, smooth warm metal burnished almost as soft as skin. She tensed, startled, then relaxed, and leaned into him. I can imagine, he said, shifting so that his cloak covered her from the wind.
...He was right. We are doing what we want without thinking about the cost, she said, half-hidden against his shoulder. I wonder how many people ...
Vincent said, hugging her with his other arm, and pulling her close against him. Even if we are doing things for selfish reasons, good can still come of it. And someone must stop Sephiroth.
She sighed. He smelled of cloves and cinnamon, his clothing sleek and smooth like silk, and she was suddenly exhausted. Sephiroth ... he took everything from me once, and he's going to again ... She breathed in the sharp spicy scent of him, cloves and cinnamon tanged with gunmetal, and, drowsy enough not to think about what she was saying, asked, Vincent? Do you ... ever miss Shinra? Miss being a Turk?
He bowed his head, long black hair brushing over her face, and was silent, silent long enough that she almost began to apologize for asking. Shinra? No ... I do not miss Shinra. It was ... I was very young when I started, barely older than Yuffie, and I ... did not know better. Shinra was even then becoming what it is now. He shook his head, then flicked his hair back over his shoulder and out of her face. There are times I miss my fellow Turks. Our first loyalty was to each other, not to Shinra ... I do not know if that has changed. But any Turk I knew is long since dead. Turks do not live long.
Tifa yawned. Vincent's body was surprisingly cool, or maybe the moogle's had been hotter than she realized. She shivered and he pulled his cape closer aroumd her. You don't know any of the ones we've fought?
He shook his head, and his spice-scented hair flowed over her face again. Tseng reminds me of ... someone I knew once, long ago, he said, shifting her against his body. Reno ... I knew someone very like him, and Rude .... Rude reminds me of the Turks' leader when I began. He paused, and said softly, Elena ... reminds of myself.
Elena does? Tifa mumured. You reminded me of Tseng when I met you, Vincent. Something about the way you spoke, the way you moved ... Her eyes closed. Vincent, about to say something, felt her breathing slow into sleep, and stopped before he woke her. He gathered her gently in his arms and carried her down to the bunk room. He put her down gently on a bunk and drew a blanket over her. Tifa dreamed about the plate crashing, and the screams of the dying drowned in Sephiroth's laughter.